Chapter I
December 14, 2007
Sunlight dappled the waters of the bay far below, gilding the lazy swells as they rolled towards the rocky base of the promontory ahead. The crisp morning air had warmed considerably under the clear blue sky making for a magnificent, if brisk, morning when a breeze washed by. Alain Ridley stood next to his bike on the side of Conzelman Road, enjoying the view while taking a long drink from his water bottle. After snapping it back into its clip on the bike, he walked the Cannondale to the empty park bench a few feet away and sat with a deep exhale. As he’d come to expect, the cliff-side view of San Francisco was beautiful. This was one of his favorite spots to sit and take in the world around him, a far cry from New York.
Manhattan had provided him with its own breathtaking views, but they tended to involve mostly impersonal glass, concrete and steel. Not to mention a lot of grit. Here, Ridley was only a bike ride away from sunsets over the Pacific, the rolling hills and headlands of Marin or the isolation of remote rocky beaches. His world had certainly changed. It was as radical a shift from his life on the east coast as he could get.
At least outwardly. Inwardly he still fought, and usually lost, his daily battles for peace, an attempt to allay the pain that had driven him here more than four years ago after losing what had been most precious to him. Reseeding himself here at the insistence of his closest friend, his brother in spirit if not blood, he’d succeeded, at least professionally, to build a new life for himself.
Mentally and emotionally were another matter. He faced those demons on a day to day basis and quite often lost. Thankfully, today he was coming out on top. At least so far.
Refusing to dwell on it and risk his victory, he turned his eyes southward.