Labyrinth Picnic

lately i’ve been reading lucy lippard’s Overlay, which i became aware of through the jb blunk monograph i picked up. as a result i’ve been thinking about art in the landscape. blunk was well-known for his use of natural materials and universal, “primitive” symbolism, so his love of lippard’s book is no surprise. i’m usually of the opinion that the landscape itself is art, but i think my definition of art is shifting. my interest in this moment lies with human-made monuments, meant to relay something otherwise incommunicable.

without doing any research, the closest thing to a monument i could think of locally was a rock labyrinth i visited with my dear friend recently. it sits on a cliff in the headlands. my friend is a much more experienced cyclist so i thought a pilgrimage back would be a great opportunity to kill a couple birds with one stone: i get to practice riding on some more technical terrain than i’m used to alone, and i get to view some cool art more intentionally.

with all that in mind i threw together some lunch, grabbed a camping chair, my nice camera, and let some air out of my tires. i cruised through the presidio to the bridge and worked halfway up hawk hill to the trailhead. the basket loaded up with a couple of things definitely made a difference in how the bike rode, so i was a bit nervous for the loose gravel sections on the downhill to the headlands. thankfully i didn’t see any of the forewarned men or equipment working.

my bike did drift a bit on some segments but never too badly. i paused to let some horses go past. they looked lovely with their hair braided. further down i slid out to avoid rolling over some lizards mid-fuck, but looked back to find them in the same place stock-still.

down into the valley the landscape opens up like a painting.

it was there that i saw this mass of organic matter covered by a sheet of white plastic.

i’m still not sure about its purpose, if maybe it’s to help what’s underneath decompose or stay damp or something, but it was a striking presence in the landscape. i mused about this being the monumental art i’ve been seeking. perhaps the mound is more of a “land readymade.” suddenly another appeared to me.

from the masses of matter i rode to the battery townsley looney toons cannon and knew i was close to my destination, having traveled around 12 miles from home and about a thousand feet high. the hills were green and animals were plenty. pipevine swallowtails were fluttering around all over the trails.

i finally descended on the labyrinth and sat down to eat and relax a bit in my chair.

an eerie feeling sunk in. a pang of longing for something older and more megalithic washed over me as i looked at the small stones arranged in patterns. i took my nice camera out to snap a few photos and it immediately died,　perhaps in a symbolic sort of way. would this monument persist a hundred years? would it stand even fifty?

the sight of the water and the rock formations and the city in the distance made the labyrinth seem extremely insignificant. what was i doing here? looking for looking’s sake?

after eating lunch i did walk the path, which took a bit longer than expected, and at the center i was greeted with a few sweet mementos but also trash. i felt a bit sick seeing memorial stones and general litter heaped up together on such a special overlook. not exactly the transporting experience i had hoped for. i packed my stuff back up and headed home, more motivated than ever to see something truly ancient.

on the way back to the bottom of the hill you pass by what may have been an old bus stop. on the topic of old things, i wonder when, if ever, a bus came through the headlands, and what a glorious route that would be.

and at the bottom of the hill i prepared myself for the technical uphill, which was hard but not as hard as last time. i’ve been feeling stronger than i’ve ever felt in my life and trying to keep the ball rolling. reflecting, i thought those giant, toxic-seeming, impermanent mounds of something felt more like art or sculpture or monuments than any hike-friendly picnic spot.

David Briggs, 2014

this outing did inspire some research though. as far as local ancient monuments go, the tomales point stone lines are the obvious pick for sarah and i to visit next. their provenance eludes scientists and historians and they’re big as fuck. a wicked hike is definitely in the cards for us next time. i’ll be sure to charge the camera.