Hikes 11C and 13: Matthews Beach

Dear Diary,

I'm sorry it's taken me so long, but this is the last page about my January hikes that I have to write.  It also covers the second hike I took housed.

Hike 11C - January 22

As I left Burke-Gilman Playground Park on January 22, the sun was already beginning to go down.  Fortunately, the Burke-Gilman Trail goes, well, not straight, but anyway directly from BGPP to Matthews Beach, so it was a straightforward trip.  All the same, I was racing against time, and ultimately lost.

I didn't even try to photograph the best face of the restroom building.  Those are "sanican"s that are there, but in this case the map I was checking also claimed the restroom was open.  True, I don't remember whether it said one restroom was open, or two were, and that matters because:

one restroom is still boarded up.  The other is not, but I was unable to open it.

I figured maybe someone was camping in it.  It was only 5:50 P.M., after all, and so far too early for a restroom to be locked for the night.  So I waited for someone from the Seattle Department of Parks and Recreation's maintenance department to show up to lock this one solitary restroom door in far northeastern Seattle that should need locking.

See, this building actually has two pairs of restrooms in it.  I've just shown you, dear Diary, the closed doors of the all-gender single stall restrooms, but what about the multi-user rooms that also feature showers, on the other side?  Well, those are only supposed to open in summer, like the Bathhouse Theater's in Green Lake Park, but unlike those, these don't also open in winter:

So Matthews Beach only had one room meant to be open.  Meadowbrook Playfield had none.  It was probably parks personnel staffing Meadowbrook Pool's restroom access, but probably not maintenance people.  Little Brook Park has the only restroom (singular) in Lake City, it was closed...  Basically, that restroom in Matthews Beach was the only one between Magnuson Park and Northacres Playfield that was supposed to be open.  But it's vulnerable to camping, and I found it locked.

So I stayed, growing increasingly uncomfortable, until about 7:50 P.M.  No parks personnel drove anywhere near the restroom building in that time.  I eventually had to use a "sanican" myself, and having taken off my mask while waiting, forgot to put it back on.  This led to a conversation with a fellow homeless man, a friendlier conversation than one would expect given my mistake.  But still no parks personnel.

After I gave up, I started pushing my cart, which had performed splendidly in the race despite our losing it, down Sand Point Way.  About halfway, right on schedule, the cart's right front wheel jumped off its spokes, just as I could have expected.  I didn't understand the way the back left wheel was malfunctioning, so I didn't know whether changing the wheel would fix the problem, but I did know that I'd had two good front wheels on the cart I'd thrown away about two weeks before.  Oops.  That left back wheel responded to the situation by behaving itself for an hour or so before getting back to its waywardness.

I lived on the streets of Seattle for about six years lugging everything I thought I needed around in satchels that were exposed to the rain and that I couldn't put down while it rained.  I wasn't sure I could stand to go back to that way of life, but more to the point, I needed to carry a lot more during the lockdowns than I had previously.  Sanitiser, detergent, paper towels, lots more books ...  By this point I'd already been co-operating for some time with Maia Robbins, who organised the GoFundMe that's now housed me, but this was the first time I had to face seriously the fact that I couldn't realistically continue living homeless, whether or not the GoFundMe went anywhere.  Not while COVID-19 shut everything down.

So, dear Diary, I didn't hike for you after that until I was housed.  The first hike I took then, hike 12, is the subject of another page, but I did eventually get back to Matthews Beach.

I'd had plenty of time to think about it.  I could see that a parks maintenance guy might think it made no sense to drive all that way to unlock one room, that would probably be blocked by a camper anyway, and then lock it again that night.  I could sympathise.

But that's looking at things exactly backwards.  It is not appropriate to sympathise with the idea that the less someone does, the less one should expect them to do.  Meadowbrook Playfield's restrooms apparently didn't have to close.  Why, then, were they closed?  The shower restrooms at Matthews Beach are in the same building as the ones that were supposed to be open.  And they presumably have access to hot water.  So they're quite obviously winter-safe; why weren't they opened?  Reduce the options to the two all-gender single-stall rooms, and board one of those up, and it can look realistic to forget the other.  But the parks department had no reason at all, in forgetting the other, to forget a significant percentage of the city.

Hike 13 - April 3

Anyway, I went back to Matthews Beach.  I didn't arrive much earlier - 5:30 P.M. - but it was enough later in the year that the sun hadn't yet set.

I stopped along the way to take photos of the nearby bit of the Thornton Creek complex.  Since Matthews Beach is where Thornton Creek enters Lake Washington, the creek there is probably the main, unified creek, but I haven't worked on your "Land and Water" series for months, dear Diary, and am not sure.  In any event, I'd taken pictures of it months earlier and then deleted them by mistake, so although I'd written about "Chinook Passage Natural Area" May 6 in "Go North, Aging Man!" and December 1 in "To the Beaches!", I'd yet to show you, dear Diary, a photo.  Well, here are three.

In several places, gaps in the woods that weren't there last May, as best I recall, allow one to see inside the forest a fair way.  My previous attempt to capture that effect in a photo was a dismal failure, and I'm not sure this is any better, but:

Another such gap opened up a view of the creek, although I'm not at all sure my photo actually caught that:

Although it's been several years since the park got a more specific name, its sign hasn't been updated:

Anyway, I finally got back to Matthews Beach, to find the same situation as before, only sunlit.  This time I made extra sure by staying close to the restroom doors - the ones that were supposedly being unlocked and locked this winter - as much as I could, and almost always staying within sight of them.  No parks personnel had shown up by the time I left around 7:45 P.M.

I did move away from the specific door I was observing to take pictures, this time, of all the things I was supposed to on the January hikes.  The building's best face, first.  This building, like the beach one at Golden Gardens, is so extremely wide, or long, that I had to back very far up to take this shot, and I'm not sure how much of the building can actually be seen:

The restrooms that were supposed to be open:

Oh, good.  I'd hoped to show the latch in the photo just above, and it looks like that worked.

The restrooms that weren't supposed to be open, except in an alternate universe in which Seattle's government had thought about how best to serve the public, and I do mean the public - Matthews Beach isn't in an area where homeless people could plausibly live - anyway, the restrooms that weren't supposed to be open this winter, but should've been:

The unobtrusive back door to that women's room that I found for the first time that night:

When I caught them in their lies about Sandel Playground and Loyal Heights Community Center, the places where they'd shown restrooms open that were not, in fact, open, without "sanican"s, the map's makers hurried to correct those.  Of course, the lies about restrooms being open with "sanican"s present weren't really lies, by the warped thinking behind the map, because its fine print didn't actually say those rooms were open; the map wasn't corrected in this respect all winter.  But as far as I know, the map's fine print did say Matthews Beach's actual restrooms were open all winter, and as best I can tell, none were.  Sometime in the two months I was away, someone could have asked the maintenance people whether they were really driving all that way, and fixed the map.  I sent the information by e-mail, long before telling you tonight, dear Diary.  But nobody bothered.

An alternative hypothesis:  Traffic in northeastern Seattle this pandemic winter was so unusually bad that the maintenance guys had to lock Matthews Beach at 5 P.M. to get it done at all.  Um, right.  I want some of that green cheese the moon is made of, too.

The "sanican"s by day:

A sign that I photographed as I left, so I'd know how late it had been, that someone had taped over enough of that it communicated nothing at all:

Would that that map had met the same fate.

Good night, dear Diary.  Tomorrow I hope to tell you about hikes 12 and 14, both made while housed, and neither one really related to checking the map any more.  Until then.