Bitter Lake Reservoir Park Yesterday and Froula Park Today

Dear Diary,

Yesterday and today I hiked mostly for another set of pages I hope to write in you this month, but yesterday I also took the opportunity to visit a couple of isolated parks with plumbing, and both days I visited parks that are on reservoir grounds but, mysteriously, don't have plumbing of their own.

I told you, dear Diary, that I didn't expect the remainder of the hikes to paint as rosy a baseline picture as the first hike, through most of the NW parks, had.  I just hadn't expected things to go downhill quite so fast.  In the two parks I visited yesterday, I found two closed restrooms and one missing water fountain.  However, one water fountain I hadn't found working in the past is now working.  Still, it's a problem that isolated parks in northernmost Seattle offer even fewer restrooms than the tiny numbers the City of Seattle Department of Parks and Recreation has put there in the past.

Bitter Lake Playfield

Unlike Ballard Playground and Loyal Heights Playfield, whose restrooms are built into the Community Centers those parks contain, at Bitter Lake Playfield, there's a separate restroom building.  I've been told in the past that these restrooms were open 24 hours, presumably because they're so far from other parks with restrooms, and thus inconvenient to service.  (What I've seen with my own eyes is that they stayed open quite late, but I've yet to incorporate this park into any of my "all night long" hikes to really verify.)  However, in the past, they weren't open all year.

Last year, I visited those restrooms in early March, and they weren't open yet.  I complained because there was supposed to be a project to replace those restrooms (though not in such a way that the new ones could stay open all year), and it hadn't happened yet.

So of course this year I visited just about ready to explode, and I'm complaining because the project isn't done yet, and I had to use the "sanican"s instead.

To be fair, because the water fountain was running, I was able to use the soap from the hand-washing machine and the water from the water fountain to wash my hands, in much the same way as I'd described in "Hygiene Is a Luxury I Can't Afford", also about this park, nearly four years ago, but with far fewer mishaps this time.  Yes, in the ideal world the hand-washing machine would also provide water, but one can't have everything.

In any event, the parks department currently says "SPR anticipates the restroom and remainder of electrical work for the tennis court lights to be completed by mid-July", but, well, that didn't happen:

So I wondered if the department were simply running out the clock until the restrooms would have to close anyway.  Again in the ideal world, since we were told that the parks department was making a financial plan to enable all its restrooms to be open year-round, the delay could be while the contractor tries to figure out a way to fit heat into whatever space is available.  But in this real world, I doubt that's actually what's going on.

In any event, there's a water fountain missing.  It used to be roughly here:

adjacent to the then-playground area.  Maybe I missed it - the new playground area was in use the whole time, and I didn't want to intrude.  There are several photographs of it at the Google Drive folder, which also includes all the above photos; it has a round bowl, unlike the square-bowled double fountain that's definitely still there and that helped me wash my hands.

Carkeek Park

I was much less desperate when I visited Carkeek Park, which is fortunate because it's much further from the street grid than Bitter Lake Playfield is.  I found all its water fountains running.  Even the archaic stone-clad one at the Environmental Learning Center, which I've never found running before, now gives super-abundant water:

I didn't try to use that arching stream, but did fill my bottle from both of the others.  The one in the playground area gave fairly brownish-tinted water, which I threw away and replaced with water from the fountain in the Eddie McAbee entrance area, which was still mildly tinted but proved drinkable.

So that's the good news.  The bad news is that when Carkeek Park was planned, it was planned for two restroom pairs, but for one of those two to have doors that opened indoors.  As happens to all park buildings given enough time, the buildings those restrooms were in have closed to the public, and so Carkeek Park is left with only one restroom pair.  Last winter I celebrated because a building had re-opened to the public, but it turns out to have been a temporary expedient while a building in a different park was being renovated.

 "No Public Restroom".  They know what they're doing is wrong, and this is their response?

Dear Diary, does any of your readers think I'm blowing smoke?  The freaking map provided to visitors to Carkeek Park specifically displays a symbol it clearly identifies with restrooms, and displays it in connection with these buildings.

The good news, I suppose, is that they aren't adding insult to injury any more.  In the past there was a "sanican" in that area, but it was locked, because it was being used to store science projects for the school using the buildings.  It's no longer there.  It's pleasant to think that someone got a severe talking-to about the proper use of equipment the City of Seattle pays rent for.

Bitter Lake Reservoir Park

This is a weird park.  It's fundamentally a creation of Seattle Public Utilities, and I've actually spent a fair amount of time trying and failing to find the actual boundary between public and non-public areas there.  So I don't have a clue how big it is, and that's weird.  (For example, I know that Carkeek Park is very much the biggest one-restroom park in north Seattle.)  Also, it has fitness equipment I've never seen used, and a playground I haven't seen much used - quite unlike old or new at Bitter Lake Playfield.

