Postcard 01: The SF Wine Walk

We walked 11 miles across the city, stopping at wine bars along the way — here’s why you should do the same.

Welcome to the first official postcard! Thanks so much for subscribing. Now onto the walking and wine…

I’ve been wanting to organize a wine bar crawl for a long time now. But when an unexpectedly plan-free Saturday popped up, I couldn’t get another idea out of my mind. The concept was simple, if a little unhinged: walk across San Francisco, stopping at wine bars and getting appropriately tipsy the whole way.

Here were the only constraints: start in North Beach, where I live, and end up in the Sunset, where my best friends just bought a house. My ideal route would’ve included more of my favorite wine bars — Golden Sardine, Bar Jabroni — but they don’t open until 4 or 5 p.m. on Saturdays, which would waste prime walking hours. Any realistic route also cut out the Mission, home to several other solid spots: Buddy, Arcana, El Chato.

So I made some concessions and finally landed on the following route, with the help of my partner, Nicholas. We completed the 11-mile trek on an absolutely perfect day in May: no fog, no wind, just an endless cerulean sky and a sublime wine buzz.

A couple weeks later, a friend planned her own Wine Walk for a date but picked entirely different spots, and I loved hearing about her experience. I started asking all my friends: what would your route be? Drop yours in the comments, or on my latest post on Instagram.

In the meantime, for inspiration, here’s a run-down of what I’m dubbing the San Francisco Wine Walk.

Bodega: A High-Risk, High-Reward Start

11:45 a.m., 0.5 miles in: Despite living a 10-minute walk from Bodega and frequenting it for happy hour, I’d never mustered up the willpower to stand in line early on Saturday mornings for their famous breakfast burritos. But this was a special occasion, so we decided to risk it.

The Wine Walk gods were with us. Despite arriving at the door after their burritos have usually sold out, the cool, tattooed Bodega folks looked surprised to see anyone show up so late, took pity on us, and made us the very last one.

The steaming burrito lived up to the hype — a heavenly combination of fluffy egg, crunchy tots, melty cheese, and avocado — and the accompanying mimosa was light on a tangy passion fruit juice, an excellent complement.

Tailor’s Son: A Necessary Break From the Hills

12:50 p.m., 2 miles in: The issue with starting in North Beach is that you have to summit Russian Hill right off the bat, no warm-up. We complained about the delicious burrito now sloshing around in our stomachs, but the payoff was worth it as we crested Union and Hyde, the Bay shimmering in the midday sun below us.

We fell in line with the Marina girlies walking down Union and turned left on Fillmore — another few blocks of vertical ascent to get under our belts. We took it quietly, diligently, until we made it to the second summit.

Soon, we were at Tailor’s Son. Though not technically a wine bar, it’s always a good option for a quick, aesthetically pleasing pit stop. We sat outside, people-watching like we were in Paris. I ordered a crisp rosé; Nicholas, a little bolder and a little less into wine, went with an espresso martini. We downed the drinks quickly, reminding ourselves of our purpose, and were on our way.

Woods Lowside: The Refueling Station

1:55 p.m., 4 miles in: Next, we took Fillmore all the way to Lower Haight, one of my favorite neighborhoods. By now, I was feeling a little heady, a combination of the several thousand steps, midday sun, wine.

I’ve always loved the tiny Woods Beer & Wine Co. closest to me on Polk, and have been keeping tabs on their six locations across the city. At 2 p.m., Woods Lowside, one of their larger outposts, was pretty quiet, the ivy-strung back patio strong with sun. I ordered a sparkling pet nat rosé (a pilsner for Nicholas), and we shared a slice of Detroit-style Joy Ride pizza. A couple hours in, the latter was necessary; the wine was also easy drinking, a good choice for a 70-degree day.

Our friend lives nearby and met us for a glass, an unplanned and lovely addition to this stop. I realized we should’ve tapped other friends to meet us at each one.

Golden Gate Park: Simply Drink While You Walk

3:30 p.m., 7.5 miles in: The second big walking part of the day commenced after Woods. Now decently buzzed, we made it through the Panhandle and started strolling down JFK, everything around us green and blooming, electric with spring.

We decided it was time to step up the drinking part of the concept. Instead of leaving the park, we knew the de Young Café would have wine to go. We popped in and picked up a couple of ciders and a half bottle of Whispering Angel rosé, then took a detour through the sculpture garden before resuming our course.

Sipping our (possibly illegal) roadies as we made it past Blue Heron Lake, Hellman Hollow, and the perpetually random bison was a highlight, for sure. The wine drunk was setting in properly now — everything seemed so sparkly, so beautiful. I didn’t even mind the 20,000 steps wearing down my feet.

Palm City: The Promised Land

5:45 p.m., 11 miles in: Finally, descending that last bit of Golden Gate Park, we could see the Pacific on the horizon and knew we’d nearly made it. Before heading toward our final destination, we took off our sweaty sneakers, cresting the dunes and crossing Ocean Beach to the water.

As my toes kissed the freezing froth, gratitude welled up in me, spilling out like the tiny split bottle of prosecco we popped into the ocean. Eleven miles and several glasses of wine deep, the moment was full of triumph, elation.

We put our shoes back on and walked just a half mile down the Great Highway and then into the Sunset, reaching breezy Palm City, the neighborhood’s popular wine and sandwich spot. We ordered lots of water, a substantial hoagie, and a final glass of wine to toast with. We were sad it was over, and our friends put up with our tipsy recounting of the day.

When the sun started sliding toward the Pacific, tingeing the clear sky eggplant purple, we Waymoed (yes, Waymoed) back to our starting point — legs tired, shoulders burned, heart and stomach full. Head buzzing. Saying out loud, over and over, that was a great way to spend a Saturday in San Francisco.

Sending love from SF,

Lena

P.S. just a few more things:

• Wine bar I’m apologizing to: Waystone. It’s my neighborhood wine bar, and the owner, Tom, and his crew are great. It wasn’t a stop on this particular Wine Walk route, but it should be on yours.

• Sneakers I’m wearing for Wine Walks: I’ll shamelessly brag — I was an early adopter of the New Balance 9060s, and they were the pair I wore for our Wine Walk. They’re comfy, durable, and look cool trekking across the city.

• Slack status I’m setting: OOO. I’m heading off on a two-week vacation in Gothenburg and the Dolomites with my two best friends from college. Next postcard will arrive once I’m back!