Bonus Post: Albany Bulb and a Stinky, Slimy Mess

It's been really foggy here. Wednesday the fog was especially thick. We can typically see all of downtown Oakland from our living room, and closer than that we can see the houses that line the hill across from us. When I got up Wednesday morning and looked out those windows in the living room, all I could see was white. When I walked out onto the balcony I could make out the houses on the hill, but barely. Everything seemed out of focus and the air was heavy and wet.

We were not the only ones who couldn't see a damn thing. The captain of the Cosco freighter ship truckin' through the bay didn't notice the Bay Bridge in the way until the ship crashed into it, spilling 58,000 gallons of fuel into the water. (On a side note, no damage to the bridge was reported whatsoever, so at least that's reassuring.) Perhaps you've heard the story already, it's all over the national news .

Now that I've brought that bit of regional news to your attention, forget it again. That's what I did, and that's why I ended up spending Thursday at the beach.

I was spending my morning in a funk. I got home from an appointment downtown and launched a pity party in bed with me and the laptop. I am not going to bother getting into the specifics because it's just not exciting. So thank God for my dog and my addiction to caffeine. I skipped the coffee/tea ritual during the AM so at about 1:00 my caffeine headache began to creep in. Despite my mood, the subtle throbbing in my temples told me it was time to get out of bed again. The dog told me it was time to go out and play. I decided spending my afternoon with Apollo was the best chance I had to snap out of the dumps. It was the best idea of the week.

My dog gets me out to places I would never otherwise visit. Today it was the Albany Bulb. This place used to be a dump, but like many closed land fills these days, now it's a park. A very California park, but I'll get to that. The Waterfront Trail is down the road from the entrance to Golden Gate Fields horse racing track. Once you are back there, dogs are allowed to run around off leash. My plan was to let Apollo romp around in the water for a while, encouraged by whatever drift wood I could find to toss into the surf. That was before I connected any dots between my actual life and the morning news. That boat that hit the bridge and cracked open? Well, whatdayaknow? It spilled all that fuel into that same bay that Apollo and I wanted to play in.

The spill has spread throughout the bay all the way up to Marin, and all the way over here to the East Bay. For all the news it's getting, I get the impression that it's pretty bad. And conveniently as I type this, channel 20's 9:00 news is talking all about it right now. The interview they recorded with a local dog owner and a rep from the parks department was filmed on location at none other than the Albany waterfront. Combined with some of my notes, here are some major ideas they're saying about the spill as I write:

• 17 beaches have been closed.

• Fist-sized tar balls are collecting on the beach fronts. Between my camera phone and a fear Apollo would jump in if I got too close, I didn't catch very good pictures of this. But the beach is pretty grimy and at least that's conveyed here. The entire area stinks like gasoline.
  
• They are trying to "catch up with the spill" in various ways. In Oakland they are installing "oil-grabbing" tubes along the affected boundary to prevent spreading on land.
  
• The currents/tides/winds are separating the oil and spreading it out to a large area, making clean-up extra challenging.
• As it sneaks out, more danger comes to marine life:many birds are expected to die. The oil globing up their feathers screws with their temp-control which can be deadly. When I was there, the a few dozen birds were mostly floating around just out off the coast, seemingly undisturbed. But, when any tried to fly away, they were unable to take off.
  
• SF Mayor Newsom is pissed. He claims the coast guard took too long getting the info out, thus delaying damage containment. The coast guard claims they did their job as quickly as possible.
• Things are going to start to get better Friday around 2pm when the strongest daily current runs past the Golden Gate Bridge, pulling a lot of bay water out into the Pacific with the slick with it.
• For some perspective, this spill was about 200 times smaller than the 1989 Exxon Valdez spill.
  

Still interested in the newsiness of this story? I recommend coverage on sfgate.com, the SF chronicle's site. They've got an entire gallery of pictures of the spill, along with online video feed.

Quite needless to say, Apollo and I avoided the water and what turns out to be a very boring beach in favor of the meandering trails through the old dump itself.

It took about 2 seconds to snap out of my gloomy mood. Even on a foggy, dreary day this place is overflowing with beauty in all directions. Behind us lay Albany and Berkeley and the layered freeways. The freeways function as arteries, pushing a fast-flowing stream of big rigs and priuses back and forth between the East Bay and SF. It gives a sense of vitality to otherwise grey calm. On the other side, across the water, there are impressive views of the bridges, the city and the land beyond. And on a clear day maybe my camera phone would actually be able to capture photos of the view.

I do not know that much about why things are they way they are in this park, or how they came to be, but I am researching it now. It seems that this area has long been a homeless haven as well as a dog park. From what I gather so far, local governments have come in multiple times to "clean up" the homeless "problem." It's going to take more reading for me to really get a grip on the situation, and many more visits there to see all there is to see.

The homeless in this place have consisted of the very artful over the years and the entire area is littered (literally. (literally littered.)) with pieces of art. All of the art consists of debris left behind, transformed into human expression. Despite spending a couple hours weaving in and out, up and over the twists and turns of the place, I am surprised to find out from the websites I am looking at (mindfully.org, acme.com) that I missed a lot of great things to see there. I will give you all a taste of what's there here, and if you want more you can go check it out on your own...

All over the place there are tangled messes of rebar and concrete. This stuff is usually treated as worthless refuse dangerously taking up space once it's not supporting functional structures. It's anything but worthless here.

There is graffiti all over the place. Some of it merely provides color to otherwise drab heaps of trash, some seem to be tags that I do not recognize, and others seem to be there just to be amusing.

Even generic inspirational messages have found a home among the fill.

And put downs accompanied by clever visual metaphors, too.

And no place like this would be complete without at least a little Bay-Area political sentiment.

I'll shut up for a minute and just share these pieces that seem to speak for themselves:

I wish I'd had a better camera (and better lighting) for all of these, but especially for the next few...

There are all kinds of things (water bottles, vinyl records, ribbon, and more) strung from this tree, a living mobile.

This is a little shelter. A giant stuffed Homer Simpson guards the entrance from a perch in the tree. A hammock is strung up behind him. Scattered garbage is strewn about like lawn ornaments, giving the place its own unique homey feel. The sign on the shack reads "The Hermatige Calderium. All are welcome." I could make out shelves of books inside the little room. There is quite a view on the opposite side of the hut, including SF itself, the Golden Gate Bridge, Marin and Treasure Island. No one was home when I stopped by, and I wasn't brave enough to take up the written invitation.

As we kept going, we found another shelter. This one was pre-made of concrete, but the occupants have definitely left their marks over the years. Again, no one was home. The ground around the building was covered in giant images including a huge green clover. The flag flying from the top has a faded hand-drawn image of a naked tree woman.

Having Apollo with me was a comfort. If it weren't for him, I would probably miss visiting places like this with anyone at all, let alone just myself. He was a great comfort as both company and security. I didn't come close to needing protection, but he gave me peace of mind and courage to keep poking around. The whole place was a big playground. I felt like my 10 year old self creek stomping in the woods in my neighborhood. I left the oil-slicked crabs to the seagulls while my dog and I explored the paths full of abandoned treasure. You can see it on our faces: we both left content and pleased with ourselves.