Ravenna Boulevard

Dear Diary,

Two nights ago, June 5, I walked the whole length of Ravenna Boulevard on my way to Green Lake.  Partly, this was to verify with my own eyes that it doesn't have any restrooms or water fountains.  (It is, after all, a local park; in fact, its addresses use "NE" throughout its length.)  Partly this was to take lots of pictures; it consists of twenty-two separate islands of grass and trees in the street, and I took pictures of each.  And partly I just wanted to see it all; I hadn't previously been farther than 9th Ave on it.

It is not an especially dramatic or interesting boulevard.  The part I already knew consists mostly of islands with a single row of trees; the part new to me, of islands with two rows of trees.  Much of the familiar part interests me thanks to things external to its design - the topography (in this part, the road, and so the islands, curve a lot) and the trees (the boulevard is now old enough that few of these are from the original plantings).  In the unfamiliar part the topography gets boring, and I'd stopped really noticing the trees.

The third island is pretty dramatic, so anyone reading you, dear Diary, might as well get that far.  And the ninth island, which has its own name, Olga Park, deserves some attention.  But I wouldn't blame any reader for ignoring the rest.

Islands 1 and 2

Island 1 goes from Park Road on the north (a little west of Ravenna Ave on the south) to Park Road on the north and 21st Ave on the south.  Island 2 goes from there to 20th Ave.  Both islands curve, which is their main point of interest.  The first two photos below are of island 1, the third of island 2.

Islands 3 and 4

These islands between them go from 20th Ave to 18th Ave; island 3 covers most of that distance, while island 4 is small.  The boulevard's sides differ considerably in height for much of island 3's length, resulting in much the most complex planting arrangement in all of Ravenna Boulevard.  I normally take the north side of the boulevard when I walk it, with few exceptions; I did so this time.  Three shots of island 3, and one of island 4.

Islands 5 and 6, and 17th Ave

Island 5 is the first that I find just plain boring.  It goes from 18th to 17th Avenues.  Island 6 is a large traffic circle in the intersection with 17th, with big trees on it.  This instance of 17th follows this up by becoming a boulevard itself for the rest of its length, to 45th St; there it becomes Memorial Way and remains a boulevard for a block or so.  The main interesting thing about the islands of 17th Ave is how the students living along it furnish each one.  I got lost one of the first times I walked Ravenna Boulevard, at this intersection, and tried to figure out where I was by remembering that Ravenna was a boulevard but 17th wasn't; this did not work well.  One shot of island 5, one of 6, and one of the northernmost island in 17th Ave.

Islands 7 and 8

More boring islands.  7 goes from 17th to 16th Avenues, and does have a giant tree, 8 from 16th to 15th.  One shot of each.

Island 9 - Olga Park

From 15th Ave to University Way Ravenna Boulevard widens dramatically, with all the added width going to the island in the middle.  As a result, it has room for two rows of trees with a paved path in between, the only such down the middle of a Ravenna Boulevard island; and many of the trees are big.

I'm not at all sure the name posted there, Olga Park, has any official backing; just about the only reference to it online is a Facebook page where disapproval of late-stage capitalism seems to be a criterion for friendship.  Under these circumstances it would be invidious to speculate as to the identity of the marathoner the signage claims the name honours.  But frankly, this bit of Ravenna Boulevard deserves its own name, and might as well keep this one.

Three shots of Olga Park:

Island 10

From University Way to Brooklyn Ave, Ravenna Boulevard runs alongside Cowen Park.  As if to avoid outshining the park, it turns abruptly into a sad thing; island 10 is the only pathetic one in Ravenna Boulevard.  This is the only block I usually walk on the south side of the street, because the north side, being in Cowen Park, has only a gravel path.  One shot of island 10.

Islands 11, 12 and 13

Ravenna Boulevard comes back from this self-abasement changed:  it's wider, enough for two rows of trees for the rest of its length, and more orderly, with paved paths at each island's ends.  Lots of walkers and joggers were using these islands at the time, so photography took me a while.  Island 11 runs from Brooklyn Ave to 12th Ave on the north, 11th Ave on the south.  Island 12 runs from those to Roosevelt Way, and 13 from Roosevelt to 9th Ave on the north, 60th St on the south; I thought island 13 wider on the west, and my map actually shows that.  One shot each in that order.

