San Francisco has a lot of hills. Contributors to this column have clambered over and around many of them, but until now, we’ve kept one of our all-time favorites in our backpack: Buena Vista Park.
It is the city’s oldest park, dating back to 1867, and there’s much to explore in a small 37-acre package. With incredible views (it’s no misnomer), heart-pounding ascents, and a network of more off-road paths than first meets the eye, it’s a close cousin to Corona Heights. (By proximity too — you could, and should, do both in one go.)
But while Corona Heights is old-school SF, a gnarly old quarry and outcrop with little cover, Buena Vista is heavily forested, giving a walk there a sense of remove from the city. I particularly like it after a rainstorm that rinses off dust and fills the eccentric gutters (more on those later) with leaves and runoff.
Near the top, there’s a sign mapping the arboreal variety, and tree lovers get giddy at the different biomes, including a coast live oak woodland, a redwood grove, and a lot of what SF Rec and Park calls “mixed exotic” — some whopping eucalyptus — and cypress forest. The botanical profusion extends to the surrounding streets and gardens as well.
The ground cover was thinned years ago, discouraging both camping and cruising. (If you’re still inclined, however, there’s an app for that.) Worries about public sex and drug use have complicated past renovation plans, especially around the children’s playground.
But it’s the steep slopes and lack of sunshine that most likely factor into Buena Vista’s relative lack of foot traffic. The only reliable places to see fellow park-goers are the tennis courts, now often pinging with pickleballers; the lawn at the summit clearing, popular with dog walkers and sun seekers; and the grassy slope and stairs that border Haight Street on the park’s northwestern edge. That’s where a motley crew of, shall we say, Haight regulars hang out and where a mobile Pit Stop service is often stationed.
Don’t let this dissuade you. If you’re starting on Haight Street, the southeast stairway (corner of Baker) leads steeply up through oak and redwood groves. It’s a great place to start. At the top of the stairs, asphalt paths branch out. If you stick to the left (east side), you’ll likely pass an old quarry — now a rest spot for the park’s gardeners — and find the tennis courts.
If you stick to the park’s perimeter, you’ll catch glimpses of gaudy, ornate, and just plain massive mansions along Buena Vista East and West, as the two halves of the bordering street are called. At 737 Buena Vista West is the Spreckels Mansion, where Danny Glover and Jack London once lived, presumably not at the same time. It also hosted a recording studio where the Grateful Dead laid down some of the world’s most boring music. (I grew up in the Haight and can’t stand the Dead. Go figure.)
One of the most modest buildings along the park is also one of the most famous, at least among people of a certain age who watched a lot of crap TV. The duplex at 171–173 Buena Vista East was used as the opening shot in the ’80s sitcom “Too Close for Comfort.” Hitchcock fans might also recognize the old St. Joseph Hospital, now condos, at 351–355 Buena Vista East, as the sanatorium where Jimmy Stewart is treated for vertigo.
Last but not least, my favorite apartment buildings in SF are here, perched like bookends on either side of the park at 65 Buena Vista East (aka “Casa Buena Vista”) and 555 Buena Vista West. Both are tall, chalk-white, and delicately decorated, speaking to an age when SF wasn’t scared of adding height and glamor to its outlying neighborhoods.
But you’re here for the adventure, not the architecture, so let’s get back to the park itself.
Single-track mind
One reason Buena Vista plays larger than its small footprint is the steepness, as noted. But another is that it’s criss-crossed with trails of various qualities. The main ones are wide and paved with asphalt (and due for an upgrade soon). Others are fashioned from quarried stone — a handworked vibe that brings visitors back to the park’s 19th-century origins. My favorites are simply single-track dirt. When they’re relatively flat, you can almost imagine you’re following deer paths cutting across the slopes. Where these paths angle up or down, they’re reinforced by wood-plank stairs. (Some of them deteriorate from erosion and winter storms, so tread carefully.)
Around the south side, with vistas of Twin Peaks, the eastern city, and all the way to the bay, the newest path addition is a sturdy and sensible wooden boardwalk and connecting stairways, the aesthetic more 1990s national park than 19th-century handicraft.
Wander these paths, follow their serendipitous intersections, and you’ll be rewarded with a sudden view through the trees, or a massive felled eucalyptus worn smooth by climbers, or, well, another amazing view. (Or an encampment in the bushes. It’s still San Francisco.) Or, as happened to me a few years ago, you might meet a resident coyote. As with many of SF’s green spaces, the skinny canines occasionally show themselves during the day. Don’t approach them, and it’s best to keep your dogs and small children close.
The asphalt paths are more workaday, but don’t sleep on them, literally and figuratively. As you follow along, keep your mind, or at least your eyes, in their gutters. They’re crafted from a multihued mosaic of rocks that include gravestones salvaged from city cemeteries a century ago when the unwitting residents were relocated to Colma.
The gutters are an evergreen source of fascination in the local press, but like Alcatraz, some things about this town never get old. It takes a while, but you should be able to find a few with markings that haven’t completely worn away.
Covering every inch of Buena Vista should take a good hour or two, and if you’re itching for more, head to Corona Heights. It’s only a few blocks away. (Our guide is here.) You can also add a side trip to Tank Hill if your thighs aren’t complaining too much. All the great views will surely ease the pain.
How to get there: The 6 Parnassus and 7 Haight-Noriega stop on the corner of Haight and Baker. If you want to start at the top, the 37 Corbett skirts the southeastern edge of the park. The stop at Upper Terrace and Buena Vista West puts you at the foot of the service road that slopes gently up to the summit.
What to eat or drink: Haight Street, upper and lower, has a bit of everything to eat and drink, including one of the city’s most eccentric bars, the Zam Zam, once the Persian Aub Zam Zam. (It became less eccentric after bartender/owner Bruno Mooshei shook his last martini.) You could also walk south and east to Duboce Triangle or the Castro for even more variety.
