On April 19th, 2008, the pacific coastal winds burrowed through the avenues of San Francisco and up the hillsides peaked with houses. Very few people seemed out on the town, and the ones who braved the gusts held close to personal items darting abruptly against the 60mph bursts. Perfect day to be a moron.
Sheryl and I were in our Honda Element ZipCar, fresh out of Safeway, when she called out from the passenger seat a huge stairwell that zig-zagged up the hillside on the edge of the Sunset District. Merging abruptly, we drove around a few block till we hit 15th and Noriega, parked the car, and with a bit of obnoxious cheerleading dragged Sheryl from our warm confines up the paved street.
We chose the concrete stairwell over alternate paved loop (well, by chose I mean I just started walking there in determination), and ascended over tree limbs freshly thrown from the still bustling wind. My cheerleading continued, and I helped cold-Sheryl move further to the set of zig-zag stairs we saw from a distance prior- impressed that it was, indeed, as rickety as we originally assumed.
We pushed onward through six stairwells to the mound of the hilltop- our backs to the wind, holding onto the railing as the winds sometimes pushed us heavily to a side. The hilltop was lined with trees to the east and the west, but the north and south lay unexposed. The land was sunspot with grass and sand – dry, and exposed. On the east a graffiti tagged historical marker sited the history of Grand View Park, and the endangered vegitation it guards. The wind continued to fire rounds of sand in our face, but the open top felt eerily similar to the freefall of a skydive. After reading the marker, snapping photos (as best we can), and pausing for the amazing 360° view, we made a beeline for the exit.
Stairwell down was worse by far; the wind lifted more of the hill sand up the zig-zag into our faces as we stepped over branches and slowly inched blind down the rickety steps. We survived it and skipped the concrete stairs in favor of the split road (per Sheryl’s recommendation), back again in the safety of the warm Element.
Although Sheryl considered me nuts, I was rather pleased by my spontaneous adventure; certain I was the only moron who would scheme that on such a windy day.
We started the car, made the route home around the hill with our groceries and our hair full of sand. We stopped only briefly for a young couple exiting the back side of the hill from a second stairwell I hadn’t noticed- we probably missed each other at the top by barely a minute. I set home satisfied that there were others in this city dumb enough for the same small adventures.