An Outsider's Impression of San Francisco

Many years ago I sat in a Barcelona airport waiting for my flight and talking with a man who had traveled extensively around the world. I asked which place was the most beautiful he'd ever been. His response: Istanbul and San Francisco. 

Since then I have made it a goal to visit both those places. But as the years have passed, I started to doubt if San Francisco was the Mecca it used to be. It seemed that every story I heard of the City by the Bay was either of its increasing homeless problem, crime, or high cost of living. 

Finally, twenty-nine years after my conversation in the airport, I was able to make it to San Francisco. We only spent two days, but here are a few of my observations. 

Golden Gate Park.

Zoomed-in view of San Francisco from Alcatraz Island.

I will say right off the bat that San Francisco was absolutely beautiful. He was right about that! The first thing we did when we came into town was drive across the Golden Gate Bridge to a viewpoint at Marin Headlands. Transitory fog engulfed the bay, but when it finally moved out we had sweeping views of the bridge and San Francisco skyline. Both were amazing. I was intrigued by the blue of the bay, the ingenuity of the bridge, the verdancy of the rolling hills, the mystery of the fog and the smell of the sea on the wind. 

I continued to be impressed when we went to Golden Gate Park, the West Coast's version of Central Park. Fog was there too, along with tall wind-swept trees, lots of green grass, ponds, flowers, ducks and even bison. I was further impressed when I learned from a worker that this whole area used to be sand dunes and the early settlers started by planting trees along the coast for a wind-break, and eventually worked their way inland. 

But . . . there was a caveat in this Garden of Eden: Don't leave your car. Yes, the worker told us this too. He warned that car break-ins were rampant and that if you leave your car too long unattended, you run the risk of someone breaking in and stealing anything of worth. I will admit that this bit of information made me a little anxious during the rest of our stay, but luckily for us, we were never victims. 

On the "red line," making our way to the city center.

From the corner of 28th Avenue and Anza Street, looking toward Lone Mountain and University of San Francisco.

Public transportation here was disappointing. I thought that because San Francisco was progressive and liberal, then their public transportation system would be very much akin to that in Europe. In my opinion, I was very wrong. 

The first time we parked our car and came to a rail station, we spent forty-five minutes trying to figure out how to pay our fare. There was no counter with a real person behind it. None of the passengers passing by seemed very friendly or helpful. We couldn't just plug in our credit card and buy four tickets. We eventually learned that we had to purchase a “card” and put money on it, but how much we knew not. After three tries it canceled our credit card and we had to use another one. What a nightmare! For a while I thought we'd end up missing our ball game—But we finally figured it out. 

We took the red line to the city center where we had to switch trains to Oracle Park. I thought it would be straight forward with signs pointing to our connecting train like there is in Europe. Maybe I was blind, but I couldn't see it. We ended up back above ground where we ran into a very nice gentleman who went out of his way to get us to our destination. He was the nicest local person we met during those two days. 

Our evening at the ballgame displayed once again the magic of the city. We had an upper balcony seat where we could look out over the bay. There was a lively atmosphere in the stadium and from what I could tell, much of the music they played came from local musicians or songs about San Francisco (for example Journey, Lovin' touchin' squeezin'; Starship, We built this city; and Metallica). 

Oracle Park is a beautiful stadium that sits next to San Francisco Bay.

When listening to critics talk of San Francisco, they will emphasize the homeless issue and “feces in the street.” I will be honest, I didn't see much of that and there was no incident when I felt in danger. The only time I recall seeing homeless people was near the corner of Embarcadero and Market Street where we saw a couple tents on the sidewalk. Admittedly we only spent two days in the city and stayed mostly on touristy streets. 

Alcatraz was just as good as I hoped it would be. Not only did it have a fascinating history, but the view from the island, including the boat ride, offered spectacular views of the city and Golden Gate Bridge. 

Alcatraz Island.

Over and over in my mind I couldn't believe the genius of the architecture of the city. The Bay Bridge, which we could also see from Alcatraz, was a double-decker bridge. I knew there were also tunnels that ran beneath the bay. Nearly every building in the city was built on some sort of hill. And to think that it was nearly obliterated during the 1906 earthquake and they had to rebuild it! 

During our last evening on our way to the hotel, we had another memorable experience. At the far end of the subway car in which we traveled, a homeless man stood by himself. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to finger something in the center of the cloth. Then he plugged one nostril and started snorting whatever was in the handkerchief. I am no expert on drugs, but it appeared he was snorting cocaine. It wasn't exactly the environment I was excited to have my daughters in. 

San Francisco trolley.

We survived our two days in San Francisco. We did not get injured or robbed. We learned that it was indeed a beautiful city. It also had a shady side that demanded caution, although I thought the stereotypes were a bit embellished. 

