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| Low tide at the tip of the Heron's Head "beak". I wish there was a more bike-friendly route to reach the starting point at Heron's Head Park, but the route I tried today wasn't too bad. Drop down to Golden Gate Park and onto the Panhandle; follow The Wiggle to Duboce Park and cross Duboce Ave. to Sanchez; hang a left off Sanchez to begin the long stretch down 17th Street past the Hwy. 101 underpass; zig-zag with Mississippi, Mariposa, Indiana, and 23rd to Illinois which takes you to Cargo Way, at the end of which sits the park. I missed one of my turns, but it doesn't really matter. You can always sort it out and even cut through streets that are dead ends for cars. On one such shortcut this morning I passed an official looking sign that read, "Hells Angels Parking Only." In an "autumn ramble" story by Carl Nolte in the San Francisco Chronicle, he wrote, "Moving from Minnesota Street to Tennessee is another surprise. Tennessee dead-ends into a blocked-off area called Angel Alley, where the San Francisco Hells Angels have their clubhouse." Heron's Head was pretty quiet, with just a few birds probing the mudflats, a small school group scouting along the shoreline, a couple of fishermen having no luck, and a handful of folks just out for a walk on this beautiful day. From Heron's Head I rode along the bay front to Fort Point, then headed home via the Presidio, the Richmond District, and Golden Gate Park.  The water near shore was clear and inviting, with rock weed (or bladderwrack, if you prefer) swaying with the rhythm of pulsing water.  The Canada geese were probably the most vocal birds, with the possible exception of a very melodious red-winged blackbird. I was interested to see this one hanging out on the edge of the Pier 96 roof. (Pier 96 is the gray building beyond the fisherman in the picture at the top of this post.)  A few spring wildflowers attracted insects to make the park a little more lively.  I'm pretty sure the whimbrel has caught a small clam that it pulled from the mud after struggling with it for a minute or so.  Some of the stoutness of its beak might be due to caked-on mud.  I'm guessing this cute little guy foraging in the algae is a rock sandpiper.  This is another whimbrel hanging out on the side of the heron's head opposite the mudflats. A school group was headed its way, so I kept my camera on it to wait for...  ...the inevitable escape.  Goat Junction, near the Bay Natives Nursery.  Field bordered with imprisoned flowers in redevelopment area around 20th Street.  Superbloom at 20th Street.  More superbloom....  This is just down the street from the posh RH San Francisco.  |
Red, White & Blue
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| After the red-white-and-blue, we have the green building, a Mission Rock apartment complex literally named The Verde (rhymes with merde?), with a foreground of blooming redbud trees. This building, along with the adjacent park alongside McCovey Cove, wasn't built yet the last time I biked through here. The white structure next door houses (or soon will) Visa's global headquarters. |
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| Palm tree vs. the urban jungle. |
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| Mustard and radish along the bay, with the Marin Headlands and Mt. Tamalpais in the distance. |
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| Wild radish superbloom above Fort Mason. |
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| This striped shore crab ensconsed in a bed of mussels and splashing surf at Fort Point was the only crustacean I saw all day. |
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| I hoped the paddle-boarder would catch a wave closer to shore so he'd line up under the bridge better, but low tide probably made it too hazardous. |
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