Not My Valley

Valley Street

Date: July 6, 2009
Neighborhoods Covered: Noe Valley, Mission (kinda)
Streets Completed: 28th Street, Valley

Sometimes ridiculous things bring me down. The other day, for example, I had dropped some stuff off at Scrap for a client and was driving back toward Bayshore when I passed a furniture outlet of some sort that displayed on the sidewalk out front a loveseat-and-chair set upholstered in a garish floral velour-esque fabric. Most people would simply drive past, think, "Eh, wouldn't want that in my house" (unless they did, in which case I'll just say that our tastes differ), and never think about it again. But not me. Nope, this living room set got me thinking about how there's so much ugly and cheap (and not the good kind of cheap, which is to say inexpensive but not bad) stuff in the world, how maybe someone would buy this terrible set because it was the only thing they could afford, how depressing it would be to live in a house with this furniture, and on and on. This conversation in my head lasted well onto Potrero, which is to say, entirely too long.

Anyway, I thought back to the ugly living room set as I was trudging up Valley Street the other day.

To be clear, Valley is actually a lovely street, as the photo above suggests, and nothing about it smacked of awful furniture. But the farther I got from Church Street, the more I thought, "Wow, I don't think I could live more than a few blocks away from a major street, especially on a hill, because, man, what's around here, anyway?" Cue the tumbleweeds.

Allow me to be the first to admit that this line of logic is jagged at best. In all of what is officially Noe Valley, I don't think it's possible to ever be more than, what, seven or eight blocks from either Church or 24th Street, so it's not like we're dealing with the Outer Sunset here. (Sorry, OS, but it's true.)

But at the same time, Noe Valley is steeply hilly enough that it's easy to feel that you're deep into somewhere other than San Francisco when, in fact, you're on, say, Valley and Castro. The fact that you can see downtown San Francisco glittering in the distance enhances (for me, at least), its not-entirely-city feel. And if I've realized anything about myself by now, it's that I'm a city girl, so the thought of living somewhere that doesn't necessarily feel like it's part of a metropolis kind of sets me on edge.

The flip side of this, of course, is that neither Valley nor 28th featured the hallmarks of many city (and particularly Hayes Valley) streets: no smeared dog poop, no sprinkles of broken glass from busted car windows, no visible grime, no ridiculous tags on things like mailboxes and garbage cans. They did feature plenty of charming houses, and flowers in bloom, and a calming quiet. I can see how they'd appeal to others.

Me, I'll stick with my sweet little urban alley where, for better or worse, it's impossible to feel like I'm anywhere but in the thick of things.

Peaks and a Valley

Stanyan Street

Day 112
Neighborhoods Covered: a sliver of the Inner Sunset, Cole Valley, Upper Haight
Streets Completed: Carl, Grattan, Alma, Rivoli, Downey

On Thursday, after a quick trip to a client at the very beginning of Irving Street, I braved the insane wind and walked east. Carl Street I know well, but much of the rest of Cole Valley is uncharted territory. In fact, beyond Carl and Cole streets, it's sort of terra incongita. So I took myself down a few of the little slips of streets that weave between Stanyan and Belvedere to begin to remedy that.

Cole Valley sits beneath several tall things: Mount Sutro, Twin Peaks, and Buena Vista. If you cannot see Sutro Tower looming above you, chances are you're not actually in Cole Valley. And yet, and yet: from the little neighborhood park between Rivoli and Alma, I could see, to my surprise, a good deal of the city stretching out below. To the north I could pick out USF, Lone Mountain, and a swath of the Richmond; to the east, downtown. But how come? I couldn't recall having walked uphill to any significant degree, and, especially from the edge of the park, could almost feel Mt. Sutro hulking behind me. My sense of altitude was skewed, to say the least.

I suppose the city's Valleys--Cole, Hayes, Noe (am I forgetting one?)--share some similarities: a strong neighborhood-y feel, lots of babies in strollers, sweet little main drags. But somehow, perhaps by dint of being nestled between hills high enough to actually make it feel like a valley, Cole Valley seems different. Quieter, perhaps. Cozier. Greener.

