While Ellie poured over volumes in the UCSF Library one Sunday in mid-November, I hiked up and around Twin Peaks. A narrow couple lanes encircle both bumps, forming a figure eight. But unlike the tourist magnet to the North, the eight has no sidewalk–only a retaining wall separating the street from a muddy trail.
The fog easily keeps the mud slick and treacherous. After a few near slips, I moved to the road. And after a few near automobile hits, I moved on top of the wall.
Its back is comfy eight inches wide, but feels like a tight rope. On one side, cars whiz by; on the other, a nasty fall down the rocky hill awaits. Descending on the southern side, both wall and trail disappear, and cars and pedestrians flirt perilously.