They're aware that that playground isn't popular, and they're planning to renovate it, with a major stage to be reached in, of course, mid-July past, oops.

And yet the park as a whole is so popular that probably the single park photo I've most wanted to show you, dear Diary, but have been unable to, is the photo of its grand entrance from above, because every time I've been there, someone has always been in the frame.  At the moment that viewpoint is even grander, because the rowan trees framing it are in fruit, and while rowan berries are poisonous, they sure are pretty.  Alas, my phone has trouble photographing red, so their beauty is wasted in this substitute photo.

Froula Park

It has come to my attention that I've been misnaming this park.  I like to give parks the best name I can give them.  Most notably, the park the parks department calls "Ross Playground" is "Ross Playfield" on its scoreboard, and "Ross Park" on its park sign.  So I call it Ross Park.  Well, um, on the park sign of the park the parks department calls "Froula Playground", this is what we find:

My apologies.

I've also neglected this park more than I should have.  This time I saw a sign that I didn't remember, and certainly didn't tell you about, dear Diary.

Apparently Roosevelt Reservoir has hidden depths, if you'll pardon the pun, dear Diary.  Why did they feel the need to post that sign, and when did they do so?  Was that restroom ever open?  To whom?

It's hard to imagine Froula anything having mysteries, but it clearly does.

It also has swings.  I found years ago, long before your birth, dear Diary, that I actually still enjoy swinging.  But I got few opportunities to do it at University Playground, then near where I slept, because I was rarely OK with leaving my stuff unattended in order to use the swings, given the kinds of people I usually saw at that park.  Froula Park's swings are all too high off the ground for me to climb into easily, so they aren't really a solution, but I'll keep looking.

All for now, dear Diary.  I hope tomorrow to start writing in you the other series I've been hiking for, but we'll see.  Happy days and nights until we meet again.

Top of the City, Part III

Dear Diary,

Perhaps you remember that we left off, two pages ago, with an account of my hikes June 26 and October 10, resting at the Eddie McAbee Entrance on the latter date.

The reason I needed to rest is that I was about to hike to the city limits to visit the only park in North Seattle more isolated from other parks than Carkeek Park:

Llandover Woods

Each time I've gone there, I've taken the direct route, up 3rd Ave NW.  I've gradually learnt that this was only a terrifying experience the first time because I'm really bad at finding sidewalks.  3rd has sidewalks on the west side of the street from NW 100th to about 115th Streets, and on the east side for all but one block from NW 120th to 145th.  So there's only occasionally reason to risk the traffic.  Wimps could, of course, take Greenwood Ave N, which has good sidewalks the whole way.

Anyway, upon reaching 3rd Ave NW and NW 145th St, one is confronted with a sign:

Here's that sign's map a bit closer:

Now, on June 26 I read that map as clearly showing that the entrance to the trails was west on NW 145th.  So I considered taking a video of the uninterrupted trees along there, but settled for a photo, and went on speculating that maybe the project had run out of money.

On October 10, on the other hand, I noticed that star at the park's northwest corner, which seemed to be reachable via a pretty simple series of winding streets.  So off I went.

Anyone who ever does the same should please compare the map above with, you know, a real map first, so as to know that after NW 137th St and a long trek along NW Northwood Road, one must turn at Alpine Way NW; not knowing this, I wound up in someone's driveway.  Somewhere along the way, I learnt that my destination is in a literally gated community, Llandover by the Sound:

Anyway, though, after shorter stints on NW Culbertson Drive and Sherwood Road NW, one eventually does reach that starred entrance, and yes, there really is a woods there:

Eventually I stumbled onto the path back to 3rd and 145th, and thus discovered that the actual trail entrance is not on 145th, but behind a parking lot that is, in turn, behind this pillar:

which is south of the original sign and its map.

Just inside that entrance is a more useful map:

which helped me as I trudged back to where I'd left my cart, waited out a rain squall, and then climbed back up every one of those winding roads again.  Which is quite enough of my stupidity for today.

Along good sidewalks of 145th and then Linden Ave N, each time evening was nearing as I visited

Bitter Lake Reservoir Open Space

This is an odd park.  Like Froula Playground and Maple Leaf Reservoir Park, it's built on the grounds of a Seattle Public Utilities reservoir.  Unlike those, its pervasive theme is water:  a couple of fitness machines that require pumping motions, a see-saw decorated with dolphins and sharks, a P-Patch, and the gorgeous water play area, turned off this year, that greets people at a formal entrance:

But none of this means there's a water fountain, let alone a restroom.

