Random Thoughts: On Making Runyon Canyon More Human Friendly

My photos from the past couple of years hiking in Los Angeles

On more than one occasion in the past several years that I’ve been hiking Los Angeles’ Runyon Canyon, I’ve either almost killed or badly injured myself. And if that wasn’t bad enough, on a few rare occasions, I could have quite easily committed vehicular manslaughter. Now granted, a hiker assumes a certain amount of liability when they engage on a hike. I mean we are responsible for our own bodies and there are trails at Runyon Canyon that if you aren’t wearing the right shoes, have decent health insurance, a working cell phone, or a dog to nudge your limp body back to the bottom, I’d just recommend avoiding all together. Nobody wants to fall down the stairs at Runyon Canyon or get caught going up the canyon during the summer at high noon, not if they want to live to tell about it that is. But that’s not my issue. Nope, my issue involves nature, and not the scenery growing in Runyon Canyon.

It’s no easy thing to wake up extra early each morning, get dressed, spend 45 minutes driving 6 miles (this is Los Angeles I’m talking about), another 20 minutes searching for a parking space, only to be greeted by the aroma of freshly laid dog shit baking under the hot California sun, and lots of it. It’s even more heinous when you have a just brewed $3.70 Skinny Vanilla Latte in your hands. And even though I quietly curse the dog owners who are either to privileged, lazy, busy, or to illiterate to read the many posted signs about picking up after their precious Buddy or Princess, I can’t help but be a little envious of them…the canines that is.

Looks can be deceiving. You see a Black girl with red locs running down Runyon Canyon, iPod in ear, drenched in sweat, and you think, wow, she’s really getting her workout on this morning. In reality what you see is a Black girl with red locs running for dear life to get to her car before her bladder explodes. Big difference.

Unlike man’s (and woman’s) best friend, I don’t have the luxury of lifting my left leg and urinating or spreading my legs and dropping a load when nature calls. Although at times, I wish I did. This would include the time when I almost went flying down the stairs at Runyon Canyon in an attempt rush back to my car where I then had to manage controlling my bladder muscles while driving to the nearest open business with a public restroom. It was so bad one time, that I seriously contemplated just peeing in my car and going to the car wash and getting it detailed.

When nature calls, for some of us, we need to answer that call quick fast and in a hurry, even when you’re hiking in a public park. And as much as I hate the thought of having to use a public restroom in a park, when nature calls I can get awfully humble, especially if it means that I don’t put my life or the lives of others in danger in my pursuit of the nearest restroom.

I know that Runyon Canyon is a dog park and humans are allowed in as means to an end, somebody has to walk us, right? I just figure with all of the extra revenue from Los Angeles being the celebrity funeral tourism capital of America, our recent city sales tax hike, and over zealous parking enforcement officers, there should be something left over to install a restroom (or two) in a public park in the name of public safety. And just to prove that I take the city’s budget crisis seriously and an attempt to meet the City halfway, I am not even asking for toilet paper, just the facility. With all of the hikers at Runyon Canyon, I am sure that we can handle supplying our own toilet paper.

Until then, my fellow Runyon Canyon hikers beware. When you see me running, step aside or be pushed aside. Nature’s calling and I’ve got to answer. It’s nothing personal.

Suggested Signs for Runyon Canyon’s Absence of a Public Restroom for Unaware Hikers