Cinema News: Exploring the L.A. River’s soft, sandy segments

October 23, 2025 | View in browser

Sunset at the Glendale Narrows of the Los Angeles River.

By Jaclyn Cosgrove

Staff Writer

I felt like a child again as I wandered down to the riverbank to look at crawdads.

"Oh, the L.A. River folks posted on Instagram about this, but I didn't know they were right here," my walking partner said.

Dozens of bright red crustaceans swam and fought and hid in the warm shallow water of the Glendale Narrows of the Los Angeles River. A Cooper's hawk swooped down to grab a branch presumably for a nearby nest. A black-crowned night heron accidentally dropped its lunch, perhaps a frog, back into the water.

Later, I'd witness Canada geese arriving in formation before landing on the river for their evening dinner and rest.

In all honesty, I hadn't expected such abundant life less than a quarter of a mile from the 5 Freeway. But that's what you'll discover along the sandy, soft bottom segments of the L.A. River where nature rejected concrete and instead built back life.

Jason Wise, an L.A.-based conservationist, was my walking partner who spotted the crawdaddies, as I was raised to call them in Oklahoma. I had asked Wise, who regularly hosts educational hikes, if we could walk along the river and explore one of its soft bottom segments.

Since moving to L.A., I'd wondered why certain parts of the river were lush and beautiful. My wife and I had biked a few times from Koreatown to the river trail, usually eating at Spoke Bicycle Cafe. Why did this segment look like an actual river and not the concrete flood channel featured in the 1978 film "Grease"?

We'll get to that precise answer, but first, a bit of geography and history.

The L.A. River has existed for thousands of years and was the site of Indigenous villages for more than 1,000 years. It is, in its current iteration, a 51-mile "engineered waterway" whose banks were channelized with concrete starting in 1938 and finished by 1960, according to the county public works department.

Three portions of the river, though, remain unpaved:

The Sepulveda Basin in the San Fernando Valley.
The Glendale Narrows, a 7.4-mile stretch through Glendale, Atwater Village, Elysian Park and Los Angeles.
The Long Beach estuary.

Wise and I met at Elysian Valley Gateway Park, which provides access to the natural streambed.

As we watched its waters flow by, Wise explained that the L.A. River was a wild, free-flowing river that often changed course.

For example, as Times columnist Patt Morrison pointed out: "From today's downtown, it coursed west and southwest all over the Los Angeles Basin until around 1825, when another flood redirected it toward where it flows today, more or less south from the original pueblo."

This was a problem for L.A.'s developers. And not only that, Wise said, but the river flooded seasonally throughout the 1930s. At the same time, L.A. was growing rapidly, with lots of money to be made in building industry and homes as close to the river as possible.

In 1938, L.A. experienced a great flood — which in today's meteorological lingo, we'd explain as essentially back-to-back atmospheric rivers hitting in 4½ days, bringing about 16 inches of rain, which is on average how much the area gets in a year. At least 96 people died (although experts say the number is probably higher).

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The flood was the impetus for controlling the river, especially given that officials wanted to keep building near it.

At that time, two plans emerged, Wise said. This moment, dear Wilder, would be a good one to correct if you perhaps have a time machine on hand.

In a report titled "Parks, Playgrounds and Beaches for the Los Angeles Region," designers recommended the region create an "emerald necklace," or a series of parks along waterways, including the L.A River, the Rio Hondo, the San Gabriel River, Ballona Creek and Compton Creek. Officials could engineer the river with slopes to better handle flooding, and parks would soak up water and replenish the water table.

Areas near the river still might flood, and "we might have to replace some picnic tables or a playground, but otherwise, the whole city has all these parks, and a connection to nature and our wild river that is actually the foundation of the city, the reason that L.A. exists," Wise said.

We didn't do that.

Instead, officials asked the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers for a faster, simpler (and, in other words, cheaper) solution, Wise said. "Not that it was cheap to dig up and concretize a river, but if you locked this into place ... you can then develop right up to the edge," Wise said.

But in certain places, including the Glendale Narrows, the plan didn't work. The Glendale Narrows has a higher water table than other areas of the L.A. River, and the engineers realized the concrete wouldn't set because of the high amount of water and springs bubbling up.

With the soil exposed, seeds could take root, plants returned, and wildlife came back. The ecosystem, as best it could, rebounded.

"It was an amazing mistake," Wise said of the Corps' inability to lay concrete over the entire L.A. River. "I'm so grateful that the Army Corps screwed that up."

And now, there's momentum to rethink the landscape of our river's design.

