Adventure No. 4: Elysian Park & Angels Point

Elysian Park doesn’t need too much of an introduction. It’s the oldest – and
second largest – park in Los Angeles. Should be enough, right?

Practically everybody and their mother from the valleys of San Gabriel and
San Fernando has graced these grounds. It has a lot of history – and a lot of
controversy, due to the uprooting of communities for a baseball stadium and a
freeway.

Folks still seem to be somewhat divided on this hillside haven. If you want a
giggle, then Google the Elysian Park Yelp page. There are tales of forgotten
restrooms, prowling prowlers, graffiti, used condoms, and generally shady
debauchery. Then, there are reviews that are all smiles and rainbows. Hiking
trails, scenic views, and walking the dog on a Sunday; the hidden gem of Los
Angeles.

A few years back, before we were residents and parents living in the City of
Angels, we went to Elysian for a kind of hippie hoedown with friends involving
guitars, tambourines, and a peace pipe. The logistics remain unclear, and so
do my recollections. Hence, the park was a foggy memory that needed to be
revisited.

Elysian is pretty massive in size and there’s quite a bit to take in, so with
this entry we’ll be focusing on Angels Point: a very apt name for a beautiful
overlook.

How it went:

Riv and I have been marooned of late due to a couple of unexpected curveballs
thrown our way.

The first: a tale as old as time, car problems, something that rears its not-so-
funny head a few times a year.

And second: it’s been the hottest summer in recorded history. You don’t just
drive your four month old around in a death trap when it’s 108 degrees outside!
So, it was a waiting game. Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait long, because
we’ve been a very good family this year – and a good family gets a new ride! A
Jeep!

The day we went was fairly clear. Partial blue skies with a bit of haze. It was
hot in the early afternoon, but it started cooling off when a sweet pre-fall
breeze came blowing through town. Just had to get Riv suited up for adventure
time.

She’s been really maturing lately. When I get home from work, she always
seems a little different. It’s a trip to watch, day by day.

Here’s an example: Since it’s been so hot, we’ll just have her in her chonies
until it’s time to go out. Whenever she sees me with her clothes for getting
dressed, she starts cracking up. She correlates that with going out. Either that,
or I’m going crazy. Which could easily be true.

Once River was dressed and fed, we hopped in our new-to-us Jeep and headed
for the hills. Taking streets of course. Freeways in the afternoon are a definite
no-go.

We come from the Highland Park area, so we took Fletcher to Riverside to
Stadium Way to Angels Point Road to the top of the hill through a quick and
winding canyon drive. At the top of the hill is Angels Point. Plenty of parking!

I got River in her Baby Bjorn and we walked down a dirt path to the first thing
we saw, which was a public art sculpture that also acts as a gazebo. Beauty
was not in the eye of this beholder. If you’ve seen the movie Toys starring
Robin Williams and love the art direction/set design, and then you get a bunch
of gangsters to tag all over it, then this is your bag. It’s a bit out of place. But,
what you can get from this vista is an amazing view of downtown Los Angeles,
Hollywood, Koreatown, and, in the distant eastern haze, the San Gabriel
Mountains.

We took it in for a bit. You could hear mariachi music coming from down in the
canyons, but no real buzz from the city. Peaceful … until some hombre came
out from the bushes puffin’ smoke. It didn’t really bother me, but we took it as
our cue to continue our journey.

Down below the art structure is a small park with about 20 picnic tables and
matching trashcans. There were some sweethearts at a table getting an early
supper, and down at the end, in the grass, was a woman sprawled out on a
Mexican blanket catching some z’s. It was quiet, but not eerie.

Over by the sleeping woman you could get a great view of Dodger Stadium and
what was once Chavez Ravine.

Adjacent to this grassy eating sanctuary was some kind of desert garden-
esque walking path area. It was neat. No one was using it. We took a stroll.
Eucalyptus trees were overhead. There were a couple of Porta-Potties off
to the side, but they were out of the way and didn’t detract from the super
California vibes we were getting.

