Yesterday was a pitch-perfect day here in Los Angeles. The sky was without a single cloud, the sun was bright, and the temperature was in the high 70s to low 80s. Normally with such great weather, I celebrate by opening my blinds and letting the sunshine into my living room, but instead, I decided to do something a little different. I decided to go OUTDOORS.
Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking: “B-Side went outside? Into the sun?? Isn’t he a vampire who spends all his time at his computer writing about old pennies he found under his bed?” This is all true. However, I am capable of change and surprise, and so with an ambition to embrace life to its fullest (and maybe get some cardio too), I trekked over to Los Angeles’s Runyon Canyon park for an afternoon hike.
Photos of the sordid affair (along with a dash of celebrity) after the jump…
The last time I had been to Runyon had to be five or six years ago. I enjoyed the hike greatly then, and I had always resolved to go back, but one can never underestimate the power of laziness. Plus, part of me was slightly nervous about going back. The first time, I nearly fell off the damn mountainside when the trail became entirely too steep for my limited agility. I survived, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to push my luck, especially without a friend who could catch me should my trademark clumsiness come into play.
Well, I decided I would throw caution to the wind and brave the perilous peaks of Runyon Canyon. After all, if hundreds of people can do it every day; so could I. Besides, I had already conquered Runyon once before. What was I being so sheepish about? Worst came to worst, I could always opt out of the steep part and venture down the canyon through the gentle, non-threatening alternate path. Yes, this was what I would do. Play it safe.
With a self-appointed mission to not die, I bravely attacked the canyon and all its natural beauty.
Behold! The grand entrance to Runyon Canyon.
GREAT.
(Side note: the stickers on the rattle snake sign kind of make it looks like it says “Caution: BATTLE SNAKES,” which would be totally awesome)
The hike begins. The incline is gradual, and yet I can already feel myself warming up.
Further evidence of the day’s perfection.
This is the exact point where I begin to sweat.
The incline starts to increase. This dog’s got the right idea.
At last I reach my first scenic outlook. It’s pretty stunning, and I’m not even close to the top of the canyon.
Santa Monica from afar. You can just barely see all the yuppies.
Hollywood in the foreground, downtown in the background, smog everywhere else.
I guess it’s not a perfect day. The haze/smog conditions have severely hindered long-distance visibility. Plus, it’s around 1:30, which is when smog is at its worst. Yeah, it’s pretty gross.
A local TV station films some guy, who’s talking about his workout routine. And the answer is yes, I did accidentally wander into their shot when I was taking a picture of the city.
A random well. You know, so you can fall in it and die.
Across the canyon, this is the “easy” trail that leads back down to the entrance. I will be taking this path later.
More smog.
The peak at the top of the picture — that’s the “summit” of the park. I will not be going there.
Time to forge upwards. This is where things get arduous (as evidenced by the little stick figure on the sign falling over).
Cacti!
Good God, this is steep. Doesn’t look it, but it is. I should note that I’m a hot sweaty mess at this point.
Some of the mansions in the hills. Around this time a poor girl came spastically running by me, tormented by an errant bee. Turns out she’s deathly allergic; hence, the drama. I heroically said I’d take care of the bee. I swatted the air a few times and proudly said, “There!”
Look at the good I do.
Fond memories. About five years ago, Method Man rented out this mansion and had a BBQ, which I was lucky enough to get invited to. In short, it was awesome. (And I had the best bragging rights ever for about a month)
The iconic Hollywood sign.
So this is directly across the canyon again. You can see two paths. The lower one is the gradual decline. The upper one ascends to the peak, crosses the ridge line, and then descends back down. I was already halfway through my water bottle. There was no way I was gonna bother with any high altitude shenanigans, sorry.
Scenic Lookout #2. Here you can really see the “grid” of Los Angeles. It’s amazing at night.
Two fit people ascend the hill, once again making me feel like the only non-model/actor in the entire park.
Ah, the path from whence I came. That was where I complained about the gradual incline. How naive I was…
Random horse and goat.
Okay, so change of plan. I don’t know what came over me — altitude sickness, perhaps? — but I’ve decided to take the challenging trail up to the highest peak in the park. WISH ME LUCK. (Did I mention that the fit couple from before decided to turn around and take the easy path?)
