Seeing Sierra Madre

The other day I enjoyed the company of:
Sierra Madre,
Bean Town coffee,
and
Adele,
not necessarily in that order.

Adele is the host/writer/photographer/historian at Seeing Sierra Madre: One Photo at a Time. She and I met at Bean Town for a cup, then headed north on Baldwin Avenue with our cameras. Right away, we came to this cute shop called Belle's Nest. Take a look at their website and just let the slide show play for you.

I might post more Sierra Madre pics from time to time. Adele and I aren't territorial. Meanwhile, check out her blog. She includes a lot of local history in her posts. I enjoy seeing Sierra Madre through her eyes.

Tempt

Here's another one of those spots I probably shouldn't tell you about.

At the foot of Bailey Canyon in Sierra Madre you'll find Bailey Canyon Park. West of the park is a paved road. Walk north, toward the mountains.

You'll pass alongside the Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center. You can't see much of the Center from this road. On your right is a dry reservoir, which I guess is the Grove Street Reservoir because Bailey Canyon Park is at the end of Grove Street.

When the road ends, if you continue north along the path you'll head up the mountain. But before the path, a little bridge crosses a wash and leads you to a quiet, sun-dappled clearing. The first time I found myself in this clearing, no swing hung from a tree.

I am tempted to remove it.

Seeing Theater in Sierra Madre

I had tickets to see Incident at Vichy at the Sierra Madre Playhouse the other night. John is in pre-production and can't tear himself away from the desk. I knew who I wanted to invite in his stead: Adele of Seeing Sierra Madre: One Photo at a Time.

Sierra Madre is a charming corner of the San Gabriel Valley. Adele is excellent company. My friend Karyn O'Bryant is a fine actor and so is everyone else in the cast of Incident at Vichy (that's one reason why it was a Critic's Choice in the Los Angeles Times). Add them together and it was a great evening.

Across the street from the Playhouse there's this cocktail joint called The Buccaneer. You can see the Playhouse marquee reflected in the window. Adele and I didn't go in because we were both tired, but the place has a reputation for fun. Snotty Scotty and the Hankies play there, so I don't know what more you could ask.

Sierra Madre is Adele's territory (not that any of us are territorial around here), so I'll let Adele give you the pic from the theater (doesn't Karyn look marvelous?). But we had such a good evening. Many, many thanks to Karyn and the cast and crew of Incident at Vichy and the Sierra Madre Playhouse.

Not That Kind of Passion

When I need a break I go for a hike in the hills. But some situations call for drastic measures. When it gets that bad you need a complete departure from civilization.

I remember going on church retreats when I was a pre-teen. They were fun, like going to camp. On one retreat I had a crush on Brian. He put his arm around me during the educational film strip, then broke my heart when he put his arm around Darleen at the campfire. It was a stressful weekend.

I believe they're offering an entirely different experience at the Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center in the hills above Sierra Madre.

Their lovely website makes a retreat look so inviting I'm almost tempted to leave my iPhone behind for a weekend. On the site there's advice about how to make the most of the experience, with ideas ranging from the ethereal (how best to use your spiritual time) to the earth-bound (wear comfortable shoes for strolling the grounds). And the price is very reasonable.

The virtual tour is a bit...busy. (You'll just have to imagine that the grounds are peaceful.) But from Bailey Canyon, where I hiked high above the Center on my own mini-retreat the other day, a big retreat at Mater Dolorosa looked like heaven.

Do you think one weekend would be enough time for me to get over the whole Brian-Darleen thing?

Empty Mailbox

In attempts to save paper I've set most of my bills to arrive electronically. I pay them that way, too. Via the U.S. Mail I receive a lot of stuff I don't want--advertising, mostly. I can't remember a time in my life when I've purchased a product from a direct mail ad; all that stuff goes directly into the recycle bin.

Snail mail hasn't lost its value for me. Until my employers give in and choose direct deposit, I still receive my paychecks that way. And I like my mailman. To keep him working, I mail the occasional greeting card.

But I can't remember the last time I received a hand-written letter. Nor have I written one, sealed it in an envelope and mailed it to a friend.

