If you saw “Terminator 2: Judgment Day,” you have some familiarity with the LA River.
I’d wanted to ride the LA River Bike Path for some time.
I’d had some resistance for some time.
I was told it was sketchy and unsafe.
Repetitively.
It’s too close to gangland, John said.
We’d be the minority.
I thought he was a tad judgmental and maybe a big baby.
I poo-pooed the warnings.
We went.
Some spots looked like apocalyptic movie sets.
I thought there’d be many encampments, but it was rougher and denser than I had imagined.
Humanity in gut-wrenching scenes.
I snaked through clusters of young men on gas-powered minibikes who gave me virtually no margin, causing me to come far too close to the concrete edge.
I peddled faster.
What got my attention, maybe more than anything else, was passing one of them wearing a bulletproof vest.
That and the packs of what appeared to be stray Rottweilers and Pit Bulls drinking from said “river.”
Upon our safe return, recalling the bulletproof vest, I did a little online research using the keywords “LA River murders” and then took a Reddit deep dive.
John was right.
It was not a safe place.
However, since then, I keep thinking back to a moment that took me by more surprise than anything else:
With the Downtown LA skyscrapers in view, we had neared the end of our road (our turn-around spot), where John suggested we take a nostalgic detour and do a drive-by of the little church we had both known from childhood. It was close to the path, just a few blocks.
It couldn’t be more dangerous than where we’d already been.
As I exited the path onto a dirt embankment to head toward the church, I encountered someone who, at first glance, scared me more than anything or anyone else.
He looked into my eyes and gently said, God bless you.