Hotels in San Francisco were very expensive. We considered a room in Oakland, but decided it was far too crime-ridden. So we decided on Colma, a suburb just south of San Francisco. I thought it would be more laid back and calmer, but it wasn't. I was nervous to leave my car out in the parking lot overnight.⸺When it was time to check out and leave town, I will admit that there was a burden lifted from my shoulders. I was happy to escape San Francisco in one piece. ♠

 

San Francisco skyline and Golden Gate Bridge from Marin Headlands.

Jarvis Peak (#11)

The day before my hike I prepared by eating a cheeseburger, grilled cheese sandwich, a cup of malted ice cream and a Pepsi. On the day of the hike I prepared by bringing too little water and starting too late. I felt like it was doomed to fail. 

Jarvis Peak is a little-known summit in Washington County. I'm sure there's some history behind its naming. “Jarvis” is a pioneer name, but I couldn't find any stories related to the peak. I'm sure it was named after George Jarvis, or one of his decedents. 

The Shivwits Reservation lies on one side and the Arizona state line on another. Of the few people who have hiked the peak, most tackle it from the west side. Not wanting to be like everyone else, I chose to begin on the east. 

I parked the vehicle at Laub Pond, which is nothing more than a large mud puddle used to water cattle. I could have started closer to the peak but I chose this location to give me greater distance and also to hopefully have a more gradual incline. 

The first couple miles were relatively flat and dusty. For the most part I followed a cattle trail. Already I could feel the heat building up and was confident that in nearby St. George the temperatures would reach the mid-nineties. 

View from inside a cave.

Only one eventful thing happened along that first stretch. I spotted a pair of caves that sat side by side. I debated whether I wanted to make the detour, but finally decided to go for it. I hoped to find some ancient writing inside, but didn't. Both were large and one went back far enough that at first I thought it was a mine shaft. An interesting hole or tunnel in the rock connected the two caves and by crawling on my knees I could squeeze from one to the other. One had a niche in the back where a fire had been built. I could see the black soot on the wall. Was it ancient or modern? 

After the caves it was time to begin the climb in earnest, and this first part was the steepest I would face all day. Loose rocks and dirt provided no good traction. I used sapling branches of creosote plants to pull me up. After a little stickity-too-ity, I made it to the first little bench where I found an elevated view of the land around me and a small cluster of Utah century plants. 

I followed the ridge on the left to Jarvis Peak.

Utah century plant.

By this point the gnats were awful. They swarmed all around my face and arms, probably licking up the salty sweat. For much of the way up I couldn't help but to repeat a line of poetry I had written after high school: Gnats, gnats, I hate those brats; infesting my body like dirty rats! 

There was very little in the way of beauty with the plants I saw. An occasional cactus here and there was in bloom and also the manzanita plants I would encounter higher up, but nothing like my hike a few weeks ago when the desert was blossoming like a rose. 

Manzanita plants in full bloom.

Final pitch to the summit.  Jarvis Peak is the knob on the left.

I climbed on a ridge that would take me all the way to the summit. To my right sat an imposing canyon that separated me from the next ridge. When I ascended nearly to the top I was met by another imposing canyon on my left, this one much more rugged than the other one. Somewhere on this side of the Jarvis Peak was the Apex Mine, of which I knew little about. 

The final pitch to the summit was another extremely steep section. This was the segment that had the manzanita plants in bloom. 

Lady bugs everywhere on the summit, including on my lens!

When I reached the summit there was a surprise waiting for me: ladybugs. And they were everywhere! At least they weren't gnats and landed on my skin with much more grace. They swarmed all over the rocks and plants. 

Although the hike up was difficult and lackluster, the view from the top was spectacular. To the north and east rose Pine Valley Mountain and the red cliffs north of St. George. To the northwest with much grandeur stood West Mountain, which has the only summit in the Beaver Dam Mountains higher than Jarvis Peak. To the south was the bulk of the Beaver Dam Mountains along with the Virgin River Gorge. I examined all the dirt roads I could see to learn where they went. Faintly visible through the haze were the Mormon Mountains and Moapa Peak in the west. ♠
 

Looking south from the peak.  I believe these roads are connected with the Ajax Mine.

West Mountain Peak, the highest point in the Beaver Dam Mountains.

Pine Valley Mountain.

In the distance is Moapa Peak and the Mormon Mountain Range.  The specks you see are lady bugs!

Jarvis Peak
 

Miles from car (one way): 4


Elevation gain: 2,777 feet


Final elevation: 6,529 feet

Gnats 

Gnats, gnats; I hate those brats, 

They bug me, hug me, 

Infesting my body like little rats.
 

They land in my ear 

And dance on my cheek; 

Like a tiny air fleet 

That can nibble and eat.
 

If I could smack 'em, I'd crack 'em, 

Like a walnut on Christmas Day, 

But each time I slap one, 

Another small pest keeps buzzing my way.