Between the Toys gazebo and the eating area was a dusty down hill trail … we
ventured further.

The trail was short and winding. California shrubs tangled along the slopes, and
wafts of sage picked up on dusty gusts channeling through the canyons.

The trail spits you out into a mini park on the corner of Academy Road, a
block down from the Police Academy, and 100 feet across the street from the
Dodger Stadium parking lot. The mini park has a climbing apparatus, a slide,
benches, a picnic table, and a trashcan. It’s very well kept, cut grass and all.
Aesthetically, it looks a bit like something out of the 1980s suburbs.

No one was around. There were no cars or cadets making their way down
Academy Road. It was mellow, but we were hot and sweaty from our hillside
escapades and it was time to get back to the Jeep and head home before the
witching hour.

Pro and Cons:

We’d go back again for sure. It was a nice exercise with plenty to look at for
my little muñeca. It’s also a great L.A. experience because of its unique mix
of southern California chaparral and raw urban undertones. There were picnic
tables for eats, grass for blankets, benches for the sitting, trashcans for dirty
diapers – and if you couldn’t wait, Porta-Potties for you know what.

Sure, we saw Bob Marley Reincarnate coming out of the bushes, and, yes, there
was maybe a little too much “street art” here and there (even some on Mother
Nature), but what do you expect? Yosemite?

If you’re looking for your tiptoe through the daffodils to be scored by the
Mormon Tabernacle Choir, then this is not your trip. But if you’re willing to get
a little down and dirty while scoring on some surreal vista, then it just might
be your spot.

Good Luck and Peace

Adventure No. 3: The Los Angeles River

Everybody loves the Los Angeles River. Well, maybe not everyone—but many
people do, and if they don’t, then they’re missing out.

The river is for sure not L.A.’s best-kept secret, but I know quite a few
Angelinos (some who have lived in this desert longer than we have) who have
never gone down to its waters. Blasphemy, I say. Blasphemy!

The river is on my “Top Five Favorite Things About L.A. with a Bullet” list.
River (my daughter) and I cruise down there a few times a week. Sometimes, a
couple times a day. No kidding.

Look up the L.A. River online and you’ll find so much information your cup may
well runneth over. But if you’re seeking some quick meat-and-potatoes-style
info, then check out the ever-helpful Wikipedia, lariver.org, or the Friends of
the Los Angeles River page—an organization that has been holding the torch of
appreciation since 1986. Those people love, love, love the river and do regular
cleanups so we can all enjoy it.

A river in this city is an ironic juxtaposition of sorts, and I was reminded of
this when one of our Facebook compadres posted a paraphrased Louis C.K.
joke, which I’m about to paraphrase even further. It was something like: When
someone lives in the city and they see a deer they say, “How precious and
sacred,” but when you live in the country you’re like, “Oh, great. It’s the
hooved rats again!”

Funny, right? There is some strong truth to it, too—but mostly it just drives
home the point that sometimes when you live in a city you forget about nature,
and sometimes when you live in nature, you take it for granted. For those of us
who live in the City of Los Angeles, the river is a way to stay in touch with the
natural world, and to remember that we’re a part of it.

I like to close my eyes and picture what was there before the skyscrapers and
highways. I marvel at these modern feats of ingenuity, of course, but I like
to dream of what it must have been like to stumble upon an untouched Los
Angeles. I’m assuming it would have been magical.

The Los Angles River begins in the San Fernando Valley and lets out, at its
mouth, in Long Beach. Our adventure, however, takes place along the section
of riverbank between Rattlesnake Park and Marsh Park, a little jaunt with stops
along the way.

How it went:

A four-day weekend! It’s nice when you get that rare three-day weekend … but
a four-day weekend? It’s like striking gold. Thank you, God, LAUSD, and Labor
Day! We’ve been getting burned-out so easily these days between taking care
of baby, going to work, taking care of baby, and then barely getting any sleep
(all you parents know what’s up), so this four-day weekend was a much-needed
sabbatical.

