Details of southern NE Seattle, part I

Dear Diary,

Yesterday I really didn't want to go hiking, so I decided to start with the toughest job left:

Magnuson Community Center and Park

As you already know, I found two restroom pairs open, the usual two closed, and, also as usual, no water fountains running.  The central men's room has two toilets without stall doors, two urinals, one sink, one dryer, and one soap dispenser.  The beach men's room has two toilets without stall doors, two urinals, one sink, one dryer that I haven't found working since last May, and one soap dispenser.  Anyway, there were also other things worth telling you about.

Near the entrance this sign currently stands:

Now, way back in October, in "Water Fountains - An Interim Report", part II, I wrote as follows about the joys of approaching Magnuson Park:

| Of course there were also tears and the gnashing of teeth 

| along this route - not on 75th, and not in the neighbourhood 

| of switchbacks between 75th and Sand Point Way, but rather 

| in the epic struggle to walk the three blocks from 77th to 74th 

| Sts along Sand Point, a part of it not designed for the human form.

So never let it be said that the current city administration has done nothing for me.

The Cross Park Trail (officially the South Cross Park Trail, but since the North one doesn't cross nearly as much of the park, I don't care) reaches the lakefront path halfway between the beach restrooms and the "tower" ones.  I turned south towards the "tower" first.  Along the way I spotted a sign on a tree.  I like it when parks make it possible to identify plants - we'll see an example on a much bigger scale later - so I stopped to look at the sign:

What Green Seattle Partnership aren't telling you in this sign is that because this tree isn't native to Washington, they'd just love to have the chance to uproot it.  That's why they make an issue about its being native here at all; they just can't help themselves, even when they're trying to be politic and not tell people that the tree providing those people with shade ought not to be there.

Anyway, speaking of uprooting, I think something's changed at the "tower" since I first visited it, although I'm not sure just when.  The change is that the water fountain there is now considered a risky thing to approach:

I was going to say that it had never hurt me, but actually, when I first visited this fountain last May, I vaguely remember that the controls then existing, as opposed to now, actually sort of bit my thumb.  So I suppose this caution is warranted.

I put an extra photo into the Google Drive folder where I keep all the boring shots showing me trying to get water from water fountains and observing open (or, on this trip, closed) restroom doors.  Let me repeat it here:

That's one of the two shower controls for Magnuson Park's beach showers.  Notice that it can't be turned.  Neither can.  Now, this could be vandalism, even metal thievery, but I've been coming to believe that this kind of controls-disabling is actually done by employees of the Seattle Department of Parks and Recreation, and this is a case in point.  Why would metal thieves have stopped where they did?

The Magnuson Community Center is under construction:

and could thus be excused if it were ignoring the idea of "re-opening" as much as other Community Centers are.  But actually, when I went to its temporary home at the Brig (west entrance), this is what I found:

Much better than when I looked for it in January and couldn't find it.

Burke-Gilman Playground Park

Its water fountain, whose water I really like, is off.  Its restrooms are open.  The men's room has one toilet with a door that doesn't latch or lock, one urinal, two sinks, one dryer, and one soap dispenser.  The bench I liked still has not been repaired.

The Burke-Gilman Trail

It's been a long time since I showed you a video, dear Diary, so I thought I'd show you this one, although it's very short.  Its point is that the Burke-Gilman Trail's eastern water fountain, one of only two park water fountains running in southern "NE", is not in ideal shape.

It's dripping both at the control and from the opposite side of the fountain.

In order to make sure I actually got going, I left the house without taking time to pack food or water (though I did drink some before leaving).  To make matters worse, I got a bag of tortilla chips for breakfast, where I got the newspaper.  So I was pretty thirsty by this point, and, ignoring the damage, washed and filled both the empty bottles I was carrying there.  The water proved good, as it has been in the past.

Speaking of the past, this fountain is part of why I'm suspicious of controls vandalism.  Last winter the controls were visibly damaged, but when the fountains came back on the controls of this one were magically healed.

Since I had water, I didn't need to get it from University Village, and so was free to get my day's healthy food at Safeway.  But I didn't like what they had available, so went to Chipotle in U-Village anyway.

Ravenna Park

Neither men's room is open, only the lower women's room is open, and neither water fountain is running.

I took, and uploaded to Google Drive, two photos of the upper women's room door, one a close-up trying to show the latch that locks it.  I remember doing the same with the men's room but the photo doesn't seem to have taken.

The lower men's room door bears a sign blaming the closure on vandalism.  Both upper rooms' doors bear signs blaming the closure on all four choices:  seasonal closure, vandalism, malfunction or freeze, and maintenance needed.

Near the lower restrooms is a sandbox that constantly spills sand onto the pavement nearby.  A man was sweeping the sand away, blessed be he, and when he saw me taking pictures he introduced himself and explained, with rather slow speech, his job, involving programs at this park.  Someone better equipped than I should try to get this guy the fifteen minutes of fame he seems to want.

On my way between the lower and upper restrooms and water fountains, I stopped at a Little Free Library.  While I looked, a parks employee drove up and hailed me; it was the man I'd met at Northacres Park.  He'd regaled me with tales of closed restrooms then (one involved an unhappy rabbit in the women's beach restroom at Magnuson); this time, he just listed them to me.

Nevertheless, I took a big risk and ate my burrito and drank a bottle of water near the picnic shelter near the upper restrooms, not knowing where I could take care of the probable results.

Cowen Park

Neither restroom was open.  This time only the "malfunction or freeze" box was checked.  You may remember, dear Diary, that in "Some Odds and Ends" I mentioned having seen the men's room here open on March 23, with the water running.  Since UW, nearby, recorded 36° F on the Atmospheric Sciences Building rooftop as recently as April 11, a freeze wouldn't be much of a wonder.

The water fountain also isn't running.

University Heights Plaza

As I told you, dear Diary, I'd worried about the SPU sinks.  Well, in the U-District, they're still there:

Here's a close-up of their new decoration:

On my way to the next park, I stopped by the University branch of the Seattle Public Library.  It thinks there's plenty of time left before it has to worry about anything like "re-opening":

University Playground

This park was recently swept.  So, as at Albert Davis Park, this was the first time I could shoot a landscape at this park without catching a tent, so I did that, even though the landscape of this park is singularly uninteresting:

The restrooms remain closed without explanation.  I've heard two explanations of very different kinds from the two parks employees with whom I've talked the most (one, the guy mentioned above), so I don't know what to think.

On the way to the next park, I verified that the SPU sink is still at the encampment at I-5 and NE 45th St.  Remembering that I hadn't actually tried the one at U-Heights, I decided to photograph this one running:

And there I'd better stop, because I have more photos to show you, dear Diary, and this is sort of a natural stopping point.  Until later today, then.