The Militant's Summer (Or Whatever Season It Is) Ritual: The Bike Ride To The Beach

It's summertime, and the Militant set out on Monday to do his ritual, which he tries to do at least once every Summer - ride his bike from the Militant Compound (located in an unspecified location in Central Los Angeles) to the beach (Here's a post from 2008, via a different route, on this ride)!

The sun was shining, so he brought his bike out onto the streets of Los Angeles, and headed westward!

[Follow the nearly-40-mile ride route here (the first and last few miles omitted for obvious reasons)]:

Okay, after rolling down on an unspecified boulevard and turning on an unspecified avenue, the Militant found himself going south on Oxford Street, just a block east of Western Avenue and a far better alternative as far as riding on two wheels goes. There he headed west on 4th Street, in all its sharrowed-ness, transitioning from the dense apartmentage of Koreatown to the tony mansions of Hancock Park, all while staying on the same street. Upon reaching La Brea Blvd, it's back to the vehicular combat heading south, but not for long; for upon reaching another bike-friendly thoroughfare - Redondo Blvd - just south of Olympic, it was easy sailing for the next few miles.

At the end of the road was Jefferson, where the Metro Exposition Light Rail Line was being built in front of him. In this section, just west of the future La Brea Station, rail was being placed down.

Just west of the future La Cienega Station was a peculiar sight: As most of us know, the Expo Line is the modern-day replacement of the Pacific Electric's Santa Monica Air Line and the wooden bridge which carried the old Red Cars was not torn down for the Metro Rail structure, but rather, the new rail structure was built directly over it (pictured left)! Perhaps the adjoining Exposition Bikeway will be using it when the light rail opens next year.

Further west, the light rail line runs for the next few hundred yards until its terminus just east of Venice Blvd. The Militant snapped this picture of some of the rail-placing that's still going on:
The Militant veered west on Washington, just past the future Expo Line terminus, rounded the corner near the Downtown Culver City Trader Joe's and found himself on Culver Blvd, where he continued in a westerly direction, eventually finding the rails-to-trails Culver Boulevard Median Bicycle Path (pictured left) - which was once a Pacific Electric Red Car Line, and later a Southern Pacific freight line until 1976, The county's transportation commission (Metro's predecessor) bought it in 1990 and converted it to the bike path we see today.

The Militant continued down the path (diverging temporarily for some extra pumps of air courtesy of the Wheel World bike shop on Sepulveda), when he spotted...

...The marine layer. Greeeeat. Suddenly his bright blue Summer sky yielded a dreary mass of grey, more suited for Winter or early Spring days. Um, wasn't the point of this ride to celebrate Summer?

But the Militant's ever-observant eye did spot a peculiar monument on Culver Blvd and Mascagni Street in the Del Rey neighborhood of Los Angeles - an over-six-foot tall entrance pylon (pictured right), most likely a vestigal remnant of the neighborhood's old subdivision development (Note to self: Find some more like this around town. Could make a great future MA post...).

Now with his shades off (hope no one was following him at that point), the Militant ended up on some side streets and made his way to Lincoln Blvd north and Washington Blvd. west, where a fellow cyclist rode alongside him. He was riding a fixie, but he was no teenager or hipster. He was some dude in his '50s. He looked like he was in pain. Poor dude (BTW, there's some sewer replacement going on around here, so be mindful if you're gonna ride along Washington north of the Marina).

In no time, the Militant found his way onto the Venice Pier. But it was overcast. And cold. There Militant was not a very happy camper, especially since he came dressed for temperatures a little higher up on the thermometer.

Funny thing, each of the lifeguard stations along the beach was painted in a bright tone, and bore the words, "Summer of Color" (pictured left). Ummm, riiiiight. He can find two things wrong with that statement on this dreary un-summery day.

So the Militant just rode north on the beach bike path, passing by the Venice Beach Boardwalk, with its numerous souvenir shops, street performers, marijuana dispensaries and throngs of unhappy tourists, expecting to see and experience something that resembles Summer.

