I remembered as a child family picnics in Palm Canyon below Presidio Park and running up and down the trails with my cousins or friends, the foliage forming tunnels within which we would hide and get “lost” in our imaginary adventures. Our parents never worried about us. In fact the canyon was a big natural playground which slowly sapped our energy preparing us for peaceful slumber at home later; all the while the grown-ups enjoyed the late afternoon and early evening, a glass of wine or beer, and a picnic dinner.

But as with all things, that time had passed. Instead of children running along the trails, closeted gay men now roamed looking for secret hook ups in the heavy brush and the bathroom at the canyon’s entrance. Slowly but surely, the absence of families had turned the canyon into an open air marketplace of unrestrained homosexual activity.   [Read more…]