I rode the motorbike slowly out of San Francisco following Larry's big black Escalade in heavy traffic. The slowness afforded me a last contemplative look at the sunny city that had been my home for nearly two years. My head was spinning with the goodbyes of good friends.
We reached the Bay Bridge and picked up speed. I followed the black car's GPS-guided moves to Oakland, to an artist studio in the "hood" where a woman named Szonic was waiting. Kids passed on bicycles, the wheels decorated with aluminum foil. Szonic came out from a narrow unmarked doorway, offered a cold beer, and motioned to bring the motorcycle inside. The bike's new owner, Groovy Daryl, was coming in two weeks to ride it back across the continent to his home in Georgia.
This is Szonic's studio in Oakland.
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