Up and Down in San Francisco

The only time I ever wished it was consistently downhill from here.

We woke up bright and early on Sunday morning, determined to cross as many items off our list as possible.

Our first stop: Coit Tower, named after a badass San Franciscan woman: Lillian Hitchcock Coit.

Lillian was pretty damn cool. She became an honorary firefighter at age 15, when she witnessed a fire engine struggling up a hill during an attempt to respond to a fire call. Lillian helped pull the engine up the hill, and yelled for other people in the neighborhood to help pull the engine up the hill. She then became a mascot of sorts for the fire department, participating in parades and riding along during fire calls.

She was also pretty ahead of her time – smoking cigars, wearing pants when it was frowned upon for women to do so, and gambling at establishments that were considered men-only.

Coit left one-third of her estate to the city of San Francisco, to be used to add beauty to the city Lillian had always loved. Now, Coit Tower stand tall on the San Francisco skyline, visible from many points in the city.

What a way to leave a legacy.

The views were pretty crazy from the top. As someone who loves heights, I was in heaven.

The top of the tower had no ceiling – just a blanket of bright blue sky above. Each section of the wall had three windows cut out of it, allowing visitors to get a bird’s eye view of the entire city from every angle.

I looked out of the windows about ten times each, and after earning several reprimanding remarks from Kate after leaning too far out the windows too many times, we decided to move on to our next destination.

While on the elevator down, the elevator operator (yes, there was an elevator operator) asked where everyone was headed next. We told him Lombard Street, and he told us it was definitely a walk-able distance. A British woman our age informed us that they had walked to Coit Tower from Lombard Street, and said “It was a bit hilly.”

She did not lie.

Our trek to Lombard Street began mostly downhill. After resisting gravity for a bit, we finally decided to relent to the momentum, and run-jog down the hills. It was actually pretty fun!

But then we got to the uphill portions. I think the only way to accurately describe the angles of the streets we climbed is that halfway up one of the hills, Kate and I agreed that we were basically walking straight up a wall. Let me put it this way: I kept my phone in my purse while climbing, and my iPhone still registered that I climbed the equivalent of 64 flights of stairs. I can’t imagine what a FitBit would have told me.

I’d also decided, in the spirit of the Nepalese food we’d had from the day before, that I’d wear my backpack during the day, as a salute to my Everest preparations. I jokingly told Kate it was to help me train for Everest, but it stopped being a joke when we started hiking to Lombard Street.

For reference, the photo below was taken from the top of Lombard Street. The tower you see in the distance at the top right of the photo is Coit Tower, the starting point of our little jaunt.

A little bit of an upward climb.

Lombard Street is unique, because it’s an extremely steep road that contains eight hairpin turns on a brick road. It’s lovingly called The World’s Most Crooked Street. It was interesting to see the crowd of people around the street – it must be quite an experience to live in the houses that line the road. I thought it must be frustrating to live on such a tourist-infested street. I wondered if they had block parties.

Next stop: Chinatown.

Chinatown wasn’t what I expected it to be. There were a lot more tourist-y shops, with random San Francisco knick knacks and souvenirs, and t-shirts emblazoned with the words “I lost my heart in San Francisco…” or “Alcatraz Swim Team.” Part of me felt like we weren’t seeing the real Chinatown on the main strip, but we didn’t explore much further than the few blocks that would take us to the Dragon’s Gate, our main goal in our Chinatown adventure.

We wandered down the streets, headed toward the gate, which was pretty cool. There were quite a few people crowded around the street corners, taking pictures of the gate, or posing next to the dragon statues seated at the bottom of the structure. It kind of felt like we were playing the Pokemon Go version of tourist locations – but hey, maybe fifty-percent of the people we were seeing were actually playing Pokemon Go. Who’s to say?

Our arrival at the gate was a signal that it was time to head to one of the most exciting places on our list: David Rio’s Chai Bar.

Backstory: In high school, Kate and I both worked at a coffee shop that 100%, no question, absolutely without-a-doubt-no-arguing had the best chai tea in the world. It’s absolutely phenomenal, and has actually ruined chai tea for me, because I cannot drink any other brand of chai tea – it just does not compare. Don’t even try to bring Oregon Chai around me.

The brand was David Rio, and the flavor was Tiger Spice. I’ve never found another coffee shop that has carried David Rio, and I’m not entirely sure why the coffee shop in our small town carried it, but I’m glad they did.

So upon learning that there was a David Rio Chai Bar in San Francisco, I was elated. I jokingly told everyone I know that I hoped they had a chai flight so I could try all of the chai flavors.

And then I went to their website. And guess what?

They do!!

We anxiously arrived to the shop, which instantly reminded me of the bright orange containers I had scooped chai tea out of during the good old days working at our coffee shop.

Even better, one of the windows had an Oscar Wilde quote on it…kind of. “To love chai is the beginning of a life long romance.”

