Darn! I should have got there earlier. Hawk Hill is the San Francisco version of Ontario's Hawk Cliff or Minnesota's Hawk Ridge. I arrived mid-afternoon, after meandering around San Fran and down to Sausalito for lunch. Had I arrived earlier I'd have seen migrating Black Swifts and White-tailed Kites.
As it was, I still had an eye-full of various raptors that were called out: in coded short forms, Coops, Tailed, Sharpie, TV and so on. As for getting to Hawk Hill, one must cross the Golden Gate Bridge then drive up a long, steep, winding road. The same road, I suspect, that Carl Malden in "The Streets of San Francisco" would have been speeding down when his breaks went out, way back in the '60's.
Once parked at what seems like the highest point you could possibly reach, you must then hike through tunnels, up dirt inclines and stairways, to the very top where a team of professional and I say with affection, very geeky hawk watchers scan the skies.
I enjoyed their company and instruction on how to tell the raptors from one another, and was doing well with Red-tailed, Sharp-shinned and Kestrel, but not the others. They wrapped up at 3:30, with no further Kites coming through.
I finished my fine day of SF birding on Golden Gate Park and now sit in yet another airport lounge awaiting yet another delayed flight. Tomorrow I bird Madera Canyon and other Arizona Hot spots and shall finally pass 500 for the year. I wonder what number 500 will be? Elegant Trongon, Magnificent Hummingbird? Or perhaps the legendary Montezuma Quail.
Some photos from today: