At first glance, the Japanese Tea Garden nestled within Golden Gate Park seems innocent enough.

Birds frolic in its ponds. Verdant trees tower high above your head. And everything seems to be at perfect peace. At first glance, at least.

What you don’t know is that the Japanese Tea Garden is home to a disguised Sea Monster, hidden in plain sight. And even without the sea monster as a point of interest, the Garden is a wonderful place. After all, it’s oldest public Japanese garden in the US, and there is history behind every corner.

So let’s begin with the first thing you’ll see.

The Verdancy of the Main Pond

Upon entering, you have lots of options in which path you can take. You can take the pathway around the Main Pond to see the massive 5-roofed Pagoda reflecting in the water, or you can start heading toward the Torii gate. Did I mention how absolutely vibrant and lush this place is? I visited in September, which seemed to be the best time to visit San Francisco, overall.

Not only had I picked the right month, I also happened to be there on the right day, because in the distance was an awesome, mysterious white mist that surrounded the entire garden. You can see more examples of this in the photo gallery that accompanies this article (link below).

And not long after I entered, I found myself at the foot of a very strange (to the point of being somewhat wacky), bridge called:

The Taiko Bashi (Drum Bridge)

Without a doubt, the Drum Bridge, made from carefully cut strips of wood, is something you must walk over during your time at the Garden. In fact, this was commissioned, built, and blessed in Japan before it was brought over to San Francisco. To complete the bridge and the nearby Bell Gate, the builder sold the family rice fields. Only decades later was his son able to repurchase the family fields. Things really came full circle, which is synchronistic considering that the bridge forms a perfect circle when seen with its reflection in the water below.

And yes, the bridge is a bit steep, but the view is worth it.

The Buddha without a Shelter

Although you might not guess at first glance, this 10 foot tall bronze statue is over 200 years old. It was originally cast in Tajima, Japan, for the Taionji Temple; but in 1949 it was presented to the Japanese Tea Garden. And I’m thankful for this because the statue itself seems to radiate the energy of Japan to all of its surroundings.

Perhaps because it was blessed before it came to America, but it lent a welcomed energy to the Garden. Its name, “Amazarashi-No-Hotoke”, is certainly appropriate since it means “The Buddha that sits throughout the sunny and rainy weather without a shelter”.

And you know what? It didn’t even need a shelter.

The Ornate Temple Gate

I continued wandering the many vibrant paths of the garden; and when I saw this, I was instantly amazed. For the first time in weeks, I felt as though I were actually in another nation. This ornate Temple Gate, and an amazing 5-roofed Pagoda nearby, came from San Francisco’s 1915 Panama-Pacific Exposition. And despite being nearly 100 years old, they were in very good condition. The white and red-orange paint of both made them pop out against their verdant surroundings.

The Zen Garden & The Sea Monster

At last, after wandering through the Garden, admiring its many plants, statues, and bridges; I came upon the Zen Garden within. It was so immaculate and meticulously maintained that I wouldn’t have guessed that it was designed in 1953. And although landscape architect Nagao Sukurai claimed that this Zen Garden symbolizes a miniature mountain scene, I think we both see through that illusion.

Do you see the head? Do you see the green body of the creature? Surely, you see the tail rising up out of the water. These are not miniature islands and forests. Don’t let the azaleas fool you. There is more going on here than meets the eye.

I encourage you to look at a larger version of the photo in the gallery. See the triangular stone head at the left? This is a Sea Creature that has shape-shifted into bits of plant and stone. Don’t believe me? Have a closer look and come to your own conclusion.

In either case, the Japanese Tea Garden within the Golden Gate park is a lovely place to visit to relax, have some tea, and reconnect with nature. Recommended.

Stumbling Across the Twisting Trees

Having explored nearly every nook of the Garden (and my stomach beginning to rumble), I took the West Gate exit and headed toward Stow Lake.

This strange, twisting tree was something I came across as I moved west. It didn’t seem to grow up so much as it grew around and along invisible lines of force. And while it didn’t try to kill me (at least not in an obvious way), it did look menacing. Nearby the creepy tree, I also saw a group of people playing bicycle polo.

Because that’s just something they do in San Francisco.

— Bonus —

Marco the Spacefarer appears in all 27 photos in the accompanying photo gallery. If you’re new to the “Where’s Marco” game, it’s similar to “Where’s Waldo” or “I Spy”, and it’s totally fun!

Learn how to play →
Then find him in the photos! →

Coming up Next:

An incredible view of San Francisco and the bay from Twin Peaks. And then, I got to visit the little-known Sutro Baths ruins on the west side of the city, discovering some mysterious caves nearby in the process:

See what happened next →

All accompanying photos are in the Japanese Tea Garden photo gallery. With so much free, high-quality content, why not tell a friend and share this article?

Even before I stepped inside, I heard the rumbling, churning sound of the massive sheave wheels, the source of motion for all of the cable cars in San Francisco.

And although I didn’t know it at the time, I too would soon be harnessing that power as I rode a cable car westward toward Golden Gate Park. I also didn’t know about the hilarious bright-red guy… but we’ll get to that.

First, let’s explore the origin of this power: the Cable Car Museum, for within the museum is the mythical powerhouse that drives the cable car lines. And as you’ll soon realize, the Cable Car Museum is a must see. It’s free, it’s educational, and it’s a blast. Even the welcome sign has something to teach us.

