The Geographic Center of San Francisco

The precise center of San Francisco is 37° 45' 16.3502” north latitude by 122° 26' 33.1594” west longitude. This matters to me because my daughter Helen’s apartment is less than two blocks away from the two-inch brass medallion embedded into a sidewalk along the 700 block of Corbett Street near Twin Peaks marking the ‘Center of the City.’

While on a walk through the city with Helen and Desiree, I made sure we stopped at the center of the city so the girls could point out the precise place. Today, I am sharing the photograph I captured there, along with a couple pictures of the city itself.

The Geographic Center of San Francisco

The City Below

A Lovely Hillside Neighborhood

—Mitchell Hegman

Point Reyes Lighthouse

The Point Reyes Lighthouse stands as a historic beacon on the rock-strewn California coast some 40 or so miles north of San Francisco. Perched atop a shoulder of rock on Point Reyes Peninsula the “light station” was built in 1870, to guide ships along the treacherous coastline. Its location, surrounded by sheer cliffs and a meandering coastline adds to its singular (if not stark) beauty.

To reach the lighthouse, you must descend (and climb again if you don’t intend to stay there forever) 313 steps. Desiree, Helen, and I navigated the steps on a particularly windblown day, making the trip all the more adventurous.

Point Reyes Lighthouse

Steps Leading Down

Desiree at the Station

—Mitchell Hegman

The Mint Bar Versus the Golden Gate Bridge

Just as you can’t drive past a Mint Bar when you find one in any town in Montana without stopping for a drink (there are 13 of them in the state), you can’t visit San Francisco without walking through Chinatown. Similarly, you must find a relatively quiet place to stand near the Golden Gate Bridge so you can gawk at it. Yesterday, Helen, Desiree, and I accomplished both of these requisite tasks while confirming something Mark Twain is alleged to have said… you know, that thing about the coldest winter he ever spent being a summer in San Francisco. With a chill wind funneling in off the ocean, we had to bundle in layers to stay warm.

Chilly or not, we had a lovely time in San Francisco. This is a beautiful city. Even driving from place to place is interesting given the hilly nature of the place and the constantly twining and veering streets.

Posted today are the requisite photographs.

A Mural in a Chinatown Alley

Lanterns in Chinatown

Golden Gate Bridge

Desiree on the Bridge

Desiree and Helen on the Bridge

—Mitchell Hegman

Muir Woods, The Cathedral of Life

Muir Woods National Monument stands as a testament to the enduring legacy of conservationist John Muir. Established in 1908, it was named after Muir, who was instrumental in the establishment of the National Park System. Situated within California's Golden Gate National Recreation Area, Muir Woods harbors one of the last remaining stands of old-growth coastal redwoods, some towering over 250 feet tall and perhaps 1,200 years old. Its creation marked an early recognition of the need to protect these majestic giants from the encroachment of logging and development. Its towering redwoods stand as silent sentinels, reminding us of the importance of stewardship and the enduring beauty of the natural world.

However, describing the redwoods as I have above does not come close to capturing the experience of standing on the forest floor amid these giant trees. Walking through Muir Woods, you feel as though you are inside a great, upright cathedral constructed of all that is life itself. The trees seem to be the very timbers holding the sky aloft. And yet, sounds within this temple remain soft and without a discernible edge. Where full sunlight reaches something in the understory, be it a drop of water or a flower, that something stands bold and precious.

I have posted a few images from deep in Muir Woods.

People on the Trail in the Woods

Desiree Among the Giants

At the Base of a Redwood

—Mitchell Hegman

Not Exactly a Road Trip

Desiree and I have embarked on a journey. I am hesitant to call it a “road trip” because in the end much of our travel will be in the form of airplane flights. Ultimately, there will be plenty of riding in cars and perhaps a boat ride or two. Posted today is a photograph of Desiree and me (happily) waiting for an order of fish and chips at the airport in Seattle.

See you at the next stop!

Waiting for Fish and Chips       

—Mitchell Hegman

In Memory

May 11th is a day that cannot pass without notice. On this day, in 2011, in the quiet hours before sunlight found us, we lost Uyen Hegman. Uyen had a ready smile and an inimitable aura of calm about her. Yesterday, I spent several minutes standing under the Mayday tree Uyen and I planted in the early 1990s. The tree teemed with blossoms and honeybees—the hum of the bees filling the air. The day ended with a fantastic display of northern lights just outside the backdoor.

Gone but not forgotten, Uyen Hegman.

Uyen, 2002

Uyen Hegman, 1987

Mayday Tree, 2024

Northern Lights             

—Mitchell Hegman

Cattle, Just Standing There

Living in Montana, you expect to find cattle milling about on both country roads and secondary highways. This is quintessential “cattle country,” with roots that run back to the great cattle drives of the 1860s. Moreover, in Montana, the number of cattle often surpasses the human population. A recent tally placed Montana's human population at around 1.1 million, while its cattle population exceeded 2.5 million. Additionally, when considering land space, Montana's vast territory provides over 93 million acres of land, much of which is suitable for cattle ranching.

Montana long ago adopted open range laws, meaning that livestock owners are not always responsible for keeping their animals off of roads or private property. As a property owner or driver, it is generally your responsibility to make provisions for excluding or avoiding livestock.

People visiting Montana for the first time are often confused or amazed when they are forced to stop because cattle have taken to standing in the road. I recall my nephew telling me about the first time his wife, who is from the Midwest, reacted when a herd of cattle brought them to a cautious crawl on a backroad. She made my nephew stop so she could take pictures.