Islands 14, 15 and 16:  Approaching I-5

At 9th Ave / 60th St, Ravenna Boulevard, which had been going maybe west-northwest, turns northward, so it's going at least straight northwest.  Island 14 goes from those streets to 62nd St on the north, 8th Ave on the south, and an exit from I-5 on the west.  Island 15 goes from that mess to 63rd St, but is just a triangle.  And island 16 goes from 63rd to the edge of I-5 above.  14 and 16 have two rows of trees; 15 hasn't room.  One shot each, in numerical order.

Islands 17 and 18:  I-5 and after

Island 17 runs from directly under the eastern edge of I-5 past the western edge to 6th Ave.  Island 18 is just a triangle between 6th Ave and 65th St.  Island 17 is gravel where it has to be, but squeezes two rows of trees in wherever there's sunlight.  Two shots of it, then one of island 18.

Islands 19 and 20

These are two long blocks.  Island 19 runs from 65th St to 68th St on the north; island 20 from there to 70th St on the north, Woodlawn Ave on the south.  Island 19 passes the John Marshall Building, where several homeless schools are currently squatting; I hope they don't get swept.  Island 19 has a rather obscured marker on it reading "Green Lake".  One shot of that, one regular shot of 19, then one of 20.

Islands 21 and 22

These are two triangles at the entrance to Green Lake Park.  To describe their positions accurately I have to introduce you, dear Diary, to a complexity of Seattle addresses I've heretofore ignored.  Most Seattle streets have directions in their names.  For streets called Street, which normally go east-west, and for other generally east-west streets, these directions precede the name:  NE 65th St, NE Ravenna Boulevard.  For streets called Avenue, and other generally north-south streets, the direction comes after the classifier:  12th Ave NE, Roosevelt Way NE.  Since almost every street I've heretofore mentioned to you, dear Diary, has been NE, I've just left the direction out.  (The main non-NE streets mentioned so far are in the page titled "Water Fountains:  Things We've Lost, part II".)  I'll also leave directions out in the next two pages, in which almost all the streets mentioned will have the direction N.  But these two triangles are at the NE-N boundary, so have to get the full street names.

So island 21, on the north, runs from NE 70th St to the intersection of NE 71st St and East Green Lake Drive N.  And island 22, on the south, goes from Woodlawn Ave NE to East Green Lake Way N.

These each do what they can to have double rows of trees.  At first glimpse of the results, I thought they were one interestingly planted island, but no; still, from some angles they have the effect of one.

Two shots, but I'm not sure which is which.

So that's Ravenna Boulevard.  I saw a number of presumably occupied tents along it; this complicated some of the photography.  I hope they can postpone the fun and excitement of sweeps awhile, like the schools.

Home Dry Home

Dear Diary,

Today I finished visiting the nearby parks with water fountains.  For some I had more specific goals, but in general I wanted to get up to date on their water fountains and, where applicable, their restrooms, and also wanted to take some pictures.

The only change since the last time I did this is one I've taken for granted, in writing in you, for weeks, dear Diary.  This is that the restrooms in upper Ravenna Park have gone from usually locked, sometimes open 24 hours, to normal park restrooms, open reasonably early, closed far too early.  Otherwise, the three remaining locked restrooms (in Cowen and Magnuson Parks and in University Playground) remain locked, all the rest are open, and hardly any water fountains are running.

The first day, I got up and went, as usual,to

Burke-Gilman Playground Park

This is a smallish park (7 acres) which is nevertheless in three parts.  The one I've focused on has the restrooms (open) and water fountain (running; my main water source for the past two months) as well as a playground and the "neat stuff" I've posted pictures of already.  This time I wanted to replace the "door shots" that early in you, dear Diary, provided evidence of restrooms open or closed, with shots meant to document how much privacy the men's rooms' users could expect.  BGPP is by this standard mediocre:  the only toilet stall has a heavy door which stays closed when pulled to, but can't be latched, let alone locked; there's no sign the existing door ever had such features.

The men's room also is still out of soap; it's now been over a week.

I also wanted to flip my previous standard for "neat stuff", that it be near the restrooms.  So I looked for "neat stuff" elsewhere, and in BGPP that means the other two parts.  This park has a ravine:

which is actually where I first looked for the restrooms, even though its trail is gravel.  So this park also taught me what I wrote a while ago, that parks normally don't try to hide their plumbing.

