Beauty and the former beast BERKELEY
Rarely does something so ugly become so beautiful. In the 1950s, this spit of land off Berkeley was a dump for municipal waste. Since then, the city’s capped the landfill to create Cesar Chavez Park, a waterfront site with bird-watching options, dog-walking delights, Irish-green vegetation and some of the best views in the East Bay.
The first tipoff that this isn’t your ordinary open space is the gas-flare station, which sticks up like a giant birthday candle neutralizing methane from 12 feet of buried garbage. It’s surrounded by copious amounts of wildlife, from fat ground squirrels munching fresh grass to fluffy birds with stunningly colored chests (there’s a shorebird preserve here).
Cesar Chavez Park itself is a vast meadow threaded with pleasant pathways, where dogs burn off energy by charging up and down rolling hills.
A trail sign lets you know this area’s called “Berkeley’s windy front porch,” and it’s no exaggeration. Gulls hover seemingly in place without so much as flapping a wing — it’s no wonder the park has regularly hosted kite-flying festivals. The relentless breeze seems to have given permanent hunches to the gnarled pines protecting the Bay path. Sometimes, the wind and low jingling of halyards from the marina’s boats is all you can hear; it’s quite zenlike.
Exploring in any direction can provide fun rewards. There’s a long pier (now closed) that, in the early 1900s, loaded cars onto ferries for people who had come over to watch Cal football games. For the kids, there’s a charmingly rustic play area, and nautically minded adults can go sea-kayaking or just walk around spotting