Our first nights in San Francisco were spent seeking shelter wherever we could find it. With limited resources, we spent our days under the relentless sun, seeking solace in public parks, only to be rudely ousted by disgruntled park staff. Under the cloak of darkness, we reveled in our freedom to explore the city, conquering rooftops one by one. Night after night, thick fog rolled in from the coast, enveloping the skyline in a heavy stillness. It provided my favorite conditions for photography. These exhilarating moments sparked an unparalleled sense of inspiration within me. It was on one of these nights that we stumbled upon a secluded building just on the outskirts of downtown, its roof offering a brief respite from the chaos of the park.

“Hey, check this out,” I called to Dave as I clambered up some metal construction scaffolding, my hands gripping the cold metal railings. As I lifted my leg over the rough brick ledge, I discovered a small space sheltered from the public eye. We settled in under a solitary AC unit nestled in the recesses of the roof, the steady hum of machinery providing white noise drowning out the cacophony of the city. As darkness set in, I gazed up at the sky, and in that moment, I swore I could see the stars among the city lights.

Every so often, a cool breeze caressed my cheeks, and strangely enough, I felt more at home here than I ever did in Kansas. Sleep didn’t come easy for me that night. The sound of Dave snoring punctured the silence, creating the inability for me to fall asleep. Instead, I poked my head out of our makeshift sanctuary and dreamt of tomorrow’s mission…

As I rested my head against the rough brick, I recounted our earlier attempt to infiltrate the tower, which had been unsuccessful but tantalizingly close. That morning, we scanned our IDs at the door and confidently made our way through the maze of a building, ignoring the misleading information obtained from other explorers. Despite our efforts, we found ourselves in a bustling mechanical room, searching for a route to the roof. Reluctantly, we decided to leave. But as we approached the exit, we found ourselves cornered by security. With little time to react, we pretended to be two bewildered employees working on the building’s HVAC systems.

Without hesitation, I boldly approached the nearest door and, to my relief, found it unlocked. We hastily slipped inside just as we heard the guard call out to us. However, our relief turned to dismay as we discovered the door could only be opened from the outside, leaving us trapped within the cramped utility closet. After what felt like an eternity, we managed to pry back the latch, cautiously tiptoeing out to freedom. Exhausted and somewhat annoyed, we made our escape from the building.

It’s funny to reminisce about how near we came. Close enough that I could practically taste it; picture it: two kids from Kansas and Denver hitching a ride on a freight train for over a thousand miles, all with the singular goal of walking straight into and scaling it. The thought still makes me chuckle.

“Hey,” Dave mumbled, turning onto his side, the cold brick pressing against him and wrinkling his cheap polo. “You still awake?”

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice barely audible above the hum of the AC unit. “Just thinking about tomorrow.”

“Me too,” he admitted, propping himself up on one elbow. After bouncing some ideas off each other and consulting with our friend Felix, we pieced together a plan crazy enough that it might just work. There was no fighting this; I needed to risk everything, or I would never forgive myself.

The following morning, I woke up yielding more determination than ever. As we approached Salesforce Tower, I realized just how colossal it was. Its white walls loomed over me, sporting glass panels that reached over 1000 feet, each level accompanied by outstretching metal flaps.

This was more than a building to me; Salesforce Tower symbolized everything I wanted to prove to myself and the community who refused to support me initially. I began to feel the same emotions I felt that night in Kansas City; my eyes became sharper, almost as if a feeling deep down was luring me in. There was no fighting this; I needed to risk everything, or I would never forgive myself. I was ready to die for this spot and nothing would deter me. I was entirely serene, even if it meant exiting in handcuffs, so long as I could catch a glimpse of the view.

“Ready for round two?” Dave asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes as we stood at the tower’s base.

“More than ready,” I replied, my voice steady despite the heavy pounding of my heart. We scanned our IDs at the door, and to our surprise, we weren’t stopped despite the events that had unfolded the day before. After ditching our phony office appointment, we quickly retraced our steps, moving far more cautiously than before as we again entered the mechanical space.

Under the watchful eye of the motion-activated camera, I barred the final door, knowing all too well it wouldn’t be long before our image was uploaded, alerting the lobby staff. We chose an ulterior route, one never taken by any explorer and a path security never envisioned. Letting the roof door swing close behind us, we purposely locked ourselves on the lower part of the roof, leaving no trace of our presence. It was showtime.

We had prepared for reaching this final floor meticulously, having crafted a strategy informed by our previous mistakes, recognizing it as the final obstacle separating us from the open sky. The metal walls stretched over 100 feet with no ladder in sight, almost as if they were taunting us, akin to a caged animal. With bated breath, we began to scale the wall, listening for the door, praying no unwanted guests would rain on our parade. Carefully placing our feet in hole after hole, we quickly inched up the side of the cage, desperate to get out of sight. As we climbed higher, my biceps throbbed with lactic acid, my heart racing in my chest from both exertion and fear. Giving up was not an option, our grip on the building’s surface mirroring an ant clinging on for dear life.