After breakfast, I travelled on

The Burke-Gilman Trail

I normally don't mention this, but it is in fact technically a Seattle park, and as I mentioned some time ago, it does have a (badly damaged) water fountain that I've photographed several times already.  Here's yet another:

Someone has tried to console the thirsty with candy.

I usually turn shortly after this fountain to go to Safeway (yes, the one that was attacked two days ago, though I didn't know that then).  From there I took 45th to

Laurelhurst Community Center and Playfield

This park is twice the size of BGPP and much more sports-oriented.  The restrooms are built into the community center, but open to the outside; they have many little features more typical of building than of field restrooms, of which the most important by far is that the sinks give hot water.  The two rooms are single-user and all-gender.  They have two visible locking mechanisms.  The one that looks like a deadbolt does nothing; I don't know whether the one included in the latch works, or whether these doors latch but don't lock.

The three water fountains are near the tennis courts and behind the two baseball diamonds.  I've yet to find any of them running.

At the far end of the park from the restrooms is a bridge, whose whole purpose, I suspect, is to allow kids from Laurelhurst Elementary to reach the park without crossing a street:

After eating lunch and (ah, luxury) washing my deli container, I took that bridge to 47th Ave, and that north to Sand Point Way, which I left at 65th for

Magnuson Park

This is one of Seattle's largest parks, though the effect is a little vitiated by its northwestern part being heavily built up.  It has three existing pairs of restrooms, a derelict building that used to host another pair, and three spots where an old map claims restrooms once were.  Here I failed to find "neat stuff" far from the restrooms.  I thought of Promontory Point, but it's actually pretty dull, except for its views of Lake Washington:

which of course also exists close to the "beach" restrooms.

North along the shore from the Point, the derelict restroom building's leak has been stopped.  The water thus saved has not been put into any of the park's four water fountains known to me.

Further north are the beach restrooms.  The stalls in these (I ventured to glance into the women's room) look like they had doors, which have been removed.  The dryer in the men's room still doesn't work.

My other failure to find "neat stuff" far from these restrooms is "Fin Art", a sculpture field (by John T. Young) mainly north of them, but reaching far enough south to be seen from them:

Going west on the Cross Park Trail, we get to the central restrooms.  I see no evidence that the stalls in the men's room here ever had doors:

Further west, near the entrance, is another set, still locked:

I recently compiled a list of North Seattle community centers, and was surprised to have ignored one in Magnuson Park.  It turns out to have been the building those restrooms are in, "The Brig", so although I didn't know it was officially a community center, I'd already followed my usual procedure, circling it looking for signs of pandemic life, and as usual not finding any.

After some fiddling around, I managed to escape Magnuson Park at 70th St to enter the View Ridge neighbourhood.  This turned out to be a mistake;  that ridge is all too real, and there were several scarily steep blocks.  But eventually, on the ridge's gentler western downslope, I reached

View Ridge Playfield

EXTENSIVELY EDITED; I'D FORGOTTEN THE RESTROOMS

This is one of three parks I added to this trip so as to make eventually updating the parks further north easier.  Of these three, only this one has restrooms; none have functioning water fountains.  They aren't core parks for me as the nearer ones are (and Magnuson, because it's the nearest big park to me).  But I didn't want to single them out to get no photos.  So I decided to take one photo of each, from beside its water fountain.  View Ridge Playfield suffers from this because its main water fountain has been removed "to not spread germs", according to women I asked about it, and the one that's left is behind the edge of a baseball diamond's fence:

Because I find the explanation I've heard for the water fountain's removal disturbing, I'm biased against this park.  This seems to have led me, on this trip, to forget that it has restrooms.  This is doubly embarrassing because on June 6 (the day of the edits), I was informed by a parks employee that VIEW RIDGE PLAYFIELD'S RESTROOMS ARE NOW OPEN 24 HOURS.  Given that, it seems a safe bet that they were open the day I forgot them (June 2).

From there I took 45th Ave to 65th St, then 65th to

Bryant Neighborhood Playground

A little (3 acres) and largely vertical park.  It was a little difficult to find an angle that didn't include people here:

Further along 45th, I eventually reached

Ravenna-Eckstein Park

Another 3-acre park, built around another community center.  This one's only sign of life is that it may be providing free newspapers to the neighbourhood.  The water fountain is behind the building.

