the Fog Karl - Karl the Fog: San Franciscos most mysterious resident

Copyright 2019 by Karl the Fog.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher. Photographs on by Fred Lyon. Copyright Fred Lyon.
All rights reserved. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available. ISBN 978-1-4521-7429-7 (epub, mobi) ISBN 978-1-4521-7383-2 (hardcover) Cover Design by Lizzie Vaughan.

Design by Alma Kamal. Chronicle Books LLC
680 Second Street
San Francisco, CA 94107
www.chroniclebooks.com The coldest winter I ever spentwas a summer in San Francisco. Not Mark Twain

Hes San Franciscos built-in air conditioner, and thanks to him, everyone in the city only has one wardrobe for the entire year. He makes for some pretty wild photos, especially when he looks like a tidal wave coming over Twin Peaks. And his summer visits help the local economywhen tourists arrive in July wearing only T-shirts and shorts, they end up buying those $20 fleeces at Fishermans Wharf to stay warm. Check out his book and be your own judge. My feelings for him are still up in the air. Sutro

For thousands of years, my mom was the dark gray cloud looming above the land finger. She was chilling above Twin Peaks when the Ohlone settled here. She blocked the city from being discovered by European settlers on multiple occasions. And she suffered through the Summer of Love, when it became impossible to tell where the parties in Golden Gate Park ended and her clouds began. I grew up over Drakes Baya lovely sky community in Point Reyes, fifty miles north of San Francisco. Thanks to my protective parents, I lived a sheltered life.

Quite literally, since there was no way for us to be in the same place without them physically hovering over me. Meet the original helicopter parents. I rarely made it down to the city because I loved all the open space of the North Bay. Neighbors were far and few between, traffic was light, and I had an enormous backyard to do flips and somersaults. But in September 2006, after working thousands of years, my mom said she was retiring, and it was time for me to take over the family business. Her motto had always been Sweaty people walking up hills are counting on me.

Now it was my time to be the citys built-in air conditioner. I knew this day would eventually come (Im an only child, and fogging is a family business). What I wasnt prepared for was how much work was ahead of me. Youd think blanketing a city would be easy. Move in from the ocean, stretch as far as you can for five to twelve hours, then return home. Its the downward dog of clouds.

Yet somehow its a lot tougher than that. You have to learn how to move both fast and slowrace in from the Farallon Islands and across the Sunset, then stall at Twin Peaks like youre an N-Judah about to head underground. You have to bulk up too! I was a lean cloud and I had to put on a lot of muscle (shout out to my wellness coach, who stressed a high protein/low skyscraper diet). You need resilience (a lot of people will hate on you) and a good attitude (see previous parenthesis). But most of all, you gotta love what you do. Now that Ive got a good decade under my belt, Id love to show you some of my progress.

But first, gather around for some old family photos, shot by the great San Francisco (and San Francisco fog) photographer Fred Lyon. Mom rolling in over Noe Valley at Eighteenth Street. This mom took her kid and dog on a long walk because it was sunny, and my mom and I were like, LOL nope. And here she is fishing off the Embarcadero piers. Now thats how you engulf an entire bridge: the Golden Gate Bridge. GGB and me: best friends since 1937. I go on vacation every fall, and San Francisco suffers with horrible nights like these. Hey Cupid, you mist. Like many people in the Bay Area, I also have a long commute to downtown San Francisco. Like many people in the Bay Area, I also have a long commute to downtown San Francisco.

And I whine about the traffic just as much as you do. Every day Im in San Francisco is gray pride. The jackpot at the end of the fogbow is more me. Cole Valley is one of my favorite places to chill while I wait 1.5 hours for French toast. I highly recommend climbing Mount Tam.