FRIDAY 9:00am

It was hard to tell whether Sauselito was a town modeled after a postcard or whether postcards were modeled after Sauselito. The town lay scattered picturesquely (ßwow I can’t believe I got that word spelled right on the first try) amongst the hills with a sparkling smooth bay as its doormat. Homes hung from the trees and little specialty shops lined the main street all freshly scented with the aroma of morning brewed coffee and warmly ovened doughnuts.

My toes started to sting and I was beginning to wonder if I had hidden a lead anchor in my pack as it was tugging harder and harder at my shoulders. I found a small park near a small marina and rested for a while on a small bench, watching little birds peck at the ground. Were any of them sparrows? It was hard to tell. After a couple sips of water I massaged my feet out of their achy sleep and continued down the bike path.

Soon the trail widened and became more populated with bikers and middle aged joggers carving their ideal figures. The surrounding area became wet and marshy as if the soil had sponged up some of the bay. I could feel Tim getting closer and closer with every single step. His nest lay somewhere across the mountains ahead. An overpowering feeling of restlessness came over my entire body. I had to hurry. Yes, I had to get there as soon as possible.