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Welcome to the 2001 Bay to
Breakers!
The mobile margarita
stand was a taste of paradise for its patrons.
So here we were
again.
We were walking the streets of San Francisco, marching to the beat
of a thousand different drummers.
Each of us had quite a buzz going, the result of having consumed quite
a few drinks during the previous few hours, when suddenly Rick Kaufman
of Santa Cruz – with whom we had cruised here – made a rather
frightening remark.
"Oh my gosh," he said, glancing at his watch on this warm
and sunny day. "It's not even noon yet!"
And thus, another Bay to Breakers was unfolding before our glassy eyes.
Our goal, as always, was to locate the tiki bar, a massive rolling
structure that is the centerpiece of fun at this 7.5-mile mobile block
party. Yet along the way, we found plenty of diversions: a trio of girls
dressed in see-through lingerie, full nudity (some of which was actually
worth looking at this year), the San Francisco "Survivor"
group, a mobile margarita stand, people doing beer bongs off a keg while
being held at a 45-degree angle and a lone man offering free breast
exams (he had no takers).
Yeah, but did they
"survive" to midnight like PubClub?
We missed seeing the Village People, a group of guys from San Diego
who make the rounds at these West Coast fun runs. They've become friends
of PubClub.com, and we were hoping to see those macho men. Didn't happen
but we did eventually reach our tiki bar quest, and The Bartender was
thrilled to have met the "establishment's" owners.
The PubClub crew
(L-R): Chris Cox, Kaufman, "Breakers" Bob and The Bartender..
 
A missed opportunity
for the lonely breast exam man.
In addition to the aforementioned Kaufman, our group consisted of "Breakers"
Bob, Chris Cox (a man so large one needs to use both his names) and
The Bartender. Bob lives in Los Gatos, an affluent community an hour
south of the City. Last year, tanked on a half-bottle of 151, he wound
up chasing a pair of girls down the beach with his underwear wrapped
around his ankles after swimming in San Francisco Bay . This year, he
didn't quite live up to his legend, but he did get mauled by a girl
near the finish line. There's just something magical about 'ol Bob at
the Bay to Breakers.
This year, before losing most of our functioning our brain cells, we
paused for a moment after pouring a large bottle of 151 into a carry-along
pitcher mixed with soda – yes, Bob went back to his rum punch-out
– to synchronize our cell phones. We wanted to be sure we all had
each other's number in case we got separated. Fortunately, such measures
proved only to be cautionary and not necessary.
 
There's a reason
he's known as "Breakers" Bob.
More than 50,000 people participated this year (estimates vary of the
exact number because many people walk up and join the event without
bothering to register). Virtually all are consuming some sort of cocktail.
The most popular method of transporting this booze is in a shopping
cart obtained from a local grocery store (the stores don't mind, because
the carts are all returned the next day).
One of the funniest sights of Bay to Breakers is these grocery stores
the morning of the race. The beer aisle looks as if a 7.0 earthquake
just rolled through town; last-minute beggers can't be choosy. Case
in point: We spotted a pair of fine-looking lasses drinking tall cans
of Budweiser. You just know they would have preferred a Coors Light
or some other more feminine brand. Had they made a more sincere effort
to persuade The Bartender of their wishes, then perhaps he would have
relinquished a couple of his Heinekens. Gotta give 'em credit, though,
for taking down the Buds.
Some 50,000 people
clogged the streeets, some of whom joined the PubClub party.
After the race, we retreated to Pier 23, a short hop from the start
of the race. Along the way, we encountered a pair of ladies new to San
Francisco and persuaded them to join us. Little did we know at the time
they are veterans of affairs like Breakers, having just moved from New
Orleans.
We then met more fun people at the bar and continued into the night.
Thank goodness Rick chose not to check his watch when we checked out.
Otherwise, he would have exclaimed: "Oh my gosh. It's after midnight!"
Later, it was all
smiles at Pier 23.
 Bay
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