Travel Photography > Desert Southwest > Los Angeles River

We continued along the river into Pasadena, a well-manicured series of estates adjacent to downtown Los Angeles. Taking to Foothill Boulevard, a long stretch of road, which hugs the base of the San Gabriel Mountains, and roughly imitates the river, we climbed in elevation. In just fifty-three miles, the Los Angeles River drops in elevation more than the Mississippi does on its entire route. Because of this, the river can be vicious, fast, and can crush a truck with its power.

We trudged through a golf course by foot; stationary people were peering at us under the shade of their golf carts, eyeing at us like we didn't belong here on the only escape to the headwaters of the river.

We walked the gentle ridge of the Los Angeles River's first dam, and down into a marshy bed of sand and water; through the bamboo, and out into the shadow of the iron claws of the dam. "Watch out for the pit bull," Alvin said as I made my way into the water. But by this time, a big ugly thing was charging me; splashing through the water with its evil eyes and spiked collar.

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