simple: if they were great walks that I had never walked or heard about, they were candidates for inclusion in this book.
There was great pleasure in determining which walks to include. As was the case with both Secret Stairs books, gathering the information for this collection gave me a mandate to investigate parks, canyons, and corners of the city that I’d always known about but never explored.
Some walks were familiar to me from years gone by—like Griffith Park’s Fern Dell, which my daughters loved when they were young. Some were familiar to me because I’d heard about them or had seen them from afar, like the giant steps at Baldwin Hills Scenic Overlook, or the Naples Canals in Long Beach.
But others were brand new. I found Peanut Lake just by looking at a map. Lovely! A friend told me about Paradise Falls. Fantastic!
All of them were near at hand, very few required much of a drive, and almost all were easily accessible by public transport (for these criteria were part of the litmus test, too). Except for a few instances where there is a fee for weekend parking, all of the walks are open to the public, free of charge.
I had low expectations when the first Secret Stairs book was published. During the years I spent finding the hidden stairs, mapping them, and designing the walks, I encountered almost no one. The stairs really felt secret.
But in the years since, I have continued to be surprised and delighted by the book’s popularity and by the literally hundreds of people who have told me how much the book has meant to them. Some have told me how they got fit, lost weight, and began dating for the first time in years. A few have told me how they met a new friend, or a new partner, on the monthly stair walks. Dozens of people have said variations of, “I have lived here for thirty years, and I never even knew this place existed.”
And many of them have told me that they had the same experience I did in the making of Secret Stairs—that exploring Los Angeles on these urban trails changed their lives and their feelings about living in this sometimes difficult city.
I hope this collection of walks will have a similar impact, and introduce residents and visitors to parts of Los Angeles they wouldn’t otherwise encounter, and help them fall in love with Los Angeles in ways that may surprise them.
Each of the forty-four walks in this book is rated for distance, duration, and difficulty on a scale of one to five, with five being most difficult compared to the other walks in this book. The measurements are all estimated. A fit person will have no difficulty at all with a five. A fast walker or a hiker in a hurry will be able to complete the loops faster than I did. A slow walker, really soaking it all in, might find that a forty-five-minute walk takes an hour.
There isn’t, however, a way to measure joy and pleasure. I hope those using this book find as much value in it as I have while preparing it.
A view of Grand Park and City Hall from downtown L.A.’s Music Center.
WALK #1
DOWNTOWN L.A. HISTORY WALK
DISTANCE: 2.75 miles
DIFFICULTY: 2
DURATION: 1 hour 30 minutes
DETAILS: Free and metered street parking. Dogs on leash allowed. Metro buses #4, #10, #40, and #442.
This is a walk through history, starting with Los Angeles’s roots and concluding with its newest city park and biggest downtown cathedral.
Begin this journey at Union Station on Alameda Street, near the heart of L. A.’s historic center. Before starting the walk, take some time to enjoy the station. Once a dominant feature of the city skyline, its exterior was often the cinematic establishing shot that told audiences they were in L. A. The interior has a lot to see. Admire the beamed, hand-painted ceilings, marble floors, cork walls, brass fittings, and leather seats. There are places to eat and drink here, too, from the high-end Traxx restaurant and bar located at the front of the station to the lower-end snacks further inside.
Across the breezeway, check out the once-bustling restaurant space that used to be a Harvey House, one of the many restaurants operated by businessman Fred Harvey in the early railroad days in stations across the West. The space is now home to the Imperial Western Brewing Company.
Also, don’t miss the main ticket counter area, which is no longer in use. If it looks familiar, that’s because it is frequently used in movies and TV shows.
Leave the station through its original main entrance, heading west. Follow the sidewalk to Alameda Street and turn right. Walk to the corner at Cesar E. Chavez Avenue, and turn left to cross Alameda. Once on the other side, turn left again, into Olvera Street.
This is Los Angeles’s tribute to its Mexican roots—a block of “authentic” Mexican shops and restaurants that isn’t really authentic at all. Although the block contains what is said to be the city’s oldest house—the Avila Adobe, built in 1818—the street itself, and all its shops and “Mexican” flavor, were the invention of local doyenne Christine Sterling, who sought to restore the street to its imaginary Mexican origins. (It does, in fact, have old Mexican roots. Agustin Olvera was an early Los Angeles judge, and Francisco Avila was an early city mayor.) Using prison labor and donations from citizens like Los Angeles Times publisher Harry Chandler, Sterling oversaw the 1928 construction of Olvera Street, which has remained more or less intact ever since.
Enjoy the ficus and pepper tree shade as you walk up the lone block, filled with the scents of tanned leather, fresh tortillas, and toys and trinkets made from Chinese plastic. At the top of the street, you’ll find Los Angeles Plaza Park. Under a massive shade tree is a fine bandstand that often hosts musical events. Circle around the back of the bandstand, then bend right, aiming for the stretch of North Main Street that runs between Pico House on your left and the Garnier and Brunswig buildings on your right.
This is more old city history. Pico House was a luxury hotel, built in 1869 by Pio Pico, the last Mexican governor of the territory of Southern California, who used the architect that designed the Cathedral of Saint Vibiana. The Garnier and Brunswig buildings, both from the 1880s, were also important early structures for the growing metropolis.
Continue south on Main, past Pico House, and past the big black-and-white historic pictures inside the Plaza de Cultura y Artes building. Cross Arcadia Street, cross over the Santa Ana Freeway (U.S. 101), and then cross Aliso Street. As you go, admire the lovely City Hall building rising before you. Even more than Union Station, it was the identifying feature of the Los Angeles landscape, and should be familiar to anyone who has ever watched movies shot from the 1930s to the 1960s. Continue half a block, then turn in to the small park on your left.
The large, three-legged beast in the plaza is what’s left of the Triforium. Built in 1975, this sixty-foot-tall whimsy was meant to sense the presence of pedestrians below and perform for them, using music played on a carillion of seventy-nine glass bells and a light show displayed on stained glass panels. This public artwork had a short life, and has not functioned for many years.
Over
