The bus came by and I got on
That’s when it all began
There was Cowboy Neal
At the wheel
Of a bus to never-ever land.
Grateful Dead-Anthem of the Sun
The trip to San Francisco in the spring of 1967 was eventful, there’s no doubt about that. We bought a 1954 Plymouth Belvedere, amazingly rough and we did a little fixup with some sandpaper and primer. Unfortunately, we didn’t do any mechanical updating or even troubleshooting, and so, it got us as far as Curtin, down I-5 about 100 miles.
So, we headed for the coast, walking down the winding road, alongside the river, hitching and hoping for a ride. Three days later, and with lots of experience of riding in trucks, cars, and walking endless miles of coastal highway 101, we found ourselves set down on Van Ness Boulevard near the wharf in San Francisco. The marina was a marvelous place of tall narrow row houses, with garages built underneath, which had largely been converted to extra living space, the pastel colors seemed a pallet of bath inspired taste.
One of the first places I wanted to go was Haight Ashbury of course, so we got on a cable car, changed to a green and white electric bus and headed off. We found it a busy place, full of young people, tourists, and bikers. The cars drove down the street in an endless procession as the ‘rubber neckers’ watched the hippies and interacted as sellers of the ‘Berkeley Barb’ and other papers sold to the tourists in their cars.
Head shops, poster shops and combinations of the two took up most of the storefronts on Haight Street, between bars and older establishments of the neighborhood. What had been the Haight theatre had been redone as the ‘Straight Theatre’ and on its marquee it touted up coming acts in movie theater lettering..Charlie Musselwhite was up and coming it seemed. There had been a convergence of events bringing thousands to the area, Monterey Pops in June, some of the local bands were gaining national attention, ‘the summer of love’ was in the news as was analysis of countercultural behavior, hippies were a hot item. Ironically enough, most of the early inhabitants and the bands had begun to move to the country, to Marin or further north by the time attention truly focused on the district.
Golden Gate Park was originally designed as an urban retreat to rival New York’s Central Park, and went far beyond in some ways in its eventual execution. Known to early residents as the “outside lands”, it was carved out of sand dunes and shore. In the sixties, the park was amazing, in walking through its thousand acres, one went from Kezar stadium to the ocean and the Great American Highway, past and through hundreds of sights, sounds and intrigue. It is long and narrow, and streets run by on either side, but in the park between you could find yourself lost in all that it held. Along Frederick, Haight street fed into the entrance to the park, under a tunnel, with the stucco concrete walls of Kezar to your left, it was an ediface of amazing size, but completely unremarkable in the face it presented to the park entrance, just a blank yellowish wall.. could have been nothing on the other side at all, but of course, it was a football stadium, home to the 49’s and the Raiders at that time. Walking through the park on winding paths past what would become known as ‘hippy hill’ after the be-ins, love-ins, and happenings, the conservatory came into view on the north side of the park. 
The inside of this gorgeous greenhouse was like a jungle, full of tall tropical trees and ponds full of giant koi and carp.
The Japanese Tea gardens were stunning with arched bridges, stone and wood, pagodas and bonzai shaped plantings.
The model boats in Spreckels Lake were amazing to someone who had spent hours guiding boats down gutters on rainy days in northern Oregon. The impression I took away from the park, away from the main attributes was one of overhanging branches, benches, and people.. always a good spot for people watching, Golden Gate Park in 1967 was really ‘where it was at’. Young people from all over, beatniks and hippies, musicians, speakers and it seemed, everyone.
The journery through the park ended at the highway, and the ocean.. you could look south and see San Francisco Zoo, and north to see the Cliff House..
in between were the amusement park, and an old storefront that would be the Family Dog, a music venue in a couple of years.
Some of my fondest memories are of the panhandle, a narrow strip of park which extended east from the city end of the park, paralleling the Haight. It was here that afternoon meals were served by the Diggers, a group of avant garde actors who had a number of projects to help the flood of young people coming to the district at the time. They opened free stores, the one on Frederick was amazing, a two story building, kind of like a thrift store, except it was free, and open for donations. Eventually the Diggers would include a number of well knowns, including actor Peter Coyote, and a number of members of the San Francisco Mime Troop. They were not in reality mimes, but a guerilla troupe who performed anti-war and anti-establisment in the panhandle, around town and in the park itself. Sometimes a flatbed truck would pull up into the panhandle, and bands would play using it as a stage and power source. At the time a number of the local talent, which included, the Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, and Big Brother and the Holding Company, and others who lived in else where in town, or across the bridges, like Quicksilver Messenger Service and Country Joe and the Fish would play a set. It was great live music, in its formative stages and a great setting.
Keep on Truckin’!