Back when I was in Menlo Park, I jogged on this trail few times a week. Out the gate, round the marsh land, you are on this 10-foot wide paved path. One side, cars linger on the speed from the last downhill stretch of Dumbarton bridge. They zoom by hurrying to somewhere.
The other side is a different world. The salt pond is eerie. It is white like a different planet and life-lessly still. Surrounding it are marsh full of water fouls: ducks, pelicans, egrets, sandpipers, seagulls, etc. Some squarrels, or so I think, are busy going in and out of their burrows. Others stand motionlessly, except of heads following you slowly, for their sun bath.
I always make a dramatic slap on the sign before I take up the return trip. At that point, if you are driving, you will turn left onto Marsh Road and get onto Highway 101, heading San Francisco.
Sun campus is the homing beacon. The view is spetacular at times. But I usually get into the “zone” near Chrysler Drive. Muscles are tired, breaths are heavy, sweat gets into eyes, and mind turns blank. I changed into a single-minded machine with the goal of reaching back the gym. The world is the metronomic beats of shoes pounding the road. Nothing else exists.
I always liked San Francisco Bay Area. Before I moved to Beijing, I did not appreciate it as I should.