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Thursday dawned cool and sunny. Perfect SF weather. A day in the city had reset my directional compass. Armed with a three-day Metro pass and a transit map, the transportation system was at my command. With my Eyewitness (DK) San Francisco Travel Guide (absolutely the best travel guides out there) and my Barbary Coast map in hand, I was ready to rock. I took the trolley down Mission St to my jumping off point at the old U. S. Mint on Fifth and Mission. 
Built in 1874 in the Beaux Arts style, the old mint was one of the few buildings to survive the 1906 earthquake. It served as a mint until 1937 and then as a museum until 1994. Now the Granite Lady stands unused, its future uncertain. Although I love old historic buildings, I am mindful that they must continue to function economically or eventually they face the wreckers ball–such is the nature of the urban condition.
Leaving the mint, I made my way west to Union Square then skirted the edge of Chinatown before reaching my next destination: Portsmouth Square.
The Spanish laid out Portsmouth Square early in the town’s history. Until the 1850s, it lay about a block up the hill, up a steep hill, from the water’s edge of Yerba Buena Cove. The cove was filled in long ago and now the square looks out at the city’s downtown financial towers. The Spaniards have long vacated the square; now it teems with Chinese. I saw scores of children played on the swings, guarded by grandmothers and grandfathers. Nearby men played games, practiced martial arts, and smoked while women chatted, with ever an eye on their wards. It was a vibrant scene.
Descending the square, I came to Montgomery Street, which used to be the old water’s edge. Named after the captain of the USS Portsmouth who sailed into the Yerba Buena Cove in 1846 and ran a U. S. flag up in the aforesaid square, Montgomery Street is now the gateway to downtown SF. The Transamerica Pyramid, one of the most recognizable symbols of the city, dominates the Montgomery Block. An imposing (though not universally esteemed) building, it was its surroundings that I gravitated to. Wrapped around three-quarters of the base of the Pyramid stands a small Redwood Park. The trees provide a bucolic setting in the heart of this whirlwind forest of commerce. The park contains some charming statuary (including “Bummer and Lazarus:” two legendary dogs that roamed the city in the 1850s) and places to sit and watch SF go by. Such a lovely park in the middle of this pell-mell city.
(Click below to see a google map of the park: I hope!)
About two blocks west of the Pyramid lay Jackson Square, home to some of the oldest structures in SF. I’m not sure why it is called a square, although it did have some trees lining the old street corners. Walking down the block, my eyes were snared by some amazing maps in the window of a gallery housed in one of the old brick buildings. I decided to enter. The Arader Gallery displayed very high quality prints as well as a few superb original paintings. A huge Albert Bierstadt painting of Mount Rainer was, at $3.5 million, the highest priced piece of private art that I’ve ever stood before; it really should be in a museum. 
The gallery Assistant told me that the shop across the street contained beams that were made from masts of old abandoned Gold Rush ships. I had to go look.
While the masts were interesting, the most charming aspect of the journey was the director of the gallery. Greta was delightful. She shared a love of history and art. An avid skier, she told about her favorite ski resorts and runs including Granite Chief at Lake Tahoe. Alas, I took no photos that day.
I grabbed some lunch at a forgettable shop near the Pyramid and decided to tour North Beach. I soon happened on a bicycle shop. It being a fine day, I decided to rent one. While walking has its charms, one can take in a lot more of a huge city like San Francisco on a bicycle. I wheeled down to Fisherman’s Warf, then west along the Bay Shore until I started the climb up to the Presidio. All the while, I could feel Charles the Great and Joan of Arc beckoning me.
The steep climb from the Bay Shore to the heights overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge quickly blew out my legs. I got a little lost, despite my map, but eventually I made my way to Lincoln Park. There, in a beautiful setting overlooking the bay, flanked by statues of the great French hero Charlemagne and heroine Jeanne d’Arc, stood the Palace of the Legion of Honor. Home to some excellent European artwork from the 15th through the 19th century, it boasts a fantastic Rembrandt. 
I felt a little foolish walking around drenched in sweat in my shorts, but looking like a fool has seldom daunted me.
After the museum trip I made my way over to Golden Gate Park. While there, I began to have some technical issues with the bike and I soon decided to return the shop. After the strenuous journey out, I WAS daunted by the trip back. What I failed to realize was that the journey out was mostly uphill. After walking up one short but extremely steep hill, the rest of the ride back to the bike shop was a breeze.
After dropping my bike off, I boarded the Powell & Hyde St. Cable Car. Now for years I visited SF and never took the cable car. “What do you want to do that for?” my friend Mikey would sneer, “That’s just for tourists.” Suddenly one day I embraced my tourist persona and jumped on board. I’ve never regretted it. The Powell & Hyde St. cable car took me from North Beach, up and down some really steep hills and through the downtown area. It is a great way to see the sights and meet fellow travelers. I met some Swedes and got to impress them with my knowledge of Stockholm and the Vanska Ship/Museum. The cable car can be also be a really good way to get from here to there. And there was where I was going.
One more transfer and I was on the trolley going up Mission Street. Soon I was back in my hotel. The next day would be transfer day.
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Neil Trembley's Missives 
Nice writing, Neil. I enjoyed it. Thanks. Dick Lundy
Comment by Richard Lundy April 10, 2010 @ 2:41 amThanks.
Snow’s gone here. Coming back this way soon?
Comment by ntrembley April 10, 2010 @ 12:45 pmFun stuff Neil! Brings back memories of our hunt for something Russian in the Russian Hills area back in the summer of 1973.
Comment by Bunkie Joe April 12, 2010 @ 2:45 pmI was thinking about the first time I ever went out to SF. Mike and Linda were living in that house close enough to the ocean that the fog just about burn off about noon right over their house and then it would roll on back in. I think that was the summer of 1971, but I might be mistaken. I think you were out there then too, yes?
Comment by ntrembley April 13, 2010 @ 8:08 pm