L-A-LA EL EL A! L.A.!

Like Bram Van 3000's song, but with less drinking!  We made it to Venice beach around 11am after (luckily) getting off the highway.  About half an hour after snacking and talking at the beginning of the bike path there was a car accident at the major intersection.  And man were the cops and tow trucks on it fast to clear this major artery into L.A.

We followed the bike path along the beach and I at least had fantasies in my mind of a sandy Bay Watch like scene awaiting me, but the wind had picked up and the beach goers ranged from clothed, to wearing warm fuzzy coats and hoods.  Disappointed.
Still the area is an exciting contrast of dirty transients that sleep on the beach, and wealthy starlets (usually porn starlets, lol) there just to be seen on the scene.

Erin enjoyed a $1 float, and I bought her a new bathing suit (of questionable quality - dam!) and then we continued our short bike ride towards the couch we were planning to stay on that night.  The bike path frustratingly winds bath and forth on the empty beach and the wind had picked up so that we were expending a lot of energy not making a lot of progress.  Erin was feeling tired and couldn't keep up as Bryan and Maggie raced ahead.  We ended up going all the way to the end of the strip of beaches at Redondo.  Close to our couch, but sans Bryan and Maggie!  We biked inland to the highway and got directions to a McDonalds (there had been talk of internet and $9 for 40 McNuggets) that was the wrong direction for progress but closer than the alternative McDonalds.   We cycled back there and found Bryan and Maggie about to leave in our direction!  Time for some nuggets and some cohesive city riding.

Cities are pretty fun to ride in as traffic is often stopped at lights and things that are effectively only a suggestion for cyclists.  In fact, in California an all way stop is only a yield for a cyclist!  Great!  There's also a law in California we heard that cars have to pass more than a meter away from a cyclist.  Well that would be nice, anyway.

We arrived at Ed's neighbourhood around the designated time of 5pm but couldn't find his place as described.  The adress was a 243## number, but the streets jumped from 242 to 244.  What the heck? We canvassed the neighbourhood and waited at a house that was close to the right number and otherwise fit the description.  Ed arrived a bit late (rode the bus rather than driving one of his two trucks), and had sent an update email with the corrected typo address which Maggie had not received.

What a splendid host!  We cooked dinner for him, enjoyed stories about his trips to the baja and watched the game (football, we were hoping for an upset victory).  Ed is a fireman and, on the weekends, a whitewater rafting guide.  Fun!

Tomorrow, we cruise out of LA, through Long Beach, and back into the parks!