All images by ©IBIT/G. Gross. All rights reserved.
There are things you don’t expect to find in the middle of a city. One is a saltwater lake. The other is a squadron of llamas.
IBIT’s very own Aviation Queen, aka Benét Wilson, also happens to be an East Bay homegirl who still loves the city of her youth — and mine.
Oakland. Yes, that Oakland, on the other side of the bay from San Francisco.
If all you know about Oakland is its professional sports teams and its reputation for crime, then you really don’t know Oakland. Benét does, and she shares some of that knowledge with you on her blog. I highly recommend it.
This working folks’ city holds a lot of unexpected gems, not the least of which is Lake Merritt.
Lots of cities have lakes in their midst. How many of them are saltwater lakes? Lake Merritt is a V-shaped tidal lagoon fed by the Alameda Estuary and San Francisco Bay — although so much has been built up between the lake and its water source — neighborhoods, industry, freeways, railroads — that you’d have a hard time telling that its connected to anything.
As a kid, I used to ride my bike around this lake, fantasizing about having my own apartment overlooking Lakeshore Avenue. If you want to make that dream a reality at today’s prices, plan on paying as much as $1.25 million.
But you don’t have to live on the lake to love it. You can walk, jog, bike its circumference, and treat yourself to some lovely views of the Oakland skyline and the hills beyond in the doing. By night, a multi-colored “Necklace of Lights” decorates the lake year-round.
Work is underway to fully re-connect the lake to San Francisco Bay. When it’s done, you’ll be able to jog, bike or kayak between the two. Pretty cool.
If you happen to be around the lake on the right weekend afternoon, as I was back in April, you will run into something truly unexpected — namely a close encounter with George Caldwell…and his llamas.
At the northeast end of the lake, there’s a small park, just big enough accommodate a children’s playground and an ad hoc football or soccer game.
It’s also where Caldwell periodically brings some of his llamas after leading wilderness hikes with the animals in Redwood Regional Park — another of those unexpected gems you’ll find in Oakland.
It’s in that little park by the lake, though, where these incredibly mellow pack animals turn into superstars. George (that’s him in the sky-blue shirt, the floppy hat and the white Santa Claus beard) and a couple of his assistants just stand there in the park with them. They patiently answer your questions about llamas, let you hand-feed them, pose for pics with them, hold their ropes while they talk to other passersby.
The llamas? They handle it all like rock stars. Even the 4-year-olds who hold their ropes and the toddlers who pet and poke at them don’t faze them in the slightest. And they have this sublimely serene, almost beatific facial expression.
“Yes, we know we’re adorable. No need to make a big thing out of it,” it seems to say. “Don’t fight it, just work us here, aiiight? And you do know that George is holding a big plastic jar of our feed, don’t you? Huh, huh?”
After a few minutes, you’re not sure if they’re eating out of your hand, or you’re eating out of theirs. And they don’t even have hands.
“People think they’re skittish around people, (that) they spit at you and all that, and it’s really not true. They’re very calm,” George told me.
“I’ve raised them since they were babies to be acclimated around people. As long as you pet ‘em around the neck and not on their backside, they’ll let you pet ‘em all day long, pretty much.”
When they’re at the lake, these guys literally stop traffic on Lakeshore Avenue. And everyone who walks over for a close encounter with George’s llamas walks away feeling good.
You come to expect the unexpected in Oakland. It’s just that, contrary to what you see on the evening news, a lot of what’s unexpected there is really beautiful.
All images by ©IBIT/G. Gross. All rights reserved.