The Militant biked north until the Santa Monica Pier, where he walked his bike up onto Ocean Avenue and east on Santa Monica Blvd.

As he passed the Third Street Promenade, he noticed that the place looked exactly the same as the last time he was there (some three or so years ago...). He continued down the boulevard, and after Lincoln, decided to use the less-busy Broadway instead. A perfect route, as it had not only a bike lane but a number of traffic-calming devices, such as curb bump-outs, built into the street!
At this point night was falling, and he learned Broadway in Santa Monica turned into Ohio Ave. in West Los Angeles. He had no choice but to continue on Santa Monica Blvd, but then picked up the SMB bike lane after Sepulveda.

It was at this point the Militant was debating whether to just rest and hop on the Metro 4 or 704 bus back to Central Los Angeles or just continue on the bike. A pounding headache made the latter difficult, but a true Militant never takes the easy way out! ARRRRGH!

While passing through Century City (and taking a short Twitter break), he saw some guitar-playing d-bag on Santa Monica try to serenade some chicks waiting on the curb in front of the Westfield Century City on the other side of the street. LOL.

Anyway, it wasn't long before the Militant found himself in Beverly Hills and Little Santa Monica Blvd turned into Burton Way (yet another abandoned Red Car route!). Then after being near the Beverly Center area and just down 3rd Street from Farmer's Market, he realized that he might as well finish the journey on bike, as he was almost there. From 3rd down Cochran it was back on 4th Street, and then back on Oxford, and then onto the various unspecified streets that led him back to his compound.

The Militant was so worn out from this nearly 40-mile trek that he lacked the energy to post this blog entry until a day later (must be getting old...)!

Anyhoo, comparing this post to the route he took back in '08 shows that both knowing more bike-friendly routes and the existence of more official bike infrastructure can really make a difference riding through Los Angeles. Broadway through Santa Monica was an awesome route, and the Militant hopes the bike path that adjoins the Metro Exposition Line would make this trip a lot easier come next year. He would also like to see true bike-friendly improvements along Santa Monica Blvd west of Sepulveda, and link that to Ohio Avenue and Broadway in Santa Monica.

In the meantime, the Militant wants it to be Summer already...

Playing The Angel (City): 'Los Angeles Plays Itself' Screening At The Aero

Gotta love social networking.

If it weren't for finding out on his Twitter or Facebook (forgot which one), the Militant would have totally slept on this one. One of his friends/followees posted Saturday about attending the sold-out screening of the 2003 documentary Los Angeles Plays Itself, screening this weekend at the American Cinematheque's Aero Theatre in Santa Monica.

So the Militant looked into it to add to his Sunday activities. 7:30 p.m. screening? The Militant was so there. Besides, it was a perfect way to celebrate Los Angeles' birthday weekend, since he was to lazy to wake up Saturday morning and go to the El Pueblo festivities.

He also bought his $10 movie ticket online via Fandango.com, which was not only totally convenient, but their $1 add-on service fee was way more reasonable than that of, oh, say, larger, more oppressive online ticket monopolies.

The Militant got in line, which went around the corner, and just his luck; right as his place in line entered the building, they announced that, for those who hadn't purchased via Fandango, the show was sold out! He even had a little difficulty finding a seat!

The film, of course, is Thom Andersen's (no, not that one) documentary (or video essay, as the filmmaker touts it) on the depiction of the Los Angeles metropolitan area in motion pictures, over the course of nearly eight decades. The film is, by no means, comprehensive of course, which is just as well given its two-and-a-half-hour-plus running time. But for someone as militantly Angeleno as, well, the Militant Angeleno, every minute of the film is captivating, revealing and fascinating.

There are no interviews; every scene is comprised of scenes of other films, always credited onscreen by title and year. Though the narration is written by, and from the point of view of, the Chicago-born, Brentwood/Westside-raised filmmaker, it's voiced by the droll and sometimes monotone Encke King, which is actually sometimes put to good effect, especially during scenes of humorous commentary, like this sequence that connects architecturally-significant residences with onscreen antagonists:

The film also makes some astute observations on not only the urban (or non-urban) landscape of Los Angeles, but other issues such as history, transportation, depiction of law enforcement (the commentary on the LAPD's well-known motto is pure gold) and to the Militant's sheer delight, how motion pictures have oft-reduced "Los Angeles" to a two-letter acronym.