I've already told the story of how finishing in one day went down in flames when Ravenna Park's restrooms proved to have closed early.  So the next day (June 3) I got up and took Sand Point Way to 

Burke-Gilman Playground Park

The third part of this park is sort of a mini-park, all grass and basketball court, that you can see from the Burke-Gilman Trail, on which are these two sculptures by Anna MacDonald:

The words on the first are "Not Yet", the second "Already".

The Burke-Gilman Trail

This time I shot from beside the fountain:

Surprise!  Yes, it is possible to get bored with green.

I take a fairly complicated route to lower

Ravenna Park

This, at fifty acres, is easily the biggest of these except for Magnuson Park.  It comes in three parts:  the lower, which features lots of complicated detail elements from which most of the "neat stuff" I've already photographed have come; the upper, which is on a rather larger scale; and the ravine, photos of which are in the last part of the page titled "Ravennawards".  Both the lower and the upper parts have restrooms that are now normally open by day, and the upper has a working water fountain, with rather hard water.  Both men's rooms have doors that latch and lock:

Also, I was mistaken when I said some time ago that the upper restrooms had no dryers.  Turns out these, which I'd thought maybe controlled since-removed showers,  are old-fashioned but working dryers:

Obviously this time I had to get "neat stuff" from the upper park, and here are two bits.  One is an actual sink in a picnic shelter.  Unfortunately it isn't on, perhaps because picnics aren't currently allowed, perhaps because it isn't sink season?

The other is a century-old bridge, for 20th Ave over Ravenna Creek, that's on the National Register of Historic Places:

Whew.  Across that bridge and on via 62nd St and 15th Ave to

Cowen Park

I've complained already about this park's gravel and stairs, and grudgingly admitted a couple of things would have been neat if they'd been in "a more reasonable park".  Here's an example far from the restrooms:

You probably can't tell, but this notice board balances better than most park notice boards the demands of the present - to the right, which I apparently failed to include (the sun's angle made this shot hard), are three 2020 notices - with the weird insistence park notice boards have on preserving past ephemera - here including at least one sign from 2012.  If it could be reached on pavement, it'd be pretty neat.

Cowen Park also has one thing I have to admit is cool enough to be neat even where it is.  This is a sort of low-risk thrill-ride version of a swing.  It doesn't photograph well, unfortunately, but I tried it today and found it scary fun.

Cowen Park's restrooms remain locked.  I don't remember their having the discernibly latchable and lockable stall doors they have now, but we've already established (at the start of "Ravennawards") that my memory for restroom doors is unreliable.

I noticed, this time, evidence of a ventilation system in the building, further mystifying me as to why Cowen Park's restrooms are seasonal.

On by a complicated route (these two parks are linked as near each other and both with closed restrooms, but they're actually pretty far apart for "near") to

University Playground

Here, again, the restrooms remain locked, not that my photo can prove that:

And the water fountain remains shut off.  As at Albert Davis Park in Lake City, the homeless people camping here have put some space between themselves.  (I haven't been ignoring encampments in the other parks in this post; I haven't noticed any.)  That said, while this park is over twice as big as Albert Davis Park, it is, at less than three acres, the smallest so far in this page, and I really don't know of any "neat stuff" I haven't already pointed out.  So let me instead correct mistakes I then made.  I should have named Richard Beyer as the sculptor of this:

and should also have noted that the artist intended it as Sasquatch, not a troll (though to my eye he actually made a troll). To my surprise, this sculpture has its own Wikipedia article.

Finally, straight down 8th Ave to 

Christie Park

This small park recently doubled in size, which prompted a complete revision.  Apparently the old park had basketball and a water fountain, or at least that's how I now interpret the parks department's web page on the park.  The new park, according to two men I found working there today, will not include a water fountain.  I'm very impressed by how much progress the work has made since my last visit, not so long ago; the park will probably open before, dear Diary, I finish writing you.

Two Hours and Two Hours

Dear Diary,

I was hoping today to update you on the local parks, but I should've known better:  even on days when I've started much earlier, I haven't yet managed to get to Magnuson Park and get to University Playground early enough that I can be sure a locked door is really locked, and not just for the night.  But today I could've done all the rest, except...

So instead I'll tell you the story of the evening of the 27th, last Wednesday, and then I'll explain why I also didn't get to Ravenna and Cowen Parks today, and also expound some more on the wisdom of our mayor.  Yes, it all ties together.

