Although our weekend personal getaways take us to San Francisco proper, our own home-away-homes during our location gigs have always been among the redwoods on the peninsula. There, the sidewalks are paved with fallen leaves and the smell of earth permeates everything, even when the windows are closed.
This time though, there were no such cabins available. As a runner up for accommodations, I had been hoping for a beach house in Pacifica or even a house in Daly City that might have a yard but even that search came up empty. And then, a week before take off, a search lacking filters came up with this beauty (photo from MLS):
I must admit though: it's not all concrete.
At the end of our street, just a ten to fifteen walk away (depending on how much sniffing Tucker needs to do), is Kite Hill—a quarter acre mound of green where numerous trails from different parts of the city (and elevations of the city) intersect. Here, people come to just look out across the bay or let their dogs socialize in the morning.
Just from Kite Hill, I could see three green spaces: Corona Heights, Tank Hill, Twin Peaks. I could see people on those mounds of earth, so I estimated they couldn't possibly be that far sway. I decided Tucker and I should trek to a couple of those green spaces and get to know the city.
Indeed it was not far—it just a lot of ups and downs to get there.
Corona Heights Park was only half an hour walk on city streets before our feet touched soil again. Up through the dog park to the tippy-top where we could see much more of the city and the bay.
Many hills (and about twenty minutes) later, we arrived at its base. There, in the distance, those two little reddish pillars are the Golden Gate Bridge.