Of course, there were a couple of points the Militant could nitpick on, such as Andersen's commentary on the bus system that would make any yellow-shirted pseudo-Marxist jizz in their pants. And the ending of the film, which finally addresses the depiction (and non-depiction) of blacks, Latinos and Native Americans in 'Hollywood,' seemed a little too rushed, with an ending too abrupt (not to mention the fact that other ethnic groups prominent in our city got absolutely no mention). And lastly, how could they do an entire section on the LAPD without a single clip from the 1988 movie Colors?

Following Sunday night's screening, the filmmaker was present for some Q and A, of which roughly half of the capacity crowd stayed for. The Militant was able to ask Andersen a question, of which he answered (of course the Militant won't reveal which one...).

The Militant wondered what kind of crowd he was with, since it takes a certain kind of person who'd wanna sit through a nearly 3-hour documentary about Los Angeles. The crowd, as expected, was predominantly white, over-40 and upscale in nature, though there were bits of every other demographic mixed in. Some of the people who asked questions identified themselves as transplants, some living here as recently as four months, another a woman originally from the Bay Area who grew up among Los Angeles-hate, yet found her self enamored with all things So Cal. A couple also identified themselves as locals.

Like this great City itself, there were a multitude of perspectives that attracted the crowd to this screening. Some came to seek validation ("Those who walk, or ride the bus, are the ones who truly know the city" - Yessss!), some came to learn, some came to learn even more. All of which are a great thing.

There are future plans for a DVD-version of this documentary, along with a supplementary book by Andersen covering post-2003 films such as Crash. But next time this thing screens locally, run, don't walk, to wherever it's screening.

Los Angeles Plays Itself is 100% Militant-approved. You. Must. Watch. It.

GLOWing or GLOWering?

Yes, the Militant was one of the 45,000 or so people who packed the Santa Monica pier area on Saturday night for GLOW. He was there between 1 to 3 a.m., and though he seriously considered riding his bike there (he's biked from his compound to the coast more than once before), he hopped in the car, which was a nice ride up until right by the Lincoln Ave exit on the 10, where he was a few feet away being rear-ended.

Yes, parking in Santa Monica was nucking futs on Saturday night, even at 12:30 a.m. He finally found the open lot at Santa Monica College's Madison Campus on Santa Monica and 11th Street which was openly accessible to the boulevard yet only had about a dozed cars parked in it. Serenipitously, the Militant saw an approaching Metro Local Line 4 bus right away, and, armed with his TAP card, hopped aboard for a quick ride to the Promenade area.

The automobile traffic was really nothing compared to the pedestrian traffic, as the intersection of 2nd and Colorado had over a hundred pedestrians at all four corners, anxiously awaiting clearance by a traffic cop. Yet, that was still nothing compared to the multitudes stuffed on the Pier itself (pictured left), which was closed off to people entering it at around 1 a.m. The sound of emergency vehicles entering the Pier wasn't encouraging at all, and the cautious Militant wondered at the potential loss of human life in the event of a sudden stampede. If you were a terrorist plotting to set damage to the Pier, you would have had a total field day on this night. So the Militant got his camo-covered ass out of there and onto the way less-congested Palisades Park.

Other blog accounts will talk about the art and the experience. The Militant conservatively estimates that perhaps 20% of the entire crowd, most of whom are between age 20 and 40, has their own blog of some form. That's about 900 blog posts on this event, and you've probably read 20% of that already by now. So the Militant will take another angle.

Standing on the cliffs of Palisades Park, looking out into the beach area, and wanting to reach the exhibits and events there, he noticed that Pacific Coast Highway formed an inaccessible moat where the only nearby entry points were the Pier and the PCH pedestrian bridge, also experiencing heavy foot traffic (ironically, it seemed the easiest way to reach the seaside activities were by swimming there). The Militant was eventually able to reach the beach, and likened the whole experience to Grad Night at Disneyland, where a familiar place normally visited during the daytime takes on a whole new context in the early morning hours.

