A Blog Along The Lincoln Highway

I guess it’s our own Lincoln Highway tradition now: we celebrate getting to the Western Terminus by going out for a nice Italian dinner on Union Street. We had stumbled upon the restaurant called Capannina when we made our first cross-country trek last August, and Bob and I think we could try that again. So we walk from our motel (the unusual but wonderful Pacific Heights Inn, an old style motel that seems a little out of place in urban SF) toward Capannina, and we find the place closed for a private party. The owner comes to the door to apologize, and Bob says “Where would you suggest we go for a good Italian dinner around here?”

“Try Rose’s Cafe. That’s where I’d go,” the guy says. “It’s about four blocks that way on the other side of the street.”

We start hoofing it. It’s at least eight or ten blocks before we find the place, with tables on the sidewalk and the relaxed feel of a French (or Italian) cafe. We get a bottle of Pinot Grigio, Glenn orders the Rigatoni Bolognese, Bob and I both go for the Linguine with Clams, and we share some grilled calamari for appetizer. A nice dinner.

We talk of the trip and the odd relief that comes with completing a journey. We still have lots of work to do, with stops planned in Evanston WY and Woodbine IA on our way east, but heading east does mean heading for home, so the adventure changes.

The long walk back to the motel is refreshing and quick. When I get to my room and start plugging in all the devices that I need to recharge every night, I can’t find my camera. Then I remember I hung it on the back of my chair at Rose’s. I left the camera there. We were the last people to leave the restaurant, so I figure it’s closed by now. I’ll have to retrieve the camera in the morning. If it’s still there.