A Friendly Welcome & The Sheave Room

I decided to wait until the end to checkout the Sheave Room downstairs. First, I would investigate the rumbling sound coming from deeper inside. And since the sign had introduced me to a new word, I also needed to find out what a “sheave” was. As I proceeded inward, I soon realized the source of the sound I’d been hearing.

There was a powerhouse just below me.

The Source of the Sound

Of course! The source of the sound I’d been hearing was the very source of motion for the cable cars: the winding machinery, which consists of the electric motors, the cables, and the sheaves.

I should probably clarify here. A “sheave” is a wheel with a groove for a rope to run on. When connected to an electric motor, as in the case above, a series of them can be used to power cable cars around the city. And these sheaves are constantly spinning at a leisurely 9.5 mph.

In fact, four separate cables were being routed through the cable car powerhouse below me, and a sign nearby explained that each were supported by large sheaves and hundreds of small pulleys as they moved in channels under the San Francisco streets. To move, each cable car had a grip mechanism that, when used by the gripman, would grab onto a cable running just below the street to pull the car along.

The system, while designed over 100 years ago, was nonetheless amazing.

A Tale of 22 Lines

Soon, I came across this 6 ton giant. Grip car #46 (pictured above) was part of the Sutter Street Railway in the 1870s. Apparently, during the heyday of cable cars from 1880 to 1906, nine different railroad companies operated twenty-two cable car lines throughout the city. Competition was rife, and to prevent other operators from using their tracks, each company used different track widths.

Of course, the heyday didn’t last forever, and by 1956 the tracks for the three remaining lines were absorbed into San Francisco MUNI and standardized to work together.

Whatever company grip car #46 had belonged to, it was well-preserved; and I tried to imagine this car going down the streets of a much younger San Francisco without all of its modern skyscrapers and tech company giants. Obviously, it was quite a different world back then.

A Friendly Warning from the Vigilance Committee

We need look no further than a nearby sign threatening the hanging of thieves (pictured above) as an excellent example of how society has changed. I’m not sure where this was posted originally, but I doubt it was created for the museum since it was founded in 1974.

And yet, it’s very likely that this building has contained the winding machinery powerhouse for longer than that, so perhaps it was posted in the powerhouse to prevent any lawlessness. As you know I’m not a lawyer, so if anyone could leave a comment to illuminate me as to whether or not there actually were hangings in San Francisco in the 1800s, I would appreciate your insight. 🙂

At last, the Sheave Room

Eventually, I made my way down to the sheave room which routed the cables under the street. It was quite a feat of engineering, and I found myself staring at half a dozen or so wheels as they spun with an almost hypnotizing rhythm.

What would it feel like to harness that power? I decided to head back up the stairs to street level and find out.

Hanging Out & The Friendly Gripman

After waiting a few minutes, a cable car approached, and I jumped at the opportunity. It was already pretty full, but I’d never done this before and knew this was something I had to do while the opportunity was fresh.

Somehow I found a comfortable seat on the side. Ahead, I saw the gripman use the huge grip lever to clamp onto an unseen cable below the car, and soon we were roaming up one of San Francisco’s hills with ease. As we sped along at a smooth 9.5 mph, I held onto a grip and hung out from the cable car a few feet, resembling a rhesus monkey as I snapped some photos. Below, I noticed that another cable car track ran parallel very near to the track we were on.

Soon, I realized the interesting ramification of this as another cable car passed very close by us. So close, in fact, that I had to put my backpack on over my stomach so we could pass by without bumping elbows with anyone in the other car. I’m not sure if this is a common problem, and if our car hadn’t been so packed, it wouldn’t have been such a squeeze.

Welcome to Wonderland

Seeing the city by cable car is a unique and unforgettable experience. As we headed west toward Golden Gate Park, we passed construction projects, city monuments, famous hotels, and this hilarious man in a red suit (pictured above).

Now, at the time I didn’t know anything about the Sir Francis Drake Hotel, but later I learned that they require all of their doormen to wear these hilarious “beefeater” uniforms. Apparently, they’re going for a Medieval theme… or Alice in Wonderland. Either would work. Anyway, this guy fit into his surroundings about as well as a Bengal Tiger would have.

It was magnificent.

Soon, we were near the Haight-Ashbury intersection, just a few short blocks from Golden Gate Park. I jumped off the cable car and asked the gripman what I owed him. He waved his hand and told me it was free. Perhaps he could tell I wasn’t from the city, or perhaps he’d gone over capacity and already filled some kind of quota. In either case, I was grateful for his generosity; and as I walked west along Haight Street, exotic sounds of a street performer playing a sitar floated through the air.

The wonders of the Japanese Tea Garden were just ahead.

— Bonus —

It will not surprise long time readers to hear that Marco the Spacefarer continued to follow me on that day and therefore appears in all 15 photos in the accompanying photo gallery. If you’re new to the “Where’s Marco” game, it’s similar to “Where’s Waldo” or “I Spy”, and it’s totally fun!

Learn how to play →
Then find him in the photos! →

Continue the journey

As I alluded to above, next we explore the beauty of the Japanese Tea Garden nestled within San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park and the disguised sea monster inside:

See what happened next →

All accompanying photos are in the Cable Car Museum photo gallery. With so much free, high-quality content, why not tell a friend and share this article?