The success of the event was also its inherent failure -- the limitations of automobile transport. The existing parking infrastructure was too burdened that it eventually became an inconvenience to go to as well. The only transit modes there -- Metro and Santa Monica Big Blue buses -- were at the mercy of their infrequent late night schedules (though the buses coincidentally came when the Militant needed them that night) as well as the fact that they, too, can also be stuck in traffic. Also, in this era of $4+ gas, looking around for parking also burns fuel you could have used for more worthwhile uses.

Case in point: The Songkran Thai New Year Festival this past April in Thai Town had even more attendees -- over 50,000 in fact, in a slightly smaller time frame, yet because of the adjacent Hollywood/Western subway station being, like right there, a large number of them took the (M) Red Line to that event. And though that created problems of its own, it still did not substantively impact street and freeway traffic in the same manner that GLOW did.

So perhaps the City of SaMo and the Santa Monica Arts Foundation should consider the following for future GLOW events:

• A satellite parking/shuttle bus system a la Hollywood Bowl
• Implementing a water ferry system from other beach cities to Santa Monica
  
• Moving the whole damn event to the nearest Metro station (Washington/National Expo Line station in Culver City? Blue Line/Downtown Long Beach?)
• Postponing the next one until the Exposition Line reaches Santa Monica (because you know that Subway To The Sea thing is gonna take a while...)

Despite the whining and grumbling, the Militant took interest inj this event because it sounded like a clever deviation from the norm -- the beach open all night, this amazing (over?) use of public space, the visual impact of it all -- and even for that the Militant thought it was a great event. Besides, randomly running into some of his operatives there was rather rewarding as well (those things usually happen if you grew up here, or lived here for a very long time...). But yes, crowd control and planning do make for everything.

The Militant looks forward to the next GLOW, and for that one, he's gonna remember to ride the bike there.

Cool Like Dat(eh)

On a hot summer's day where most Angelenos were focused on either the too-big-for-its-britches Sunset Junction Festival, the Los Angeles Tofu Festival or Nisei Week festivities, the Militant had a million things to do all over town on Saturday. The day concluded with a visit to Santa Monica's Temple Bar, where the Militant and one of his trusty musically-inclined Militia members checked out everyone's favorite "violin player of the hip-hop music genre," Paul Dateh. The Militant, without any monetary compensation (yo, that would be sooo un-militant anyway), has extolled the virtues of this Angeleno musician from the Westside on this here blog, so it was time to see if he's the real deal.

Dateh played to a well-packed house (a diverse crowd which seemed equally represented by close friends and new Internet fans), backed by a 4-piece band called The Live Movement, singing some tunes in the soul/funk music vein, and dropped in a set with his YouTube partner- in-crime, DJ inka one. The two pretty much performed a live version of their famous YouTube video, which now boasts over a hundred thousand views, and Dateh even mentioned that he will be featured this coming Tuesday night on ABC's "iCaught" Internet culture-focused television show. He even performed a few inka one-backed songs on sung vocals. He finished off his live set with a spirited cover of Jill Scott's "It's Love" and a latin-flavored tune to close (Dateh joked about the irony of a Japanese American like himself teaching the crowd to chant the song's Spanish-language chorus).

The Militant may or may not have chatted with Dateh after his show to give him props (Sorry Paul, that's just S.O.P. - hope you understand).

But yes, dude was the real deal. Check him out sometime before he blows up.

Overlooked Los Angeles: World War Memorial, Mid-City

Standing at the southwest corner of Adams Blvd. and La Brea Ave. on a nondescript and lightly-landscaped traffic triangle is a concrete pillar, some 15 feet high and topped by an eagle, largely ignored by the cars, trucks and buses that drive right by every hour, most of them crossing town to or from the Westside, going to or from LAX via the "La Brea-La Cienega Freeway" or heading to or from the nearby Santa Monica Freeway.

