Sunday starts at Chrissy field with whiskey and MD 20/20, because that’s how the best days start. The legendary ride over the Golden Gate bridge was beautiful and we stopped shortly after for group photos up at the bunker. James got naked, but that wasn’t the only law being broken: after several miles of lane splitting and traffic holds the police intervened to let us know how poorly we are adulting. Hillary’s law enforcement experience was much better though with the angry demands that she, “tell your friends to take their dumb little scooters or whatever and go home.” After many hours we rode said dumb scooters back in to the city and formed the world’s dumbest/comfiest cuddle puddle. Hugs were had by all. Thanks SF, you did it again.