SEATTLE - The peak had intrigued me for a while. Visible from much of Seattle, familiar yet exotic, it made me want to take a closer look. I wanted to see more than the postcard view, exploring the contours and crevices that revealed themselves only those who set foot on its flanks.

So, on a drizzly afternoon not long ago, I went hiking on Queen Anne Hill.

True, it’s right in the middle of the city. You could roll a bowling ball from the top and, barring a traffic accident, send it into downtown or Puget Sound. (Not something I recommend.)

True, it’s entirely developed, home to some of the Seattle’s ritziest homes. There are a few undeveloped slopes that are just too steep to hold up a condominium or a bungalow, but they are the exception. The rest the neighborhood is about as natural as Westlake Center mall - not exactly a wilderness escape.

Still, if you hike because you love to explore the world, urban areas like Queen Anne can surprise and delight in much the same way that Mount Rainier’s Paradise Valley does. Urban hiking brings unique challenges, such as traffic, and some unique delights. For example, you can take the bus home at the end of your trip, or whenever you’ve had enough.

But urban hiking also brings many of the same pleasures as wilderness hikes. Like backcountry trips, city hikes can be restful and relaxing. Or they can be rigorous—get up before dawn, gulp down energy bars while you walk, end the day exhausted.

Like wilderness hikes, they can be opportunities for deep, focused thinking on important questions—Do I love her? Does she love me? Should I have mixed banana chips and gummy bears in the trail mix? They’re also great opportunities for setting the mind free to wander, like a dog sniffing through the undergrowth, following whatever scent it pleases.

I had planned to do this sort of daydreaming when I set out to conquer Mt. Queen Anne in early January. It wasn’t a summit attempt—I’ve seen the posh shopping district of Queen Anne Avenue North, and I wasn’t interested. Instead, I headed for the hill’s western edge, where I would walk parallel to 15th Avenue but a few hundred feet higher, looking out across Ballard, Magnolia, and the Sound.

Like mountains (and like people, for that matter), Queen Anne Hill gets more complex the closer you get to it. What looks from a distance to be a flat slope turns out to contain a series of ridges and ravines. What looks to be a tidy grid of streets turns out to contain dead-ends and a surprising number of public stairways clinging to the hillside. (I’ve since learned there’s a map of Queen Anne stairways.)

I began near the Ballard bridge, climbing up and up on stairways and side streets. I took in the views to the west. The Olympic snowcaps hid behind a wall of clouds, but the fog only lent intrigue to the ferries and container ships slipping in and out of view in the Sound. The nearby views were great too—two-story Victorian houses, more Mission Revival-style homes than I expected, and a few boxy modernist ones.

The drizzle continued, and the winter wind had a bite to it. Most locals rushed to stay out of the cold as they carried in groceries, or carried out trash bags, or walked dogs. I zipped my rain jacket up tighter and wondered what it would be like to live with such a stunning view. Sure, people-watching in the city is nothing like spotting an elk or black bear in the wild. But it has its charms.

I pressed on to the southwest corner of the hill, where I’d heard there was some green space. Sure enough, the street ended at a mass of blackberry bushes and overgrown brush. A washed-out trail led downhill, closer to the industrial area below than I wanted to go, but the only option forward. The trail descended through a dark stand of big-leaf maples—the heart of the Southwest Queen Anne Greenbelt, I would learn later. Before long the trail flattened out, offering a broad sweep of downtown and West Seattle. A few hundred yards further and the trail petered out in an even larger tangle of thorny blackberry bushes.

The warm glow of street lights shone just beyond the bushes—if I could find a way through the bushes I knew I’d be near the elegant old apartment buildings of Olympic Way West. But first there was this obstacle. Carefully, I picked my way through the thinnest patch I could find, then climbed up a short retaining wall to avoid the worst of them. The long, flat top of the wall led me to a sidewalk, which led to Olympic Way, which led to anywhere in the city I wanted to go.

TIPS FOR URBAN HIKING

• Use common sense. With weather, with traffic, with safety.
• There’s nothing wrong with ducking into a business for a coffee, a bagel, or a restroom. But if you don’t want your hike to feel like a shopping trip, make a deliberate decision to limit these stops.
• Loops are more fun than retracing your steps. Find a different way back.
• Taking a bus home isn’t cheating. It can allow you to venture further out than you would otherwise.