Day 1: From the Beach to the Valley

The stairs up from my apartment felt a bit steeper with the extra weight on my back. Besides that however, the first few miles felt almost ordinary. I joined the Marvin Braude Bike Path northwards along the beach. My trekking poles made muted thuds against the concrete with their rubber tip covers on. I reached Ballona Creek, a concrete channel crossed effortlessly via a concrete bridge. I wondered about all the creeks and rivers I’d have to cross in the months ahead.

I like to think that LA is full of so many different people moving in so many different directions that it’s difficult to stand out. But let’s be honest; with my backpack, Seattle Sombrero, and trekking poles, I probably stood out. Westside neighborhoods blurred together as I focused on the miles to go until Valley Village. I looked up and a faded City of LA neighborhood sign read: “Beverlywood”.

On a tree-lined street I came across two young women on the sidewalk who asked what I was doing. I replied that I was walking to Seattle, and to my surprise they believed me. Of course they had the usual questions about how, but they didn’t seem to doubt my seriousness, which made me feel good. They offered me a ride up the block, which I politely declined. After all, walking is kind of the point and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference anyhow. Not when there’s over 2000 miles left to go.

Somewhere along the way, one of the rubber tips fell off one of my trekking poles. And so I threw the other one out, the unmuted click of the carbide tips making me all the more conspicuous as I walked through Beverly Hills. I passed through Franklin Canyon, and for a brief moment I was actually hiking on an actual hiking trail.

I crossed Mulholland Drive with the help of a signal that forced me to wait quite a while before letting me through. These won’t be a concern on the actual trail. There I’ll just walk.

Descending into the San Fernando Valley via Laurel Canyon Boulevard, I got a couple comments on my trekking poles from passers-by, as well as an offer to sell me another set which I respectfully declined. On my way to my Airbnb I swung by the Studio City Vons. My backpacking stove would stay in the bottom of my pack for a bit longer yet.