The park was pretty crowded in June, but not in October.

The next Seattle Department of Parks and Recreation park is down Linden a ways, near N 130th St, but first, it turns out rather more of the reservoir site is parkified than is an official park:

The outer fence, in front, is just because the land across it is well below the sidewalk.  All the way to the inner fence way back there is open to the public, acres and acres it seems.

Bitter Lake Playfield

This is the park I've found most changed this year, unless you count places like Christie and Fritz Hedges Waterway Parks.

The lake is this playfield's most memorable feature; it's on the northwest border.  Along most of the east lies the Bitter Lake Community Center, which unlike the other Community Centers in "N" and "NW" does not contain restrooms with outside doors.  Instead the restrooms are a little southeast of the park's middle.

The first time I visited, there were people camping all along the lake shore (though carefully not blocking scenic outlooks), and a little to the east of the lake, along the park's north edge.  The restrooms stayed open at least until 9:05 P.M., and people told me they were open 24 hours.  The water fountains weren't running.  The park was bustling.

The second time I went, as at the reservoir, was much quieter.  One reason is that the plumbing had flipped:  the restrooms were locked but the water fountains were on.  Everyone had moved their tents away from the lake shore to another location, though tents remained along the park's north edge.  A fence leaned against the shore bushes blocked one of the outlooks.

I talked with two women campers.  The one who did most of the talking said, in response to my imagining that the parks department was trying to shift people to Woodland Park, that the only deal she'd been offered was trash pickup, and that seemed to be breaking down.  She said, and Rachel Schulkin, parks department communications manager, confirmed, that the restrooms had been closed for a construction project.  She also said she hadn't seen any construction for a while; Ms. Schulkin, who didn't believe that the restrooms had been 24 hours, seemed upset that the restrooms hadn't reopened, though by mid-October the writing was already on the wall, the seasonal restrooms uncertain at best.  (The construction was lighting, unfortunately not winterisation.)

So all my new photos of this park are darker than the old ones.  This is partly for personal reasons; those were the only restrooms I'd expected to see between Carkeek that morning and Northacres the next morning.  But partly, I didn't much like the casually negligent way this park's summer activity had been stilled.  Anyway:

Two of Bitter Lake's scenic outlooks:

The geese, this time not on the lake:

Hmm.  Those buildings looked shabbier to me than this photo makes them.

Speaking of shabby, the fenced-in scenic outlook:

And the restrooms, which I couldn't find closed last time, but now:

Haller Lake Street End

This is at the end of N 125th St; across the lake NE 125th St begins.  As this implies, we aren't especially close to the Bitter Lake parks here; Northacres is actually closer.  I don't know whether this park has a formal connection to the street end program; it's practically a model of the concept, but not on any list I've seen.

Each time, I reached this park in twilight.  Somehow, each time I decided that it made sense to shoot a photo facing east across a small lake at sunset.  In contrast to the Bitter Lake parks, this one was much busier at the (much earlier) October twilight than in June; I had to negotiate with fishermen to take this:

And now for something literally, but not figuratively, much darker.  For whatever reason, people living next to the park are waging a duel of positivity.  Despite the limited light, I couldn't resist trying to document a sample of each side:

Next more or less due north to Meridian Ave N and N 135th St, except that on October 10 I took a vast detour to verify where 3rd Ave NW has sidewalks.

Madison Pool and Ingraham Playfield

Madison Pool is both the northernmost and the most approachable of the pools in North Seattle that I've visited in this year of closure; in fact each night, of June 26 and October 10, I slept there.  It is, as a result, where my June notes go away, so I just photographed what I wanted to, starting with where I slept:

See that bench, next to the building name?  There's another opposite that one, hidden in this photo by the planter, and I slept each time sitting up on that bench.

But my real reason for taking this photo is the building name.  This pool isn't named for a slave-owner, but for Helene C. Madison, who moved here as a child and won various gold medals and set various world records in swimming.  I found a site called Olympedia informative in relation to her ties to Seattle.

Although the pool is closed, it turns out that a surprising amount of land is attached to it, even though everything is on the grounds of Ingraham High School, and most of that land is parkified:

Speaking of Ingraham, a line about the Ingraham High School Playfield showed up in the 2020 Seattle real property report as a parks entry.  I assume what's meant is at least this:

Well, that's my report on the top of the city outside "NE".  Next come updates and supplements to the first two "Top of the City" pages, and then a bunch more pages.  I'm sorry, dear Diary, that it's so hard for me these days to get to Wi-Fi to write in you; I know it's silly to have such a lot left in mid-November.