My dad told me to know a city’s ballpark is to know a city’s soul, so as we traveled around in my youth, I came to love the friendly confines of Chicago’s Wrigley Field and the honest, hardworking, Old Style drinking heart of midwesterners, or the gritty, boisterous, Ballantine swilling soul of New Yorkers from the bleachers of old Yankee Stadium.
As I grew older and set out on my own, I learned that in addition to ballparks, early morning runs also revealed the essence of a metropolis, especially international cities. Thus, I came to know the regenerative genius of Florence as I dashed past century-old shopkeepers rinsing and sweeping their frontages clear of beautiful chalk murals and discarded sugarspun delicacies, or the vibrant merchant heart of Doha as I jogged up the Corniche, fueled by the smell of strong Turkish Coffee and the stronger whispers of those on the way to Souq Waqif.
Yet when a trip to watch the Round Rock Express and an early morning loop around the Capitol failed to reveal the true Austin, I took to the trails for a better understanding of the city. I found out that to know Austin, I needed to circumnavigate Lady Bird Lake and hike the Barton Springs Greenbelt. Similarly, to know Nashville, I had to move beyond the Brewers’ Minor League affiliate, the Sounds, and the beer-soaked Honky-Tonks of Broadway for a stroll around Radnor Lake or a hike through one of the Warner Parks. There are just some cities whose lifeblood pumps through their trails.
So on a recent trip to San Diego, I fore- went Petco Park and a run around the harbor in favor of a hike in Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve on the north end of the city. What I discovered on those winding trails of cliffs and beaches, pines and scrub was the non-anxious heart of a town of good vibes…if you could afford to live there.
In all fairness, the weather in San Diego is perpetually perfect, but even beyond the 70-degree day and 20 percent humidity, the landscape offered the optimal balance of mountains and sea. The 1200’ of elevation change from peak to wave was sufficient to get the blood pumping without turning the hike into a death march, while maritime vistas popped up every few miles, and the intervening connections provided a mix of flora and fauna that seemed perpetually in bloom and constantly on the wing.
This delightful mix of land and air simultaneously invigorated and relaxed me, and not just me, but everyone I met. San Diegans on the trail were constantly smiling, letting me pass, offering helpful advice, and genuinely enjoying themselves. There was none of the influencer entitlement at overlooks or weekend warrior aggressiveness in the parking lots.
Just look at these pictures—this city was like a detox day spa for the state of our world. It was only after dropping $60 for parking and sunscreen that I realized all of these good vibes came at a price…a very steep price.
So while I enjoyed my time in Southern California, I still think the best bang for your buck is right here in the heart of Texas. If you don’t believe me, check out a game at Bobcat Ballpark, a run along the San Marcos River, or a hike in Purgatory Creek.
