a walk to the beach

written on November 20, 2023

32.4 miles

lots of green close to home

i ought to have written this a long time ago to have kept track of the thoughts, alas, the walk was more of an athletic endeavor than a walk of revelations. or not athletic, mental? or there was simply less to say about this walk because it was la, not nyc? not to be a hater, because i do love la. but la is, without a doubt, NOT a walking city (as anyone could have told you, but isn’t it more fun to definitively determine these things for oneself?)

i’d been thinking of doing this walk since i moved from the most walkable city in the us to what is perhaps the least. over the summer i saw an article about someone who’d done something similar, and i was reminded of this silly goal. so, on a summer day that was not too hot, i set out from my front door in pasadena, putting one foot in front of another until i made it to the pacific ocean.

blue skies, not a soul in sight!

this was the primary allure of the walk: to walk into the ocean. since moving to la, i’ve spent countless hours driving to the beach (too many hours, though still not enough). driving alone to the beach, listening to my favorite songs; sitting in traffic with friends, anxiously awaiting the water; soaking in the scorching sun, or staring at the fog, hoping it will dissipate once we reach the sea (it never does). the drive from pasadena is not short, causes inconvenience despite how close the ocean still is. to spend a whole day with the goal of the ocean and nothing else— what an indulgence.

the pacific ocean is where i feel most at home (well, besides when i am with my family, or when i am in a michaels or a whole foods). it is my ocean, and it is the best ocean, because it is my ocean. the ocean i grew up going to on summer weekends, tumbling into the ice-cold half moon bay waves with my brothers, numb to the cold, or protected by the warmth of childhood, jumping into wave after wave with no cares. the ocean of my ancestors across the sea! the ocean that feeds us and scares us. the ocean i still go to, diving beneath the waves, beyond the waves, til the water is smooth, and i float, ears beneath the surface, hearing nothing and everything; my mind goes blank.

on the west coast, the sun sets into the pacific ocean, and to me, there is nothing better than this.

i am hesitant to write on this blog again, to write to the ether, and to write to those who i see in the everyday. i am hesitant to write again about my walking, my ridiculous walking. what am i doing? what am i trying to prove? why must i make it a public endeavor? it makes me ponder my ego, why i feel the need to record the things of my life and to tell the people i know about the things i have done when they are oh so small oh so meaningless. there is no answer. but it feels good to write, so i will continue to write my run-on sentences into the blue.

jacaranda trees all over los angeles!

i took notes on my walk to the beach, as i used to when i walked around manhattan. it is the longest walk i have ever gone on, so there were many sights and other senses to take note of:

the majestic mountains; a qigong academy; cacti; other walkers taking advantage of the saturday morning; a plant nursery; a fish market; two yard sales; jacaranda trees, in bloom but fading; a really giant usps; a sweet family; the pasadena museum of history; overpasses, freeways, bridges; colorado street bridge; a 1973 shirt (my parents’ birth year); a woman watering rocks, hm; lowe arroyo park; newspapers in driveways; a stretch of no sidewalks; the norton house; johnston lake; a line for a sale, not sure what they were selling; a mother, a son, a dog; walked through a spiderweb; chickens on a grill; little styrofoam balls; the metro; someone waving to a bus; a bus cutting me off; a carwash fundraiser; a barber shop; solar panel shadows; someone separating cans and bottles; a man sweeping the sidewalk in front of his store; a mariachi band, i think; a man, passed out on the sidewalk, what to do, kept walking; gardeners; lincoln heights library; hair salons; someone scratching off a lottery ticket; another person passed out; the la river; a korean mega church; a man in swim trunks and an umbrella; a stopped car; billboards upon billboards; la state historic park summer camp; the main la library (i think); school buses; the street vendors of chinatown; baby turtles in baby tanks; a line for dim sum; ‘hello!’; a homeless man’s phone plugged into the underground; overgrown yellow weeds; colorful paper, torn; an embrace; late afternoon coffee shop lines; mexican food on the griddle, stuffed dough?; a mailman; a lil shuffle and a spin; a solemn stare; a cart of orange snacks; more bridges, a bridge over glendale blvd; a sheer dress worn over a thong; silver lake flea market; echo park from afar; pearls on denim; the hollywood sign!; a lil ceramic market set up outside of los globos; dates out at brunch; yard sale signs; the man who i once met while bar hopping in silver lake, who sells tchotchkes extraordinaire, said he was on american idol and sang us a song, i’ve forgotten his name; graffiti being power washed away; a pudding shop, closed; orange shades; pride flags; erewhon; maybe a celebrity but probably not; the leather gay bar; a lady fighting a car turning right; glimpses of the valley; singing and scootering; a laundromat; someone selling knick knacks out of their car; a father tying his son’s shoelaces; strip mall signs and wandering eyes; grandmas and grandsons; dangerous eyes; korean lettering; the hollywood forever cemetery; a lovely lady with a matching pink dress and pink purse; someone sweeping outside of their tent; the walk of fame, because i figured i should; started hurting at mile 17; two tutus in a row; palm readings, everyone’s eyes on their feet; drag queens and police bikes; a purple jumpsuit; a biker gang; four different songs playing at once on hollywood blvd; the smell of piss; billboards for les miseraables; feathers and jewels, a carnival parade ; club music at 2pm; a stained glass store; double decker tour buses; in n out in hollywood; a prowling dog; bikes stored in a line; music stores spattered along sunset blvd; a teeny tiny red truck; sharpie artistry; a man with two trader joe’s bags (reminiscent of nyc for me somehow); so many palm trees, so many billboards; an embroidery studio; a man who waved at me after cutting me off while i crossed the street; a puppy held in cozy arms; music at mile 22; fake asian food; strip clubs alongside fancy stores; magnolia trees; couches on sidewalks; a waddlin hot dog; a conversation in korean; fake boobs and fake tans; visored tourists explorign weho; a rehearsal at the troubadour; puppers upon puppers; took a photo for a tourist; an american flag and a trump flag hung across from a pride banner; rodeo drive; avenue of the stars; filming taking plae in a salon; dogs sniffing butts; a woman picking up recycling; five boys waiting at a bus stop, two boys on a scooter, thinking of my lil brothers; car land; a seagul a lil far away from home; robot food delivery!; a school alarm test; a smile from a woman wearing scrubs; sirens; the sand and then the ocean between my toes.