Better still, Tania and I both had Labor Day off. Huzzah! Sometimes it feels
like we’re ships passing in the night, but this Labor Day we were docked and on
shore leave together.

It took us awhile to get going. (Side note: when one is not used to having time
off, one can stay on the couch all day watching Lethal Weapon 4 and having a
fat fest.) But finally, round sunset, we had a thought bubble of blue herons and
ducks floating downstream. A River with River stroll! Off we went, down to the
river by street in our little Saturn Twin Cam. It was a fresh, blue-sky day, and
the San Gabriel Mountains were vivid.

 We like to park by the Fletcher Drive Bridge on Ripple Street. There are
nearly always spots there, but if you can’t find one, there’s a little parking
lot adjacent to the street that’s good, too. We got Riv in her Baby Bjorn, and
walked down to the path.

When you walk down from Ripple it’ll spit you out onto the west bank. We
walked with the flow. Bikers whizzed by, but there were also couples of all
ages taking that dusky stroll. First stop was Rattlesnake Park—not a very
welcoming-sounding destination, but all the same, a sweet location with some
benches and a trash can. Pretty well kept. Not the Garden of Eden, but a calm
spot to people-watch, and, of course, river-watch.

Our thought bubble became a reality. Blue herons craned upward against
the current-like statues, mama ducks and their ducklings scurried about with
places to go, and cars crossed the bridge above, making a sound of rushing
wind combined with wobbly bridge suspension noises. The music of the river
and the city. Our River was wide-eyed and loving it.

We walked on. Between Rattlesnake Park and Marsh Park, it’s mostly just path.
This gives you a great opportunity to observe the living and thriving ecosystem
that is the Los Angeles River—instead of driving by it on the freeway and
going, “What in the hell is that? Hobo Jungle?”

Down on the banks were some tatted up cholos, fishing. They had lawn chairs
and beers going. I inquired down towards the water, “You catch anything?”
One of the dudes pulled a pretty big fish out of his bucket. It was big from 20
yards away. We gave them the thumbs up. These are the moments we love.

We kept on rolling. There are a couple of workout/exercise spots along the
path that could be really cool for those of you out there with the older kiddos.
But for us, it would be a production with our little senorita. Just a bit further
down from the workout stations is Marsh Park in the Elysian Valley. Mostly an
open space of grassy lawn, tiny rolling slopes, and a playground consisting of
climbing toys that resemble giant animals, i.e., a rattlesnake, a toad, etc.
There are some benches and trashcans. It’s small.

I would definitely recommend checking this place out. Bring a blanket and
some snacks. No one was there when we went. So mellow and kid friendly,
with exception of there not being other children present for the congregating.
They say Elysian Valley is one of the safer neighborhoods in L.A., next to
Brentwood. Seemed to be true for us.

The sun was sinking behind the power lines and leaving the sky with trails of
gold and pink. River was still pumped and ready to keep the party going, but
her sleep schedule was calling. Time to go.

Pros and cons:

I probably can’t gush enough about this little strip of solace. It’s given me
and mine such peace of mind on those days where peace of mind was much
needed. It seems to be safe and child-friendly, and out of the fifty times we’ve
gone there we’ve never felt threatened, though at dark walking next to any
river could be questionable.

If I had to find something to pick at, it would be that the bikers on the path
act as if they own the road. Meaning, some are courteous, but some act a bit
entitled. Just keep your eyes open and it won’t be a big deal.

This is isn’t Chuck E. Cheese’s or the mall. It’s not American Conventional
Family Fun. There’s not much for the kids to touch, but there’s plenty for them
to observe and learn about. Go for a walk, a bike ride, or a sit.

It’s worth it a thousand times over.

Peace and Good Luck.