Last summer I met a guy at a party, whom I instantly had a crush on. He took me out to dinner once, and we talked about everything from work to wine, to environmental issues and politics. Later in the evening, he told me some pretty unbelievable stories about trespassing into old, abandoned buildings. In particular he told me about the old naval shipyard Hunter's Point, and how it was used for radiological research back in the day. I never called him back (out of shyness I think), but I've been curious about the old military bases in the area ever since.

So as I found myself in the Dogpatch neighborhood the other day, I decided to head south to the point and investigate. I drove up on the hillside and watched the construction workers leveling the land. I parked my car and wandered down to the gate, reading all the signs about it being a restricted area. Curiously there were also signs announcing an art show.

The guard at the gate noticed me peering at the signs, so I went over to chat with him, asking him about the area. I tried to sound very casual, to let him know I was just curious, checking it out. He told me about the art studios in the point and how artists have open studios and shows on occasion. I feigned interest in the art, so he told me I could go in and check out the artists' area. He told me to get a temporary visitor pass in the first building, before continuing.

When I asked in the first building for a pass, they were a bit surprised. I was told there weren't actually any art shows going on and that I wasn't really allowed to wander around. But as I seemed pretty harmless and interested in the art, they said it would be alright for me to go down and talk to the managers in the art office and check it out.

I went and parked near the artist studio and gazed over the hillside at the old military complex. There was an old, rusty sink sitting by a fence, and an acrylic painting of flat, 2D tulips in pink and purple, sitting outside a building. I wasn't terribly impressed.

Out on the complex, I saw an adorable brick building to one side; to the other, giant warehouses with broken panes of glass, peeling paint, looking old and tired. Once forbidding, now they seemed blank and waiting to be demolished. Yet rather than feeling creepy, the place seemed to have a sense of peace, to have absorbed its history comfortably. Perhaps it was just the nice weather that gave me a quiet, meditative feeling.

I walked down some steps, and began to wander. If anyone approached me, I would say I'd walked down from the art complex. I had more a desire to explore and escape notice, than for confrontation. I liked the elicit feeling that I was wandering without permission...but had no wish to get in trouble!

There were fences all around many of the buildings, claiming the area was radioactive. Low fences, easy to climb, but since it was broad daylight I had no intention of doing so. Also I value my organs and do not wish to contract cancer.

A siren screamed behind me. I whirled around, but it was just a fire truck headed south. He zoomed past and two minutes later, zoomed back the other direction with 10 motorcycle cops behind him. I felt a bit nervous but they didn't turn their heads to me. A few trucks past, and there were signs of workers and life, though in general it was quiet. I wasn't approached or much noticed at all, even when I passed a building with a construction worker inside. Nor was I noticed at the end of the road where some electricity guys and cops were loitering, beside a building full of cop cars and bomb squad trucks. The people there were plainclothed or in construction gear and didn't seem to mind me.

I regretted that I didn't have my good camera on me, but managed to snap a few pictures with my cell phone.

When I got back to the art studios I went inside to ask about which areas were restricted and whether I could get permission to photograph the area. I expected that with the studios right there, it might be acceptable. Surely the artists who worked there wandered around there on occasion and had a working relationship with the military complex.

The manager seemed a bit suspicious of me that I had just wandered inside, but answered my questions about the area kindly. She said the area was restricted by the military, and all the roads below the art houses were off limits. There was no way I could get a permit, she said. So, I drove away, feeling as if I had gotten away with something, even though I had fully been allowed to do it. Technically, I guess I was trespassing!