Perched on a boulder atop the Middle Peak of Mt. Tamalpais, I looked out to the northernmost stretches of the San Pablo Bay, glimpsed the East Peak — crowned by the fire lookout — from this never-before-seen view, spied Angel Island, Alcatraz, the Bay Bridge, the skyline of downtown San Francisco, the Headlands obscuring all but the top of the Golden Gate Bridge, Sutro Tower — like some giant fork — sticking out of the hills, the coast all the way down to Pacifica and finally out to the Pacific Ocean disappearing in a blue and white haze, and I couldn’t believe how quiet it was as I stood on the roof of the world.
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A Detour to the Roof of the World
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Perched on a boulder atop the Middle Peak of Mt. Tamalpais, I looked out to the northernmost stretches of the San Pablo Bay, glimpsed the East Peak — crowned by the fire lookout — from this never-before-seen view, spied Angel Island, Alcatraz, the Bay Bridge, the skyline of downtown San Francisco, the Headlands obscuring all but the top of the Golden Gate Bridge, Sutro Tower — like some giant fork — sticking out of the hills, the coast all the way down to Pacifica and finally out to the Pacific Ocean disappearing in a blue and white haze, and I couldn’t believe how quiet it was as I stood on the roof of the world.