I woke up on Sunday morning early, to finish compiling my notes and route map for the October Stairway Walk. More people than before had signed up on the facebook event invitation, and I was nervous about being prepared enough. As it turned out, I was right to be prepared.
After printing out my map and notes, I walked toward Van Ness muni station, stopping at the Walgreen’s to pick up a bottle of water and trail mix, just in case I felt hungry on the route. I telephoned one of my regular walkers to remind him that the event was that day, since I hadn’t seen him RSVP. He was happy I did, and got ready to attend.
The train was right on time, and I hopped on, riding the three stops to Forest Hill. From the station, I wended my way up Dewey Avenue to the meeting point at Pacheco and Merced Avenues. First to arrive was 
Mark Olson and two of his friends. Over the next 15 or so minutes, the rest of the folks ambled up afoot, in car, or via taxi. We were ready to go.
Forest Hill was carved from the Mexican land grant, Rancho San Miguel, on the death of the last Alcalde of San Francisco, which was roughly equivalent to a mayor. 1100 acres of the 4400 acres was purchased by Adolph Sutro, the rest by the Crocker family. But Sutro and his band of volunteers went on a reforestation binge, covering Forest Hill and surround areas with all sorts of trees.
It was those very trees in 1912 that made the development of the land such a challenge. But the designers of the neighborhood were wise, leaving as many of the trees intact as they could, as well as shaping the roads to the contours of the land. The resulting neighborhood is full of swooping curves, breathtaking vistas, and because of Arts and Crafts architects like Bernard Maybeck, who designed the Palace of Fine Arts among other distinguished building in San Francisco and the Bay Area, created a wonderland of homes that are among the most beautiful in the City. At the same time, the private development’s streets did not conform to the City’s requirements for grade, width, etc, and they were not accepted by the City for maintenance of curbs and roads until 1978, after a hue and cry (and lawsuit) by the neighborhood. This was the fairyland into which we ventured.
The weather was sunny and warm, delightful for climbing to the 771-foot summit. We largely followed the route set forth in the Bakalinsky book,Stairway Walks of San Francisco, although we did make a couple of detours that made the walk more interesting. I’ll be re-plotting my route map on google to incorporate these changes.
When we finished the walk, we talked about going for coffee and lunch back in the Castro, so some of us walked back to the train station, and hopped on the MUNI for the one-stop jaunt back to the Castro. We met at Starbucks and while some stayed for coffee there, others went to Philz down the street, and three of us went to Sliders for lunch. Their grilled cheese sandwich with an avocado is delightful.
While Erez, Mike, and I were eating lunch, I received a text message from George, asking me what I was doing. Right as we were finishing up with our food, he came up to us and he and I walked for a while, and we bid farewell to Erez and Mike.
Georgie was hungry, so we went over to Cafe Flore, where I had a piece of pie and a glass of sangria, while he had a big bowl of soup. From there, we walked down Noe Street for a few blocks before turning back toward the Castro. He wanted to try to find a Klondike ice cream bar, so we wandered into a couple of stores to no avail. Finally at the 7-11 on 18th Street, he settled for a Good Humor bar with crushed Oreo Cookies crusting it.
We continued walked a little while, ended up at Diamond Street, where we sat on a shady stoop talking about what’s going on between us. We’re still stuck in limbo – I want to pursue romantic relationship with him, he’s nervous about it but still not cutting himself off to the possibility. But that’s better than a sharp stick in the eye, yes?
Finally, the weather was cooling off, and he gave me a ride home. I had time for a quick shower, a short run over to look at a massage space (unacceptable, and way too expensive to boot), then Will and Bruin picked me up and we headed down to San Mateo to see a hockey team play a game. One of their friends, JP, is a member of the team, and I, having never seen a hockey game before, thought it might be fun.
There were quite a few guys that I was acquainted with on the team, which surprised me a bit. At first, I couldn’t figure out what was going on, it just seemed so random, but then I started getting into the game, cheering with the rest of the Goaldiggers’ supporters and taking pictures. The cold ice arena felt so good after spending the day in the heat, and hill climbing to boot!
After the game, which the Goaldiggers lost, we all went to Red Robin next to the rink for a team supper. Much merry-making and good-natured teasing ensued, as most of the team is gay, and the straight guys are hip and with it, so we all had fun.
Will and Bruin drove me home, and I climbed into bed, with a satisfying exhaustion laid upon me.
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