“The cows are in the road,” she said. “They are all over the place.”

“Yep,” my nephew responded.

“They are right in the road… just standing there.”

“They’re cows. That’s what they do. They just stand there.”

This kind of thing is a challenge for folks from other places, but they adapt soon enough.

Cattle on the Highway (Havre Daily News)

—Mitchell Hegman

A Weather Event

We experienced what some folks call a “weather event” at my house yesterday. In my hometown of East Helena, Montana, we put the same thing in this manner: “it rained and snowed like a summa-bitch.”

To be precise, I captured nearly 2 inches of precipitation in my rain gauge between 10 pm Tuesday night and 9 am Wednesday morning—some 11 hours. While that might be a standard fare in in the monsoon tropics, such levels of moisture are remarkable here at the edge of the Rocky Mountain rain shadow. The city of Helena, a few miles southwest of me, receives somewhere between 11 and 14 inches of rain on an annual basis.  I am guessing I get 3 or so inches less than Helena.

So, 2 inches of rain is a pretty big deal around here.

A morning trip to Helena to get my haircut at Dundee’s Barber shop delivered me into gradually increasing levels of snow. Dundee told me her home in the mountains south caught a foot heavy, wet snow that brought down trees and electrical lines and caused a power outage.

I am sharing a few images from our “weather event.”

Rain Gauge

4:20 am Tuesday Morning

Reeder’s Village

Dundee’s Barber Shop

—Mitchell Hegman

Hung Out to Dry

The west wind grapples with a single long-sleeved shirt

hung to dry on a line, strung between two weathered posts.

Caught in a gust, the right sleeve lifts upright,

creating the visage of an invisible man in exaggerated oration,

hoping to be heard

or a drunk hailing a taxi,

his hope dwindling.

These two human conceptions strikingly the same.

—Mitchell Hegman

A Man and a Penguin

 At the end of a long day, maybe a quick story about a man and a penguin is just what we need. Today, I have posted a short video about a man who saves a dying penguin and makes a lifelong friend:

—Mitchell Hegman

Video Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6McB0jhPWqs

Things I Learned Just Yesterday

Here is a list of things I learned just yesterday:

• Clothing I wore five years ago may not necessarily fit the top half of me anymore.
• Sometimes you can outrun a sprinkler, sometimes you can’t.   
• The fact you have an opposable thumb does not always translate into successfully manipulating tools.
• Four out of five ink pens don’t work the first time around.
• Under the right conditions, chipmunks can be scary.
• Being able to read your own notes is important.

—Mitchell Hegman

The Weight of Things

As a young boy, I imagined I would one day build a castle from all the rocks I collected. Well, that never happened. But, in a sense, my collection of rocks is a fortress around me. My house is filled nearly end to end and each specimen has a memory or story attached. Some I have had with me since I was only a boy of four or five. Some I have had for less than a month. My rocks bring me comfort, security, and joy. In this way, they are a fortress of sorts.

A couple of days ago, after suffering a series of minor personal failures, I took a walk along one of the ravines at the edge of the prairie near my house. Sections of the ravine are comprised of exposed diluvium (the result of ancient floods). I plucked two small rocks from the ground there: a piece of petrified wood and a shiny hematite nodule. These are now the latest addition to my collection.

The weight of just those two small stones is easily enough to balance out the entirety of a bad day.

—Mitchell Hegman

Random Thoughts for the Day

A couple of random thoughts here:

Given our fitful weather (which includes snow falling on our May flowers), I think renaming this month “Maytember,” as suggested in recent memes, is fully appropriate.

Some lowlife blankety-blank drove down to my lakefront and tossed an empty beer can on the ground down there. I don’t have anything more to add to that.

—Mitchell Hegman

Lemon Tree Update, May 3, 2024

Desiree first urged our lemon tree to grow from seed in October of 2022. In the time since, the tree has pushed through several rapid growth spurts. In fact, the tree is just now topping out leaves on the latest and most ambitious growth spell to date.

I am particularly pleased with how healthy the tree is at present, given that I have been waging war with an outbreak of spider mites on the tree for many weeks. For the last two weeks, I have been applying twice daily treatments of soap and water. Surprisingly, my dedication to the soap and water treatments has had an impact. I have seen no evidence of mites for the last three days.

Maybe we will be seeing lemons in the future. For today, I am sharing a photograph of the new growth along with a full-on shot of the tree, and me holding a (now requisite) Cold Smoke Beer for accurate size reference.

New Growth

Lemon Tree (5-3-2024)

—Mitchell Hegman

The Confusion Smith

It is possible to confuse people simply by overplaying the commonest of things.  My friend Tim Smith often did this using his surname, a most ordinary and well-known name to be sure. When giving his name for the purposes of checking in for an appointment or a sleeping room, he would offer his name: “I’m Tim Smith.” And then, after he watched them either look for his name or begin to write it down, he would quickly spell out his last name. “That’s S-M-I-T-H.”

Invariably, the person just given his name would stop dead. “Wait?  What? Could you please spell for me again?” This pleased Tim to no end, of course. Playing cool, Timmy would slowly spell-out his name a second time. I must admit, I also enjoyed this show once I figured out the game.

—Mitchell Hegman

Morning Report, May 1, 2024

I slept in a weird cat-like position and woke this morning with my left arm feeling like my house had fallen on it. In broader news, the asparagus we started last year has emerged from the ground, Salma Hayek still stuns in a bikini, and two giant pandas will soon be sent to the San Diego Zoo from China.

Endo of morning report   

—Mitchell Hegman