San Francisco is a mere 47 square miles but within this compact 7x7 industrial grid you can still find room for nature, albeit in the vertical direction. Taylor and I found ourselves high above the city, feeling a little damp from the fog and rain and a little breathless from our short hike. The journey upwards takes you from urban gridlock to dense thickets full of cypress trees and finally to a lonely summit christened with a massive concrete cross. Rows upon rows of pastel suburban development were sprawled out beneath us, colors muted under the overcast sky.
Something about the muffled sounds, biting air, and petrichor make rainy days my favorite kind of weather for trekking into nature, much to the dismay of everyone else involved. Mud never bothered me, and it was muddy and cold enough to have the entire mountain to ourselves, completely devoid of locals. Everything from the fog and dew and looming cross belonged to us.