phew.

i’d forgotten how much i’d seen and thought on this trip, twas more of an adventure than i’d given myself credit for.

I started in pasadena, working my way southwest through highland park, lincoln heights, and chinatown, brushing past dtla, cesar chavez ave turns into sunset blvd, which i followed into echo park and silver lake, a brief foray onto santa monica blvd, hollywood to beverly hills (i forgot such a place existed) to santa monica.

i chose my route to take me through a number of neighborhoods while not adding too many miles, staying in ‘safer’ neighborhoods to not worry family and friends. the day was bright, anyways. walking in la is truly STRANGE. nobody walks in la. i was only ever surrounded by cars, and every once in a while, a runner or a biker. (the exceptions to this rule are chinatown, the walk of fame, and santa monica.) there are fewer stoplights and fewer people than nyc, less people watching, more quiet. one person said hello to me 1.5 hours into the walk.

extremely rare sightings of human beings

i didn’t ever feel unsafe, though the lack of people was eerie at times. just the other day, in pasadena, i was catcalled from a car driving down lake ave. it surprisingly affected me more than i expected, compared to the comments i’ve gotten before while walking— the power dynamic of multiple men in a car leering vs. me walking on the sidewalk, a different kind of fear.

highway crossings

i’ve walked in la far less than i ever did in nyc, lazy, lazy, lazy… my walk led me on roads i’d driven many times and to things i never would have seen: greenery hidden in an underpass, a decrepit chinatown gate, a sweet bookstore. i had to cross a number of highways, though i couldn’t tell you which was which. i remember seeing downtown as i crossed the 110. some things are the same everywhere: parks, religious institutions, hair salons. spanish and chinese were heard the few times that people were around. there were more stairs and hills than expected. i saw more tierra mia’s than starbucks? strange. i didn’t notice someone wearing a mask until the last mile.

one can see the hollywood sign (and griffith observatory) from quite a bit of santa monica blvd. the vertical juxtaposition of neighborhoods (and wealth) is rather striking. i read somewhere that median income steadily increases as you move west on sunset blvd. la is sprawling, and there are many without a place to call home.

this was the longest i’ve ever walked in a day, and it was mostly peaceful. i thought my thoughts might be more profound, but most of the things in my brain were mundane, can’t force oneself to think deeply. at some point during the walk, i wrote down, ‘remember that the future is unknown’.

my feet started hurting at mile 17, and i stopped for domino’s garlic knots around mile 31 to get my feet to the end. my dear friend maria drove out to meet me on the beach, after she herself had run 18 miles up a mountain that morning. i thought of my new la friends often as i walked, with deep gratitude.

while i’d like to say my mind was clear and free the last mile, in truth, the mind was still thinking pretty hard, itchy, antsy, by the end. thinking about the walk and the day, thinking about things people said to me the past week, thinking about things i needed to do sooner rather than later, thinking about the end and the ocean.

the thoughts quieted, mostly, when i dipped my toes in the pacific ocean.

i probably won’t ever do this again.