photo of wire mesh and post fence in foreground with sand dunes and trees in background and ocean in the distant background

Closed. Permanently.

It made me very sad when they closed off that section. That has been my hill for 20 years. My dog Seva's ashes were scattered on that hill. We would all meet there on weekends, drink coffee and let our dogs run up & down the hill. The wind did a great deal of damage to that section. More than the dogs could ever do. It is hard to explain to a dog why they can't go to a place they have gone every day to. My Gaylan stands and looks at the fence with her kong in her mouth. Then she looks at me expecting me to open up the fence so she can go up on her hill. That was her favorite spot, she would hide behind one of the little dunes and wait for maya, then they would run in circles. SAD,SAD,SAD. We had some great times on that hill, I shall miss it.    -  Lee Walker

The end of the road. Hang a left, over the rolling dunes, a quick dash down to the beach, left again and loop back along the beach, left once more and climb up to the road, turn right and head back to the car, rejuvenated. For years, a routine that was anything but. And it's history. Reality sinks in slowly -- first the posts, but no fence. Then the wire mesh, but no gates. Suddenly, a second fence, marching quickly across a valley and tearing up a majestic dune, anchored in the very sand into which it was said a fence could not be planted. Still not real, somehow -- still legal to walk through the posts where the gates are not yet in. Then, with one stretch of metal across a few feet, it's over. Step in there and get a ticket. We didn't hurt anything on that dune. Left nothing, took nothing, trampled on nothing. What about consensus, process -- what about the law that requires notice and hearings, and what about the science that would determine if the stated goals will even be achieved with the action being taken? Who decided, when and where and why, that this area was to be permanently closed, turned into a nursery into which selected people would be permitted access, to come and plant certain plants while ripping out others? Where is it written that the bank swallows need a huge setback area from the cliffs to which they keep coming back, despite (because of?) human and dog activity? And if they indeed have moved from their prior spot, a large tract of public land, then why has that region remained off limits? And why does another area remain closed, five years after being closed for replanting which never happened? And where is the proof that seasonally fencing people off yet a fourth parcel of public recreation land, any day now, is justified?    -  Michael B. Goldstein

To First Section of Fort Funston Forum