Tangled Weblog

I took this shot in Sierra Madre yesterday because it was colorful and fun. Karin (the Altadenahiker) and I were meeting at Bean Town to try the soup because Cafe Observer had told us it was good. (Turns out he was right).

Karin had just finished her ceramics class. If you've ever checked her blog you may know it's a new skill she's learning, and she admires Pasadena Adjacent's expertise. There was a frog challenge going on at one point. PA created a frog drawing, then Karin (the Altadenahiker) incorporated it into a ceramic tile. Pretty soon Laurie of Glimpses of South Pasadena posted about it on her other blog, Glancing About. It may still be my turn to come up with something froggish in response.

As Karin and I returned to our cars, she pointed out this building, the one I'd photographed before meeting her at Bean Town. "That's where I take my ceramics class," she said. I looked for frogs on the premises, but found none.

Bean Town (#3 in a Quest)

As part of my quest for the ideal coffee shop, here's one for Karin, the Altadenahiker. Her favorite coffee shop in the Pasadena area isn't in Pasadena at all. It's Bean Town in Sierra Madre.

Our Karin has excellent taste. I'm not crazy about this photo; it doesn't convey the comfy, cozy homeyness of Bean Town. The decor is eclectic, with old signs, vintage furniture and exposed brick walls. The service is friendly and fun. The music playing the other day was orchestral, which I don't mind because it doesn't interfere with concentration (or conversation, if that's your preference). And the coffee is downright tasty.

When I first arrived Monday afternoon, though the outside tables were crowded, inside I had several tables to choose from. As the afternoon progressed, however, the place filled up. A woman approached and asked politely if she could share my table. I didn't want to be rude so I said yes, thinking "I'll never be able to concentrate with another person here." I was wrong. She sat down, we exchanged pleasantries, she opened her laptop and got to work. A perfectly workable situation.

I did ask her, "Is it often this crowded?"

"Usually lots of laptops," she said.

To sum up Bean Town: great coffee, great atmosphere. Free Wifi, though it was really slow at first and I gave up on it. I don't know if the speed picked up later. It's a bit far for me to drive on a regular basis so it probably won't become my daily grind. But I like Bean Town. And Sierra Madre loves it.

Chantry Flat

John and I both had the afternoon free yesterday, and since Boz had the day off too we decided to try a new trail. We drove through neighboring Sierra Madre and up to Chantry Flat in Big Santa Anita Canyon.

It was extra cool and cloudy, driving off casual hikers. Not much goes on there on a Wednesday anyway, which suits us. Instead of the popular Sturtevant Falls trail, we opted for the trail to Hermit Falls simply because it's not paved. It took us deep down into the shady canyon, where we came upon the small waterfall and three cabins, at least one of which was occupied and marked "private." The noisiest thing there was the water.

I think it's good for us humans to spend time surrounded by nature's disorderly shapes, to get away from computer screens, office cubicles, shiny kitchens and soft sofas, and to get out among rocks, trees and leaves for a while. It reorders our brains, sets us right again.

This is a post I wish you could smell. Damp, fresh sage, still rooted in the ground: there's no aroma like it.

Sierra Madre Fire

For those who don't live around here: it smells like a campfire. The smoke permeates everything (the smell woke me this morning). The sky is white with it. Little flakes of ash float in the air like snow.

In the mountains above Sierra Madre, the pretty, Mayberry-esque community bordering Pasadena to the east, firefighters battle a brush fire that began Saturday. It still burns this morning. Over 1,000 people have evacuated their homes.

Yesterday in downtown Sierra Madre, people stood on the sidewalks and pointed toward the hills. Every conversation was about the fires. Command central was the Sierra Madre Recreation Center, its parking lot filled with vehicles from every surrounding fire department you could think of, including Pasadena's. A few firemen took a break at one end of the lot. At the other end, the news media set up their cameras to get the best views.

In this photo, a couple watches a fixed-wing air tanker drop orange flame retardant on the fire above their neighborhood. Across the street from the Recreation Center was this sign: