Despite Mr. Fogerty’s pleasantly melodious lyrics, there are very few rivers one can actually roll on. The Los Angeles River is one of them. See, e.g., Terminator II: Judgment Day. No one rolled on June 1, 2008, however. We kayaked. What follows is most of what I remember.
- Leave Lincoln Heights 5:45 a.m. Birds abound. We even spot a few carp happily frolicking.
- Spot many ambitious graffiti projects between the 1st street bridge and the 7th street bridge including a couple of tags by the now notorious Buket. (Snooty intellectuals who prefer to read rather than watch can click here.)
- 7:00 a.m. Finish fifth of Wild Turkey 101 and smash the bottle against an overpass.
- Pass a bum somewhere in South Central (now technically South Los Angeles) who tells us “the dirtiest part is just ahead.”
- 9:00 a.m. Finish all beer and the bit of gin which magically appeared (seriously, it was magic) . No alcohol left for remainder of journey.
- 9:15 a.m. Dave, an esteemed OBGYN at a hospital I won’t disclose, begins behaving like a three year old. Rick and I realize (too late) where the lion’s share of the Wild Turkey went.
- See dead carp near the City of Vernon and think maybe bum was right.
- Dave tries to tip my kayak. Dave ends up falling in the water. Rick and I point out that swimming in the city’s sewer is probably not healthy. Dave becomes enraged.
- See a dead pigeon shortly after spotting the dead carp. Try [hopelessly] to keep any water from dripping on our hands and body. Fail miserably… especially since Dave insists on splashing us with his oar.
- Dave throws up. Twice. Dave then thinks he sees an ibis. Rick tells Dave it’s a heron. Dave threatens to tip Rick’s boat and then Rick concedes that, despite the fact ibises are usually only found in Florida, the bird in question “could be an ibis.”
- See lots of freeways and signs… one of which says “Compton”. We wonder for a while if we are in Compton.
- 12:00 noon. Realize my legs hurt and have turned a bright shade of red. I know it’s too late for sunscreen, but apply some anyway.
- 1:00 p.m. Ask a bicyclist riding near the river whether we’re in Long Beach or not. He “thinks so.”
- Spot homeless lady sunbathing naked. Stare and then immediately regret staring once we realize she’s old and homeless.
- Plunge over a 4ft waterfall and find ourselves wet and in tidal water.
- 2:30 p.m. After miles of paddling upwind (without the help of the river’s nurturing current), we round a bend and navigate into Long Beach Harbor. I stand up on the dock and feel like I’m going to collapse. I blame my recent robust physical activity. Rick thinks it’s because my breakfast and lunch were from a bottle. Dave complains sorely of being “fucking hungover.”
- 3:00 p.m. We eat the first solid food of the day. People in the restaurant look at us. Rick thinks he overhears someone saying that we smell. I suggest that maybe Dave is the one that smells since he spent the most time in the water. We all laugh (except Dave). Another adventure in the book
