It was Mark Twain who said The coldest winter I ever spent was a Summer in San Francisco, who undoubtedly had experience of those 35 degree fogs rolling in around 5:30 pm and not lifting until noon (downtown, and perhaps not at all out in the far Richmond and Sunset). One of the funniest things in the great Summer of Love (1967) was all the kids who'd come from all over the country in summer clothes, with light fiberfill sleeping bags or cotton blankets enjoying a sunny afternoon in Golden Gate Park, being totally frozen and bewildered as the usual July blanket of fog rolled in.... having a nice warm place was as good as having plenty of dope and a good pick-up line.....