I’ve been climbing to the top of this hill seeking this view for a decade. Cycling made its way into my life after the economic meltdown of ‘08 and subsequent related and unrelated losses: my job, my ability to run, my dog. It filled a void, got me outside, gave me space to channel my deep thoughts and wax philosophical. It was thing that was missing in my life: something that made me audibly go ‘whoa!’ by taking me to places like this, by teaching me about physical endurance. It changed my life so much that I started my own product line because I wanted other young women to have access to the joy that cycling brought me, not just because I wanted to sell clothes.
Last week, I came to the top of this hill, craving this view and some distance from the city. It seemed like it took me a good hour to ride out of the fog enshrouded city to reach the sun, but it probably took half that time. Some circumstances change the cadence at which time apparently passes. Peeking out of the fog you can see tips of radio towers, bridges, and just a plane or two passing above—glimpses of city life beneath the thick white blanket of cold.
San Francisco’s fog known as Karl rolls in during the summer months, but chose to show up today. It turns the city cold, windy and dark, during the longest days of the year, making the city into this upside down vortex. I don’t think you can help but to think when you see this photo that the fog seems to mirror what we as a world are underneath right now. We can’t see our way out, we don’t know how long it will be like this, we’re all a little lost and confused. Eventually it will lift and we’ll see sunny skies again.