I rig my saltwater rod in my apartment not long after the first light of the morning.
It’s not as early as I’d prefer, but it’s still long before most of the neighbors' alarm
clocks interrupt their sleep. The sun will still be low and over my shoulder, shining
from my back and piercing the water ahead of me while I wade my favorite sections
of the river. The gate to my front yard swings shut behind me and I turn the corner
and head to the West, past the Pilates studio with surprisingly few open hours. My
hip pack is stuffed with the necessities of the river (a handful of flies, extra packets of
leaders, a couple spools of old 1x tippet, Boga Grip, and my camera) as I make my way
past the boutique coffee shops which haven’t opened even though most other coffee
shops in America have already been slinging lattes for hours. A small line of pre-
caffeine zombies gather on the sidewalk and I weave between them and their
confused, sleepy stares. A guy with a fly rod is a pretty odd sight in my neighborhood.
Walking down the slight grade towards the river, I make a mental note that I still
haven’t signed up for accordion lessons at the dilapidated music studio that shares a
building with the store selling used wheelchairs and walkers on the corner. I’m nearly
there. It’s my neighborhood escape from the everyday bustle of Los Angeles. A
strange oasis of sorts, the access point at Red Car River Park welcomes me back into
the channel.
If you live in Los Angeles, the odds of knowing there is an actual Los Angeles River
are slim, although it’s more plausible since the local news is momentarily buzzing
with plans for a river revitalization project. In this case, the river is newsworthy
because it comes with a Los Angeles-size price tag, ranging from nearly $500 million
to $1 billion depending on the plan and who you ask. It could also be a case of
mistaken identity, and you might think the “river” is really a drainage ditch. I’ll give
you that one. It’s plausible and I’ve heard way crazier stuff around here. It could also
be you have no idea there is still a river running through the city. That’s also a
possibility, particularly if you live on the Westside and you rarely, if ever, leave your
bubble.