Definitely true.

We stepped inside, and it was perfect. The espresso machine was orange. It was fabulous. They were streaming a Kehlani playlist, and the ambiance of it all made me happy.

We ordered the chai flight right out of the gate.

They gave us crackers to cleanse our palettes.

Tiger Spice is their signature flavor, and it brought back memories when we downed the little cup. The White Shark Chai was delicious – chai tea made with White Tea instead of Black Tea, and proceeds from which go to help save the white sharks. Power Chai tasted like Tiger Spice Chai’s baby brother with less flavor – but Sir Spice-a-Lot was another story. Sir Spice-a-Lot was like Tiger Spice that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be on steroids or cocaine. It was strong. I got through a few sips of it, but then gave up, because it was way too much.

I liked the White Shark Chai so much that I decided to buy a canister of it. Later, on our way home, TSA would flag me at the gate and ask to search through my bag. They’d find the canister, covered in tiny speckles of chai from sitting on the counters of a chai shop for who knows how long, and swipe the entire thing down with mystery pieces of paper, and do chemical tests on it before letting me go home. Good times, good times.

I also purchased mini packets of the other flavors of chai David Rio makes that I hadn’t tried before.

Then, the ChaiPA.

Oh, the ChaiPA. Such a great name. Such a great idea.

Not so great to drink.

The first few sips were amazing, and I was stoked that someone had the revolutionary insight to create such a drink. Then, the more we drank, the spicier it became. As you can see, there are tiny flecks of chai floating in the beer, which became really hard to get down as we neared the bottom of our glass. It was a smidge too spicy, and the aftertaste became odd after awhile. It’s definitely a novelty drink to try, just to know what it tastes like, but certainly not something I’d buy or drink on any kind of regular basis.

We were a bit hungry by then, so we headed to Tartine Bakery, where we waited in line for about twenty minutes just to order. But it was totally worth it.

We ordered lunch and carried it to Mission Dolores Park, where we sat on a bench, people-watched, and enjoyed our Tartine purchases.

I ordered the Jambon Royale & Gruyere sandwich, which was quite possibly the best sandwich I’ve ever had. Don’t let the name fool you, it was a pretty simple sandwich, with melted cheeses, ham, and mustard on their famous bread.

Good God.

Upon the advice of the woman ahead of us in line, we ordered a morning roll, as well. It was indescribably good.

It was a soft roll covered in cinnamon sugar granules that instantly melted in your mouth upon each bite, every now and then the sweet flavor of candied oranges colliding with your taste buds.

If it weren’t for the lengthy wait in line, I totally would have gone back to bring a few home on the plane with me.

We walked around Mission Dolores for awhile, taking in the palm trees and San Franciscans, some who played with their children, some who enjoyed picnics, some who drank glasses on champagne on the grass, and some who did all three.

From there, we walked to see the Painted Ladies, a row of lovely Victorian houses known for their beauty.

At the park across the street, we met the coolest women, who were part of a “Scooter Gang.” They were super cool, and we wanted to be them. They were standing next to their scooters, all wearing jean jackets with various Scooter Gang catchphrases on them, eating snacks. They were trying to get a group picture, so I offered to take one. I told them we were jealous of their gang and wanted to join, and said we also had snacks and jean jackets, so we were basically halfway there even though we lacked the scooters.

“You totally get it!” they said.

After getting over our jealousy of their gang, Kate and I decided to cross the Golden Gate Bridge and go to Kirby Cove, where we’d seen many a cool Instagram picture of people swinging at a beach with an incredible view of the bridge.

When we arrived, we found the trail that led to the beach, and hiked through the California wilderness.

I took a deep breath of the fresh California outdoors, and knew that it was exactly what I had been missing from the rest of the trip.

It was perfect.

When we arrived at the beach, there was a stunning view of the bridge. It was so good to be near the ocean, free in the outdoors.

Unfortunately, both of the swings had been broken, only single pieces of rope hanging from barren trees. However, you couldn’t beat the view of the bridge.

I chased the water along the shoreline for awhile, and we sat on the beach for a few minutes, just enjoying the view.

We then decided to head back before it got dark, and the mountain lions and bobcats began wandering around looking for tourists with baked goods from Tartine to eat.

We decided to end the night the only way we could: another trip to In-N-Out. Bless.

Throughout the whole trip, I’d had the song “Lights” by Journey stuck in my head, so on a whim, I looked up karaoke bars around us. There was one 900 feet away, so Kate and I went to it, and I sang my heart out to the city by the bay. I even convinced Kate to sing “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon, one of my go-to karaoke songs, with me. It was super fun.

All too soon, it was time to return home. I wasn’t ready to make the 70 degree jump back to -10 degrees, but the flight went much smoother than the first, and our Minnesotan bones quickly readjusted to the winter chill.