Ah…cycling over the Golden Gate Bridge. Threading tourists with selfie sticks and jersey-strapped cyclists over the Pacific Ocean is sort of like if Tron lit up a Fisherman’s Wharf suspended a mile in the sky. Antony and I, on our own fancy-ish bikes with far less dynamic threads, didn’t mind

Before you start getting all randy, get your minds out of the gutter – I’m not talking about that “friend” who comes over at 2:30 in the morning because you have a fifth of Jack Daniels and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s you had to polish off. That territory