San Francisco is one of the nation’s densest cities, and it’s about to get even denser if the housing boom takes hold. The city’s famed green and open spaces, more than 200, will be more important than ever.
They are gathering places for picnics and games, quiet spots for settling in with a book or simply touching grass, and better for exercise than any indoor gym.
The need for green dates back to the days after the Gold Rush. In 1870, San Francisco’s population had grown sevenfold. It was no longer just a hub for nomadic gold miners and the merchants who sold them goods. Advocates campaigned for “an urban pleasure ground,” which could have meant a lot of things, but they were thinking of outdoor green space. SF had none.
City officials looked west to the 3,000 acres of shifting sand dunes — the “Outside Lands” — at the foggy, windy coast. Plans began for a grand park modeled on those found on the East Coast, including New York City’s Central Park.
But turning sand into a rolling oasis of lakes, meadows, and especially woods required a lot of experimentation. That work happened in what’s now close to the geographic center of the city: the long, skinny Panhandle.
The history of that laboratory is hiding in plain sight. The man who ran the lab is mainly hidden from history as well. John McLaren got all the glory as the father of Golden Gate Park, but William Hall did much of the heavy lifting.
The Panhandle experiment
McLaren became the city’s superintendent of parks in 1887. But Hall was the first, in 1871. Hall’s previous job as a Corps of Engineers surveyor, learning about the science of sand dune reclamation along the coast, provided a critical skill.
Hall has no buildings, streets, lodges, or parks named for him. But he designed and developed Golden Gate Park. His multipart plan began with the Panhandle and 270 acres west of Stanyan Street. But to extend farther east into the sand, he needed to learn which trees and shrubs would take root in the formidable soil. The Panhandle became his laboratory.
Working from a new nursery and greenhouse, he used the eight-block-long sliver to plant dozens of tree species. Hall also introduced the practice of planting in large groups, the better to withstand the wind and sand. Another goal was to find trees that grew fast.
“Hall cracked the code by finding trees that could grow in that environment in the size, scale, and look that people expected and that would be the windbreak enabling other vegetation to grow,” says Marta Lindsey, author of Discovering Golden Gate Park.
In just three years, Hall planted more than 66,000 trees in the Panhandle. In the process, Hall built a dedicated nursery that produced thousands of saplings and seedlings as well. It remains on the site to this day, a few steps west of the lawn bowling greens.
A shrine to trees
Hall, and later McLaren, made a point to plant different trees from all over the globe, making a modern-day Panhandle stroll something of a global horticultural tour.
The Trees of San Francisco author Mike Sullivan says the Panhandle has more than 50 species — a “shrine to trees.”
Among his individual favorites are the New Zealand native ribbonwood or, in Maori, mānatu (Plagianthus regius) across from 1530 Fell Street near the Panhandle’s east end. It’s the only one he’s found in the city.
Near the basketball courts west of Masonic Avenue is a short line of Chinese hackberry trees, a rare deciduous tree and all the more notable, says Sullivan, in this city of evergreens. Closer to Shrader Street in the middle of an open grassy area is a red horse chestnut tree. See it now in April when its numerous red blooms are out and attracting hummingbirds.
Thanks to Hall, you don’t have to visit the Sierras to see a giant sequoia (Sequoiadendron giganteum), one of California’s two official trees. On the Oak Street side of the park, close to Cole Street, are three young specimens. “Young” is relative — they were probably planted some 120 years ago.
The trees that tower over the Panhandle are the ones that have taken so well to San Francisco’s climate: Monterey cypress (Cupressus macrocarpa), with their angled flattened tops, and of course eucalyptus, mostly the blue gum variety (Eucalyptus globulus). One near the basketball courts tilts at a 45-degree angle and looks like it’s been through some things over the decades.
These giants obscure an interesting and varied landscape, with most of the unusual varieties planted long ago. “I’d love to see Rec and Park revive the effort to get more tree diversity in the Panhandle,” says Sullivan.
Leaning native
The city’s plant politics have taken a nativist turn in recent years — that is, toward native species and away from the eucalyptus, scotch broom, and other non-natives that provide so much green cover throughout the city. The push has also sparked fights atop Mount Sutro and elsewhere.
Native plants are important to restore and preserve parts of the city landscape. One recent example is the reboot of Golden Gate Park’s Middle Lake, where local oaks have replaced old eucalyptus.
Another restoration spot is Sunset Dunes Park, the former Great Highway, where William Hall once scoped the shoreline. Volunteers have been planting hearty dune grass (Leymus mollis) to help fight erosion.
Of course, a visit to the San Francisco Botanical Garden or Japanese Tea Garden makes clear that non-native species are also welcome in San Francisco. Even many of the city’s approved street trees come from elsewhere. For street trees, climate adaptability isn’t the only consideration; city arborists have begun to phase out some old favorites because of aggressive roots and dangerous limbs.
Climate change will alter San Francisco, from its shorelines to its canopies to its famous microclimates. How, exactly, no one is sure. But as the city figures out how to adapt, it’s easy to take inspiration from William Hall’s 150-year-old experiments. Just put on a pair of comfortable walking shoes.