After we completed the marathon, Miles and I enjoyed a little getaway to San Francisco. Our excuse was that Miles had a work seminar there for the week following the race. We just had to pay for my airfare since the room was paid for. Miles flew out on Sunday and I followed on Tuesday. We were really excited for a romantic escape without the kids.

I left the small St. George airport on Tuesday morning. I didn’t check any baggage because I didn’t want to risk losing my baggage or pay the fee. But because the commuter plane was so small, I had to gate check my bag. Without any instruction except to “pick it up when I get there,” the abrupt baggage guy threw a pink tag on my bag and took it away.

I had a quick connection in SLC and I hurried to my next gate. Then I started to process the fact that there was no way my bag could follow me to San Francisco and that I must have needed to pick it up plane side. I got to my next gate and had them call down to see if they had my bag sitting there. But it wasn’t and it was likely they sent it to baggage claim. I ran through the airport to baggage claim on my very tired and sore legs. They didn’t have my bag at baggage claim either. I was advised to just get on my flight and my bag would follow in 2-24 hours. So I went back through security and barely caught my flight. At this point I was freaking out a little. My bag had everything in it; contacts, underwear, makeup, hair product, clothes, coat, glasses. Everything. Except my wedding ring that I put back on that morning after taking it off for the marathon and my camera that I had with me.

I got to San Francisco and made a claim about my missing bag. They told me to keep my receipts for the essential things I couldn’t go without.

So my bag was lost. Great. And I had no idea if or when it would ever show up.

Well it turned out that I never got my bag while in San Francisco. I wore the same clothes for 4 days. I bought a coat at Ross, two hats from H&M, and some contact solution from Walgreens, praying that my daily pair of contacts would hold out.

I made it a point to not let the lost bag completely ruin my trip. I had a great time! In fact I cried when we had to go home. I enjoyed every minute I had alone shopping, riding the tour bus, seeing the sites, taking pictures and napping. Then in the evenings I got to spend time with Miles eating delicious food and seeing more sites. It was wonderful!

Self portrait on the tour bus. Ooooh, aaaah!

This is as close as I got to the Golden Gate Bridge. Good enough I thought. I got a picture thanks to the nice Belgian couple I met on the bus.

What ever happend to predictability?
The milk man, the paper boy, evening T.V
You miss your old familar friends, but
waiting just around the bend. . .

I saw a protest in Union Square. Still don’t know what about exactly. Something about the 99%.

The last day we visited Alcatraz. I thought it was beautiful. Creepy of course, but surprisingly beautiful.

Oh the ferry to Alcatraz.

A few pictures from Alcatraz:

So my bag was miraculously found. After 8 days I thought it was lost forever but it showed up somehow in St. George. They flew it up to Salt Lake and delivered it to me at 10:30 the night they found it. Thanks goodness!