Hike SF

My morning walk to Civic Center swung farther towards Potrero than usual today, and I ended up walking down Utah between Mariposa and Alameda. Two thirds of that span are furniture shops, no doubt situated strategically to serve the upscale district to the south and east. The first such block was entirely antique shops, which were crowded with beautiful furniture and presumably exorbitant prices. You know the sort of place–no price tags, because if you need to know the price, you can’t afford it.

I passed by just as the owners were opening their shops. More accurately I should say trying to open, as at least two were having considerable difficulty. The first were a couple of elderly men trying each key on a big key ring over and over again. “Did you try this one,” one would ask. “I’ve tried all of them. Twice!”

The latter was an elderly woman, weighing all of a hundred pounds, trying to push open the scissoring metal gate. It was just too heavy, but damn was she pushing. I thought about helping, but nixed the notion when it occurred to me that this must be a daily struggle. Who am I to interrupt Sisyphus?

With time to spare, I decided to cross Market and walk up Gough. I regretted this decision when I tripped on some uneven pavement and nearly broke my neck. Looking back, my reaction was a combination of a gasp and a chuckle. What are city workers to do when they find uneven pavement like this? Fix it, perhaps? Nope, just paint it bright yellow.

Thanks for all your help, San Francisco governance.

On Saturday I moseyed down to Mission Bay to finish off a few stray roads, and came back over Potrero. And I discovered a few interesting things along the way. First off, many streets that appear on maps near Mission Bay no longer exist. Mostly they’ve fallen to UCSF construction, which is slowly turning Mission Bay into a concrete and glass oracles to nursing. The common theme is an otherwise empty lot littered with I-beams, mounds of gravel, vacant machinery and occasional security guards. Of course these guards insist that you’re trespassing.

Second, following 20th Street to its very bitter end, you’ll encounter a few interesting things. Just beyond Tennessee you’ll find an abnormally large number of people waiting for the bus. The neighborhood otherwise has all the qualities of a ghost town, but for some reason at least 75 people will be waiting for the bus.

After Illinois you’ll find yourself in the docks. Three rent-a-cops will ask you where you’re going. Remind them that you’re on a public road and they’ll begrudgingly go back to eating their subway sandwiches. A beaten up old truck will present you with messages of hate (e.g. “FUCK YOU LARRY, SUCK MY DICK”) and a strangely large number of cyclists will ride by. Because you’re going to a dead end, if you’re anything like me, you’ll assume these cyclists are buying drugs in the boat house. I’m not a connoisseur, but this seems like a good place to exchange contraband.

When you near the end, you may be awe struck by a gigantic pile of scrap metal that includes multiple MUNI buses. Gates with barbed wire surround this pile, and proclaim US Customs ownership.

On the way back, I wound up through Potrero, eventually making my way down Vermont, a street which some conjecture is curvier than Lombard. Given the height of the stairs, Vermont is clearly steeper, and seemed to be windier. But unable to recollect a rigorous mathematical definition of “curvy”, I abandoned hope of ending the debate.

Roughly a month ago I decided to try walking down every public street in San Francisco, a challenge which should end up taking more than a year. In the literal sense this page is meant to capture my finds and happenings along the way. But the real purpose is to champion divergence from the beaten path, even within the big city. Many great places in SF are tucked away on side streets, down alleys and in unexpected parts of town. For instance, along one of my first walks I discovered that the headquarters of the EFF is less than three blocks from my house, and just a week ago I happened upon an old beached schooner near the Mission Bay Marina that was full of flowers.

Estimates of the total distance of all roads in SF are dubious at best, but 850 miles sounds reasonable to me. That would be 17.3 miles of road per square mile of city, or one road every 300 feet if they went east-west across the peninsula.

Using that estimate, I’m roughly 13% finished today. On weekends I tend to take at least one three-hour walk, often two. On weekdays, I take increasingly circuitous routes from my house to pick-up points for the company shuttle. As you might imagine, the straight line paths between my house and those shuttle stops have all been completed long ago, so trips that once took 45 minutes now take an hour and a half.