Keep SF weird
A heart-shaped hole on Ocean Beach
At least it wasn’t a dick shaped hole, although that also would have worked for San Francisco. This was the “Hole Party.”
By Schatzie Frisch
There are only two rules at the Hole Party: The hole gets filled in, and everybody digs. I dug that.
It also sounded like a great pun opportunity for me, so I grabbed my shovel and headed off to Ocean Beach in San Francisco for Spring Hole Party 6, come rain or shine. Not knowing about this event, I needed to get the hole story. I was gonna dig deep:
Many burning questions got answered before the event on its page.
Question: What is this Hole Party’s hole shape?
Answer: Yes
Q: Can I put this on my resume?
A: You would be a fool not to.
I arrived Saturday to see two outlines of holes already drawn in the sand. A supply of shovels lay in wait, and I’m certain those tools were very excited to be put to use soon. Young new shovels, old wise shovels, tall shovels, short shovels, sharp shovels, and broken shovels; much like the diggers I was about to meet.
Organizer Anna Magruder and her “hole friends” already decided on a heart. I was so happy to dig a heart shaped hole! I could have easily been digging a giant dick shaped hole, which was discussed as an option by the “Hole Committee.” Although a giant dick would have also done well in San Francisco; there is always the future.
The heart became part of a circular stadium seating and a fire pit in the center. These two holes would then be connected by a deep trench to make for easy access between holes for people and dogs.
Creatively, this all felt like inverted sandcastles: If you dream it, they can dig it, and if you dig it, they will come. More than 1,100 people responded to the event, and the large group appropriately got their moment underneath an idyllic rainbow.
Many diggers came with shovels and without, but all were welcome. Innocent bystanders walking on the beach got digging fever. Organizers doled out digging swag: Mini shovel charms, “Dig a hole with a friend” stickers, buttons and drink koozies. Then the frenzy began. It’s pretty amazing what a group of mostly strangers with shovels can accomplish with no direction.
I did notice a 3rd hole being dug, which was appropriately dubbed the “Anarchy Hole.” I was happy to see that hole; it is San Francisco after all.
Digging a hole is a primal instinct. I bet those cavemen and cavewoman had rockin’ hole parties. It’s a great workout, too. It engages all your major muscles: quadriceps, glutes, biceps, triceps, back, and abdominals. Some diggers were covered in sweat, while other non-diggers were relaxing in the sun having a brew.
I asked Anna how the party came to be. “I have always liked to dig holes with friends.” And why not spread that joy?
“The hole brings people together,” said Catalyst, an attendee and event planner. “Everyone has one simple common goal. To dig a hole.”
Bethany — an enthusiastic old-time holer who jumped in the ocean later that evening — cited extreme satisfaction from digging, then undigging the hole and leaving no trace. Another digger, Carolina Sunshine said, “You have one life to live. You could stay home. Or dig a hole. Why are we spending this money to live in San Francisco and not have savings?”
At around 4 p.m. I stepped back to check out the hole scene. I saw more than 140 people, 12 dogs, 2 babies, 16 kids and seven senior citizens scattered about. Fathers dug alongside their sons, husbands with wives, big dogs with little dogs, enemies with friends, Baby Boomers with Gen Zers, and a lot of skaters from the Friday Night Skate scene were digging.
I met a couple single diggers looking for a love connection (Sorry dude, I could be your mother). But mostly, everywhere I turned I saw smiles, and camaraderie; I met only one asshole.
The sun began to set over the Pacific, with stormy clouds illuminated in the sky. Another Hole Party tradition? Jumping in the ocean after all that work. Apparently freezing cold temperatures did not deter our party. They ran down to the ocean and disappeared beneath the voluminous waves, only to emerge from the icy water a stronger version of themselves, no doubt.
The holes are gone, but their memory remains. Thanks Anna. May your holes bring peace and happiness to all who dig.
Schatzie Frisch is a Bay Area-based writer.
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The Hole Party happens 3 times a year, in spring, summer and fall; the next Hole Party is in August. Find Hole Party on Facebook and Instagram.
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More photos from the Hole Party by Schatzie Frisch