Oooh… Power lines.
Oooh… Artsy power lines!
Seriously, I can’t stop taking photos of power lines. The eternal struggle between man and nature!!!
There it is: the peak. AND MORE POWER LINES!
The trail narrows. This is when it gets tricky.
Just as I prepare for the most difficult part of the hike, lettering appears in the sky. Is this a divine message? A not-so-subtle hint that I should make a U-Turn and go back???
See that frilly grass? Just beyond it is DEATH.
Triumph! I’ve arrived at the peak after having climbed a very steep and difficult section (which I did not photograph). This here is the path that led me to this glorious apex.
DAMMIT! I got faked out. That’s the real peak — the Everest to my K-2.
Checking in on the skywriting. Nothing too impressive yet.
The money shot. My favorite landscape pic of the day. (It looks better when it’s bigger)
“WELC”? I can only assume this is an extravagant ad for Welch’s Jelly.
NOW I’m at the top (as evidenced by the stump). Once I got up to the fakeout peak, it wasn’t so hard to reach this one. The ridge was a pretty easy hike. Man, I feel so empowered. I’m so glad I didn’t take the easy route now.
Now I have to go down this, which is about ten times steeper than it looks. I’m so mad I didn’t take the easy route now.
I just descended down THAT. It was slightly terrifying. Not making things any easier was some guy coming up at the same time. He almost fell over the side, causing him to scream. Thanks for making me that much more nervous, jerk.
Thank goodness for flat-ish ground. I must confess that I did slip moments earlier. I was moving too quickly downhill and the sand proved shiftier than I had expected. In a flash, I was falling backwards. I caught myself with my palms though; so butt never hit the turf, and I was spared the humiliation of running totally aground.
During my great slip-up debacle, I managed to frighten an errant lizard, who scampered about frantically as if the world were coming to an end. I quickly took out my camera to document him, Nat Geo style, but by then, he had slipped into a pile of nearby sticks to camouflage himself. Oh, but I STILL SAW HIM. Can you?
I see you, LIZARD.
Ten minutes later, the pilot has spelled out his first word: “WELCOME.” It’s probably Gene Simmons writing his much maligned Apprentice catch-phrase, “Welcome. It’s a Kodak World. Welcome.”
There in the foreground is where I had first stopped to take pictures. It was there that I had looked up here and said, “No, I’m not going up there.” Proved you wrong, ME.
After taking five (or probably ten) minutes to gingerly descend from the summit, I look back to reflect on my accomplishments. Then some girl’s dog goes roaring down the same trail in 30 seconds, and I feel like a fool.
In skywriting news, the first part of “WELCOME” has totally started to dissolve.
Looks like this skywriting is heading towards “Welcome Home.” This had better not be a personal message. I WANT AN ADVERTISEMENT!
Looks like this skywriting is heading towards “Welcome Home.” This had better not be a personal message. I WANT AN ADVERTISEMENT!
Sadly, I think it’s only a message. It ultimately says “Welcome Home Tori & —” To be honest, I stopped paying attention. It was taking entirely too long. Besides, the “Welcome” had already turned into mush by the time the ampersand was halfway done. Dumb.
Anyway, by the time I had taken this last photo of the skywriting, it had been nearly two hours since I’d been hiking. I decided it would best if I put the camera away and focused on getting to the bottom. There really weren’t many other views worth taking photos of. I mean, there were views, but they weren’t distinct enough from my previous pics to warrant further photographic attention.
Well, I eventually made my way down to the base, and as I metaphorically patted myself on the back for pushing myself to the physical and mental limit, I had a nifty little celebrity sighting that I’m sure the ladies will love. Urgently talking on his cell phone about “publicity” was a shirtless Jesse Metcalfe (a.k.a. John the gardener from Desperate Housewives). He had more tattoos than I would have thought. Way more tattoos, actually. And he was a bit more jacked. Nevertheless, I chuckled to myself that just when my Runyon experience seemed like it would be going celebrity-free, one pops up at literally the very end. Such is the way of Los Angeles.
So that was my exciting adventure from yesterday. Hmmm… sun’s coming out now. Maybe it’s time for another hike?
To see full-quality versions of most of these pics, check out the Flickr set here.