But this pillar, obviously neglected and weathered over the years by sun, pollution and graffiti has some significance behind it -- it is Los Angeles' World War I (and II) memorial.
Erected in 1936, this memorial was originally established to honor the fallen from "The World War" of 1917. The inscription reads:

IN MEMORY
OF THE
SONS AND DAUGHTERS
OF AMERICA
WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES
IN THE CAUSE OF
THE WORLD WAR

1917-1918

AND

1941-1945

Obviously the last two lines were appended some time after 1936 when there was more than one of these "World War" things. Also, the fact that there's at least two feet of blank space below the last two lines makes you wonder if this thing could ever get updated yet again.

The memorial was built by The American Legion, as indicated by a small bronze plaque at the bottom (pictured right). It credits the Legion's "Greayer Clover Post No. 254." Greayer Clover, for some of you who know your history, was the namesake of Santa Monica's Clover Field, a.k.a Santa Monica Airport (hence "Cloverfield Blvd"). Clover lived in Los Angeles since youth and was killed in an air accident in France during World War I. Clover Field was originally a U.S. Army air field that went civilian after World War II.

In 1936, this section of Mid-City, just west of West Adams, was much more tony; instead of being populated with flammable warehouse spaces used to store movie sets, the neighborhood back then, three decades before the 10 Freeway sliced it latitudinally, was a more pedestrian-oriented, self-sufficient neighborhood bearing institutions that the neighborhood lacks today. The Fais Do-Do nightclub, which stands just a few blocks west, was a bank (First Citizens Savings Bank and Trust) back when this memorial was built. According to Fais Do-Do's "About Us" page:

"...the architecturally historic landmark that now houses Fais Do Do was constructed in 1930 at the height of the Art Deco period in Los Angeles. As Los Angeles spread west, eastern industrialists, silent filmmakers, and other early hipsters took over the tiny Mid-City area which soon became known as the Sugar Hill District."

Hipsters? LOL. Guess things never change. Los Feliz and Silver Lake, behold your future!!!

The Bike Path To Summer

Although Memorial Day weekend was over a month ago, and the Summer Solstice came and went last week, for this Militant, it's not Summer until I visit the beach. Having some work responsibilities wrapped up by early afternoon, I found a unique window of opportunity to hit the coast on Thursday.

Since 1993, I've inaugurated the arrival of Summer with a ride down the 22-mile South Bay Bike Path.

Despite the beach being outside my driving ban territory, I still decided to save some gas anyway by taking advantage of Metro's new Rapid Line 704, which supposedly gets me to Santa Monica in an hour. To my dismay, the bus wasn't on time (or maybe I missed the last one?) and it wasn't a fancy red-colored bus, but rather a regular poppy-orange Metro Local with a "704 Santa Monica" headsign. Nevertheless, the bike went on the front rack, the iPod went in my ears, and I was on my way.

It did take about an hour to reach the beach, not bad. I disembarked at Colorado and started pedaling, passing the throngs of digital camera-snapping summer tourists outside iconic Santa Monica Pier sign, crossing the curiously-named Moomat Ahiko Way -- which is native American Chumash for "Breath of the Ocean" and not after some Arab-Japanese fellow as I had previously thought. Within a few minutes, I was finally on The Path.

My destination, the end of the path at Torrance County Beach was a virtually-unseen point in the distance, past the slight haze created by coastal moisture. Riding on the path during the summer is a unique experience; the sum beats down on your back and arms yet your face is cooled by the moist sea air, rewarded frequently by the delicate coastal breezes. The experience is just not the same during the winter, where it's considerably colder, and the flat, spanning aesthetic of the beach is dramatically altered by storm berms bulldozed in the sand. Yes, I can always come here in the winter, but I don't like to.

