Los Angeles River

Sometimes I get so excited about leaving town that I forget to explore Los Angeles. And I used to explore all the time, riding buses and rails, visiting landmarks and perusing museums. This past weekend, I finally got off my butt to ride my bike along the LA River. Yes, its true, there is a river in Los Angeles, and its true that it has a bike path that stretches all the way to the Pacific Ocean. And in true LA style, its disjointed and only beautiful in only a few select locations.
Seeing as how I live so close to downtown, I was hoping I could ride down to the river's concrete banks and glide all the way down to the blue sea. There is a stretch near Glendale that is being slowly restored with trees and muddy banks. The concrete has been removed and the good people at Friends of the Los Angeles River (FOLAR)are working hard to allow the little blue ribbon of a stream that we call a river to revert to a more natural state. Then there is a gap all around downtown that is seems to only be reserved for a) construction, b) movie filming, or c) homeless people. So I had to catch an entrance to the bike path in the forgotten city of Vernon. This was too far to ride from my place, so I hopped on the Blue Line light rail from downtown and hopped off on sketchy Slauson Boulevard. It was all potholes and signs in Spanish as I rode my bike down the Boulevard east towards the river. After about 15 minutes, I was at the Vernon Riverfront Park, which looked like it just had a makeover and was now hosting three lonely people, plus myself. There were no signs telling me off access to the river, but I soon found it and was then on my way headed south to Long Beach.
The bike path is smooth and well maintained with mile markers and signs. At all the entrances and exits to the fenced off path, I didn't see many landmarks, nor much to let you know how to get to the river. You just sort of need to know where to find it, which, again, is a very Los Angeles trademark rule: you just have to know how to get there. The first mile marker worried me because it was 36 miles. As I rode along, I realized that was for folks headed from the rivers head water, way back in Chatsworth. I had about 13 miles to get to the river's mouth. I was already sort of tired at this point and I had only just found the bike path. It was bright and hot and the cool ocean breeze was working against me as a headwind. I noticed that most people were riding inland and the closer to the ocean I got, the more bikers I passed.
The river itself had water and was flowing at all points. There were birds nearly everywhere. Small egrets and seagulls scattered about. Stretches of long green algae flowing all around. A handful of bushes and shrubs lined areas of the concrete riverbed. Then there were the tipped over shopping carts, abandoned appliances, discarded clothes and occasional trash strewn all over. It wasn't all pretty, in fact there were very few areas were it was a nice and peaceful setting. Mostly, it was bare and sterile looking, much like an empty freeway. The concrete lining seemed to be a conductor to move all the water as quickly and efficiently as possible. There was no personality to the river, there was no excitement, no gentleness, and there was definitely very little natural feeling to it. The homes that lines the river were nearly equal to the riverbed, with a tall berm separating the two. And then the homes had their back turned to the river, shunning it and ignoring it. The river indeed, looked sad and forsaken in many stretches.
I passed factories, horse stables, new parks with drought-resistant, native plants, and many freeway underpasses. I also passed a handful of homeless and/or drunk people, as well as two tents were people were clearly living. I was listening to music with my headphones, but I don't think anyone tried to talk to me or engage in any sort of conversation. I passed one family, with two kids, biking along somewhere near the 91 freeway.
After about 7 or 8 miles on the bike path, I was nearing exhaustion. It was the headwind, the heat and the lack of motivation on my part to finish this adventure that made me turn off somewhere in Long Beach. It was near Wardlow Ave and still more than five miles from the end of the path. I was ready to hop back on the Blue Line and ride to the end. I could relax in the cooled rail car and then I'd be a heck of a lot closer to MVPs. I was now on a mission to visit my favorite burger stand in Long Beach. (Yes they do have veggie burgers.) From the Blue Line stop on 5th, it was about 10 minutes to MVPs where I ordered my lunch and then collapsed into a chair. It was cooler in Long Beach and it was kinda just how I remembered it when I lived there and went to college. I sat after my lunch and relaxed.
Then I rode down to Bluff Park where you can overlook the harbor, downtown Long Beach, the port and all the boats and ships coming and going. Not a cloud in the sky, but a nice steady ocean breeze whipped through the air. It was great to sit on a bench and take in the sights and sounds. I wasn't sad that I abandoned the river and I didn't regret not making it to the end of the line. That could all wait for another day, one with cooler temperatures and more clouds. I rode down to the bike path that snaked along the white sand beach from Belmont Shore to downtown Long Beach where I hopped on the Blue Line to head back to downtown Los Angeles.
It was a random and exhausting day, but I had fun. The river seems to be a somewhat morbid fascination. I feel like it needs more attention. OK, it definitely needs more attention, its in a sorry state. I still have the romantic idea of biking all the way to the ocean.