L.A. Noir Bike Ride
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
“Ladies and gentlemen: the story you are about to read is true. Only the names haven’t been changed to protect the innocent.”
Today’s ride was through Griffith Park to Chinatown. It was a gray, damp, and drizzly day. It looked a lot like classic L.A. film noir.
Saturday, April 7. I rode to the Pasadena Elks Lodge. I was supposed to meet the others there for the trip to Chinatown. I figured there had to be dame involved. Probably one wearing spandex and carbon-fiber shoes.
We headed out across Eagle Rock and into Glendale. Then we went down Sonora to Griffith Park. There, we took a right and passed Travel Town before heading up the hill.
Coming out of Griffith Park, we took Riverside Drive down to Stadium Way. As Frank said, “you can’t miss it.” And it was obvious. So we took a right and headed up into Elysian Park.
At the gate to Dodger Stadium, we took a left and rode past the Police Academy. Then down the hill into Chinatown.
Turning the corner, I got my first look at the City. Los Angeles, California. Millions of ordinary law-abiding people live here. Sometimes, the bike ride route goes through here. That’s where I come in.
The plan was to stop at Philippe’s, but there was a long line there, so we decided to go up the street to the Wonder Bakery in Chinatown.
I talked to the lady at the bakery. She didn’t know nothin’ about our case, but she sold me a very nice barbecued pork bun.
After the stop at the bakery, we passed some sort of police activity on Ord St. There were more police cars there than I’d ever seen in one place before, and even a helicopter overhead.
That kinda thing happens all the time in L.A. And it’s probably not a good idea to be riding past it on a bike. But at least we were wearing helmets.
Leaving Chinatown, we headed out of downtown. In Lincoln Heights, I spotted three abandoned couches for the Abandoned Couches Blog. Count ’em: 1 2 3
Next, we went up Collis to the South Pasadena border. There, we turned and headed up a steep hill.
The road suddenly pitched up hard. Then, behind me, I head a telltale click. Gene had shifted to his low gear. I knew I was in trouble. But when it comes to riding up hills, I don’t even know the word “shift”.
Coming down off the hill, we headed up Grand Ave, back into Pasadena, and back to the Elks Lodge, where it had all started. It was a pretty fun ride, even if it was kind of cold and wet.
44 miles.