Leaving Cole Street for another day, I finished off Carl and took Stanyan a few blocks to Waller in order to complete the western stretch of the street. I veered off at one point onto Downey, on which I was conscious of going uphill--and then back down again. By the time I hit Waller and Scott, I was ready to hop on the 71, so oddly tired and draggy was I. But although I actually managed to pass a bus stop at the same time a bus was arriving, I goaded myself on (because, really, it's a matter of blocks), and walked my weary self home to my own valley.

Uphill Both Ways

Bradford Street

Day 71
Neighborhoods Covered: Bernal Heights
Streets Completed: Nevada, Prentiss

I didn't pick the hottest day of the year to traipse around Bernal Heights--that would've been Sunday rather than Friday--but it was damn close. And while you (if you are anything like me) might think of Bernal as a neighborhood with some gently sloping hills and one big crest with a radio (TV?) tower rising out of the top, allow me to correct you (and myself): it's all uphill, in every possible direction.

What I thought would be a simple walk in the sliver of time I had before a client meeting wound up feeling like a hike to the base camp of Mt. Everest. SO MUCH UPHILL. Needless to say, I was sweaty and gross by the time I was done--due in part to my overzealous layering before leaving home--though I'd like to think I managed to air out sufficiently before I reached my client's doorstep. To her credit, even if I did smell, she didn't complain.

One thing I noticed while walking constantly uphill is that Bernal is exploding with renovations and development. It's literally impossible to go a block on many streets without seeing at least one house being redone, and sometimes it's several. I also passed several workers doing some sort of sidewalk repair/creation/grading, including the fellow at the bottom of the steps leading down from the topmost block of Nevada Street (fine, fine: there was a bit of downhill) who cheerfully asked me to step around the concrete he'd just poured and told me that if I came back the following day, the sidewalk would be all ready for me. It all makes me wonder what's happened out in this neighborhood to spur such a fiesta of change and renewal.

I have much more of Bernal to do (and several people who've volunteered to do it with me; Scott and Dana, you're on the hook), but I've made a solemn vow that I'll wait for a crappy, overcast day to finish off the rest of the damn hills, leaving about six or seven blocks of Cortland to stroll when it's sunny.

Bits and Pieces

Day 20
Neighborhoods Covered: Telegraph Hill
Streets Completed: Bellair, Midway

Day 21
Neighborhoods Covered: Financial District
Streets Completed: Trinity

It's been a slow and relatively walk-less few days. Yesterday I had a sliver of time to kill before seeing a client in Telegraph Hill, so I parked the car and did a quick scoot around the surrounding streets. The day was brilliant, clear, sunny, and from the upper reaches of Chestnut Street (which clearly dead-ends into a wall at this point, though that didn't deter me), I could see far into the East Bay.

What surprised me was how quickly Telegraph Hill comes down to earth--and I mean that literally. Walk down a few blocks from Chestnut (perhaps on, say, Bellair and Midway) and you're roughly at sea level. It didn't seem like such a rapid decline on the way down, and for part of the walk back up things seemed nice and easy. But then I hit the 1900 block of Grant, which is at, like, a 90-degree angle, and changed my tune slightly. By the time I got back to my car, I had to shed my coat and pause for a moment to catch my breath before reporting to work.

Today found me down on Montgomery with a client all day, so the most I could squeeze in during business hours was one mini street (Trinity) and the random assortment of blocks that got me to and from Madeline's at lunchtime.

When I left around 4, I was struck by the desire to knock off a good stretch of Sutter (the first block of which I'd trod earlier in the day) until I actually started walking. I got as far as Grant (much flatter at this point) before my sinuses made my head feel close to explosion, so I gave up the ghost.

On the bus home, though, I started plotting for tomorrow. Should enough sinus drainage (yes!) occur by then, I've got one long-ass street I intend to knock off once and for all. Stay tuned.