I love going to the local farmers market every Sunday. Rain or shine, at some point between 8:00 am and 1:00 pm, you will find me there. While it's the promise of consistently good produce that keeps me coming back, it's also the sense of community, seeing familiar faces, knowing where my food is coming from. It just feels good, and I don't know how better to express it.
I walked there today, about a good quarter-mile from my house. After this weekend, I just wanted to make sure the ol' legs were still responding to messages from the brain. That and the weather was just great. Taking in the bright colors of the flora and fauna springing to life helped a lot as well. I normally ride my bicycle to the farmers market, but I'll have to admit that sometimes it's a bit of a pain. Not always, definitely not if I get there before 10:00. But today I got there at about 11:30 and, understandably, everyone wanted to get their goods for the week.
The Encino Farmers Market is actually met by a bike path and has signs surrounding it that encourage the use of bicycles:
The great people over at the Midnight Ridazz community have even put up one of these "Caution! Pass With Care" signs on the southeast side of Louise/Victory:
What makes me wonder is why with all the bike-friendly signage in the vicinity the only available bicycle parking is this (this being behind some petition tables positioned at a small entrance to the market, well away from where could be considered remotely accessible)?
Add that when the traffic getting in and out looks like this:
...and that the state of the pathway looks somewhat like this (one of the good portions):
...it all can be made out to be something of a "why do I even bother" kind of situation. But I bother anyway, as it's a highlight to my week that I would rather take part in than not. Granted I walked today and there was a lot more honking and cars turning left instead of right out of the driveway than normal, but it was still a delight. The woman I get cara cara oranges from gave me a free avocado. I am not complaining.
My roommate has written emails about the bicycle parking situation, but that was about six months ago. Until then, we're making do (and enjoying the delicious fruits and vegetables while we're at it).
West Hollywood wasn't always my home, but as far as I'm concerned, it is now and always will be. Still trying to find my place, here, within, and everywhere I roam. This blog explores that, personally, professionally, culturally, and everywhere in between.