Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Old Grandfather
After a productive (and certainly thought-provoking) interview in Bakersfield today, I drove to Ontario. This is a 2.5 hour drive, more or less: 99 to the 5, 5 to the 210, 210 to the 57, 57 to the 10. In Southern California we name our freeways, but most of these are unnamed. 210 is the Foothill Freeway, and 10 is the San Bernardino, unless you’re heading west, and then it’s the Santa Monica. 57 is the Orange. Makes for interesting directions.
210 through Pasadena and Arcadia qualifies as Old Stomping Grounds, methinks, but you wouldn’t expect a freeway to provoke memories. (Not unless you count the 110, AKA Pasadena Freeway, which every car-lover MUST drive at least once in his life. Wikipedia says it “is now known as a dangerous, narrow, outdated roadway” — primarily because the curves were engineered for a max speed of 45 MPH, and some of the on ramps are so short as to be merging death traps. But driving the 110 is an experience no one ever forgets. You’ll need to have this on tape, though, for background music.)
So what’s so evocative about the 210? This mountain range, the San Gabriels (here’s the big version):
Mt. Wilson is the old man of the mountain, who unfortunately has his head in the clouds in this photo. I had forgotten how much this range had reminded me of a sleeping giant. These are childhood memories, largely tossed aside even by age 10 or 11; but yeah, as a kid I could see shoulders, gangling arms and legs, a bald head bristling with antennae (there are lots of radio towers up there — also hidden by clouds). As I inched along the 210 in 6:15 PM rush hour traffic, I kept sneaking peaks to the north. Mountain ranges are not constellations, after all. They change appearance by the mile, and I wanted to catch the profile I knew so well from the 60s.
And suddenly, there he was, Old Grandfather, silent and slate-blue, just as I had remembered him.
You can go home again, but what waits for you exists only in geologic time.
D.
Beautifull foto, Thanks for sharing 🙂
I remember one day while driving a friend around LA, we managed to drive on 10 different freeways, and, no, we did not make a special effort to do so. Only in LA!
The boys and I are looking forward to their first visit to D-land. Am I the only one left who remembers the phrase “That’s an E ticket ride!”?
Wow, I had to read on to find out that you weren’t coming to Ontario, Canada! What a different place. Won’t find those kinds of mountains around here! And I don’t think you southerners would like this COLD! Bugger!
🙂 Rella
If you are still in Arcadia I must recommend a dumpling house called Din Tai Fung. The prepare the dumplings in a whole different way. Ultrathin skins form some super high gluten flour I’m sure. Do not go if you have non tropical sprue.
http://dintaifungusa.com/
Wish I knew you were going to be in my neck of the woods. I live a few miles north of Ontario.
I can’t imagine living somewhere that I didn’t have these mountains at my back all the time. They are gorgeous, especially when covered in snow. Ever hiked Mt. Wilson? It’s a nice hike.
a dangerous, narrow, outdated roadway
Oh, that sounds like fun!
u know i have family in altedena and was out there almost veach year of my life
One of these days I’ll tell y’all about the time I slid halfway down Mt. Wilson on my butt. Those firebreaks are steep.
Gotta love high school hiking clubs 🙂