Having breezed past the Venice Boardwalk on my summer bike rides on The Path, I decided to play "tourist" and simply walk my bike along the Boardwalk (a misnomer since it's simply pavement). It was my first time on the actual Boardwalk since helping a friend visiting from Philadelphia realize her dream of rollerblading in Venice Beach a decade ago (for my newbie rollerblading ass though, it was a muscle-aching nightmare). Sometimes I wonder what it's like to be a tourist. If all I saw of Angelenos were stoned-out smelly dudes strumming guitars while selling ersatz paintings or hawking henna designs, I might not like this town all that much. Although I must report that I spotted the Silver Lake Walking Dude of all people, in all his sunburned glory, here on the Venice Boardwalk, well outside his home environs.

After Venice Beach, I got back on the bike and rode through the "street" segment of The Path, crossing one of Abbot Kinney's few surviving canals and navigating the perimeter of Marina Del Rey, finally reaching a dedicated bike path again where it junctions with the Ballona Creek Path. I think I'll shut up for now and let the pictures speak for themselves:

Gigantic crane birds (center) hang out in the Ballona Wetlands --

the last piece of land untouched since the native Tongva tribe roamed the area.

The Del Rey Lagoon, just south of Ballona Creek,
is the last vestige of a large span of marshland
that would eventually be dredged to create The Marina.

Looking back north, The El Segundo Power Plant hums and churns
while surfers ride the waves just yards away.

The surfer's monument at Hermosa Beach Pier.

The path ends here, next to the fortress-like cliffs of the Palos Verdes Peninsula.

Looking back, to think I came all this way.
Santa Monica can hardly be seen in the distance.

The sand, the surf, the foam, the kelp, the easy feeling of a
summer evening in Southern California.

When the sun sets over the Pacific...

My Summer initiation ritual is not complete without baptizing myself in the waters of the Pacific (okay, just a knee-deep wade would suffice this time), reminding me that I've completed my journey, and forming a connection to my ancestors who have similarly waded the other side. As the sun set, some music provided by the iPod orchestra completed the mood, of a day finishing off its business in this part of the world.

Now time for the journey back.

With night approaching, the environment suddenly changes, and it's not necessarily for the worse. The moist sea air embraced me like an invisible blanket, keeping me relatively warm as I speed through the cold of night. Pier lights served as decorative strings jutting out into the dark, unknown expanse of the ocean. As I raced back towards Santa Monica and the receding layer of remaining post-dusk sunlight fades into bands of orange and purple, the bonfires of Doheny State Beach formed seemed to form their own runway perpendicular to the paths of jet planes roaring above.

Come 9 p.m., in the dark, unlit expanses of Playa Del Rey, I felt like a western Pioneer navigating towards unknown territory, with only a small bike light guiding my way. Daunting, yes, but really very exciting. The full moon also provided quite a sight with its light reflecting on the waters of Ballona Creek (photo right).

But once I reached Santa Monica, the quiet solace of the beach at night ended suddenly, with the lights of the Pacific Park blaring on the Pier and throngs of people walking around both on the Path and on the sand. The energy of this beach continued as if the sun had never set. A free valet service was set up to accommodate people's bikes next to the path, and the lot was mostly full.

Navigating the Santa Monica streets by the 3rd Street Promenade, I had long left the dark, silent solitude of the beach at night and was back in the city again, waiting for the 4 bus to take my bike and my tired Militant self back home.

Yes. Summer is finally here.

When Ya Gotta Go, Go Metro!

Looks like the automatic pay toilets have hit my hood. A brand new Metro Latrine is being installed at the Metro Rail Vermont/Santa Monica station. About time, I say. Maybe the Metro Bus stop across the street won't reek of urine anymore. A week ago, the news racks were removed from the site, a rectangular hole dug out of the pavement and a large concrete base installed. When a water main was spotted protruding from the base, I knew it was Potty Time. The toilet, an off-the-shelf model by international street advertising company JCDecaux is identical to ones seen in Downtown, as well as in Frisco, Chicago and Paris.
A closer look at the pay toilet gave way to a definite nod to Los Angeles' rich diversity. Instructions on how to use the toilets are also given in German and French (pictured left), because, we all know that Los Angeles is famous for its large Deutsch- and Français- speaking immigrant communities. Oh well, it doesn't matter what race, ethnicity or nationality you are. You might be an American outside the toilet, but inside... You're-A-Peein.'