My first question about that was: "Would we have to tolerate flooding again?" Wise told me that's a common misconception. For one, it's arguably impossible to "rewild" the entire river.

"You can't get rid of this right now because there are homes right there," Wise said. "We can't completely undo the mistakes of the past, but we can find a way to create a better future and learn from those mistakes. The best thing to do with a mistake is to learn from it and do things better. It's harder now, but what can we do to bring some wild back?"

A few days after my visit with Wise, I returned to the L.A. River for sunset. I parked again at Elysian Valley Gateway Park and walked about a third of a mile south to an area of the river where heaps of rocks make it easier to cross the still-concrete part of the river to reach the natural area.

And then for an hour, I stood in awe as a concert of birds performed their evening serenade. White-faced ibises stood perfectly balanced on rocks among the calm river. Great blue herons passed by overhead. American coots submerged themselves underwater in search of food. A few large fish popped up to eat bugs.

Then I heard honking. Not the kind from the nearby 5 Freeway, which for this moment in time, didn't exist. Four Canada geese appeared above in formation, swooping down to land together on the water. They floated over to the bank, just 15 feet or so from me, where one goose stood watch, protecting its three flock members as they ate and rested. I felt lucky to witness that, like I was living in a Mary Oliver poem.

It grew darker, and I soon left — only to hear more honking as nine more geese landed.

On my way home, traffic felt less obnoxious. My empty fridge felt less of a problem. Even the Trader Joe's parking lot left me unaffected. Instead, I felt connected to not only our river and our city, but to the humans around me. As Wise reminded me:

The L.A. River "is the foundation of the city. Nature is all around us, and it's even there within the city. There should be more of it ... and through that connection, we realize we are nature. We are also animals on this planet, that everything is connected. We're all one big living, breathing organism. Nature is a conduit to the rest of community and supporting each other and building each other up and helping each other out."

3 things to do

1. Keep P-22's memory alive in L.A. 🦁🕯️
The #SaveLACougars campaign will host its annual P-22 Day Festival from 11 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. Saturday in Shane's Inspiration (4800 Crystal Springs Drive) in Griffith Park. The event honors the legacy of P-22, a male mountain lion who inspired countless Angelenos into advocating for our local wildlife. Several local conservation and Indigenous groups will host tables with information about how attendees can get more involved in protecting our public lands. Guests can also meet the people behind the Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing, take home native plants, enjoy art, crafts and food-trucks and check out the latest P-22 merchandise. Learn more at savelacougars.org.

2. Prowl for the phantasmal in Pasadena
L.A. Fright Club, a horror-themed fitness group, will host its spooky hike club at 7 a.m. Sunday at the Lower Arroyo Seco trail. The group will meet at the trailhead in the San Pascual Stables parking lot (221 San Pascual Ave. in South Pasadena). Costumes are encouraged. Learn more at the group's Instagram page.

3. Embrace the eerie in Elysian Park
We Explore Earth will host Forest Bridges Day Camp, a Halloween-themed community celebration, from noon to 8 p.m. Saturday in Elysian Park. Attendees can participate in guided hikes, workshops, pumpkin carving, cornhole and more. Participants should bring a blanket, camping chair and/or pillows for the movie "The Nightmare Before Christmas" at 5:30 p.m. Tickets are available at eventbrite.com.

The must-read

In just 31 days, Spanish mountaineer Kilian Jornet recently climbed all 72 summits in the contiguous United States that stand over 14,000 feet tall — a feat similar to climbing Mt. Whitney 2½ times per day, every day, for a month, writes Times staff writer Jack Dolan. Jornet's journey included California's "Norman's 13," which is 13 summits over 14,000 feet in remote alpine terrain between Lone Pine and Bishop. My first question, reading Jack's piece was: "Why?" Jornet said he doesn't do it for the glory. "I do these things because I love them, because they bring me joy and happiness, not because I think they're very important," he said.

Happy adventuring,

P.S.

For fans of one of California's silliest native animals, I have great news! Reservations opened Monday for guided elephant seal tours at Año Nuevo State Park, which is about 6½ hours northwest of L.A. Every December, these massive sea mammals migrate to the beaches of Año Nuevo for their breeding and birthing season. There is fighting — drama! — along with lots of vocalizing and "galumphing," the park said on its Instagram page. To reserve your spot for a tour, visit this website, and from the "category" dropdown menu, choose "guided seal walks" before choosing which day you'd like to go. Reservations are available 56 days (eight weeks) in advance of your desired walk date.

For more insider tips on Southern California's beaches, trails and parks, check out past editions of The Wild. And to view this newsletter in your browser, click here.