I took buses to get back from Maple Leaf Reservoir Park to campus that day, and as I lugged my cart down the steps to the place where I usually charge the phone on which I write in you, dear Diary - as I arrived there, the big clock there told me it was 6:00 P.M.  But before I could even plug the phone in, I was suddenly seized with a pressing need to do Number Two.  So I repacked what little I'd unpacked, lugged the cart back up the steps, and headed for upper Ravenna Park's restrooms.

But there I found one toilet clogged (again), and the other occupied by a guy even more desperate to spend his days inside again than I am; he had set himself up in that stall and would stay as long as he could.  I decided this interpretation might be wrong and I should wait ten minutes, at 6:43 P.M.  In the end I only had patience for five minutes, and left for lower Ravenna at 6:48.  I thought I heard him flush and move while I was barely within hearing range.

I saw a Seattle Parks and Recreation truck as I arrived at lower Ravenna, and felt relieved when it didn't head for the restrooms - but that was because it had just come from them, as a bystander explained when I found the doors locked.  As I trundled away, it was 7:00 P.M.

Next stop, University Village.  It had locked its public restrooms in early April, a few days after I left the last hotel, but had re-opened them a few days before.  Not, however, after 7 P.M.

So I wound up in Safeway hours earlier than usual, to use their beleaguered restroom, buy something to make up for it, and head back uphill to campus.  This time that big clock read 8:18 P.M.

So call that two hours.

I wasn't sure how to write about that, so put it off.  I mean, obviously the strict enforcement of the closing time for Ravenna Park's restrooms must be good for me, or the city wouldn't have done it.  But I just couldn't quite figure out how.

Tonight that's much clearer.  Tonight I found the lower Ravenna Park restrooms locked at 6:27 P.M., the upper likewise at 6:38.  I'm not really quibbling over the half-hour difference.  I'm sure it isn't really that risky to eat supper with sanitizer on your hands.  But it's renewed confirmation that closing time is still 7 P.M., not 9.  And so I finally understand how early restroom closings benefit me.  They're vocabulary lessons.

Let me unpack a bit.  The day I started to write you, dear Diary, I learnt (I thought from Erica C. Barnett, but now am not sure) of a a city restroom list (PDF).  This is, for example, where I got the term "sanican".  Another thing I got from it is that most park restrooms have two sets of hours:  7 A.M. to 7 P.M. normally, but 7 A.M. to 9 P.M. "Peak Season Only".

Now, when I first saw the restrooms in the Laurelhurst Community Center, they had signs on their doors, saying that those doors would be locked at 7:00 P.M. from October through March.  So when I saw the list, I interpreted this as meaning that "peak season" ran from April through September.

Do you remember, dear Diary, how a couple of times I've been "shocked" to find a restroom locked at 7:40 P.M.?  This is why.

So.  There's a seasonal restroom at Magnuson Park that isn't yet open as of today.  I haven't been there for nearly a month, but I bet the seasonal showers and restrooms at Matthews Beach aren't open yet either.  Time is running out for these "seasons".

But in what sense is it not "peak season" for Seattle's parks?  Does peak begin based on the weather?  So last year's cold summer it never happened?  Does it begin when school's out?  Funny, I thought school had been out since March.  Does it begin when parks get crowded?  "Crowded parks lead to closed parks."

In addition, there are emergencies to consider.  King County's executive Dow Constantine and Seattle's then-mayor Ed Murray both declared homelessness an "emergency" in 2015.  These declarations have not yet been revoked.  In addition, everyone in the world has declared COVID-19 an "emergency".  One element of the intersection of these "emergencies" is that unsheltered homeless people like me, and for that matter sheltered ones still put out onto the streets by day, have been told to use parks' restrooms; that is, after all, your entire premise, dear Diary.  Wouldn't you think this double emergency would call for, among other things, rigging every question of "seasons" in our favour?

No, of course not.  Because "emergency" really means "something about which nothing should be done".  Oh, my story implies other benefits.  I've learnt that Number Two may require me to walk miles, and wait hours, so I need much more self-discipline.  If I was right about that guy in upper Ravenna Park, thanks to the other U-District park restrooms being closed, he has more power these days, to monopolise a whole neighbourhood's park restrooms, than he's probably had in years.  These are not small benefits.  But I think the main good thing that arises from it taking me two hours to find a toilet, because the parks are closing two hours earlier than they should, is that it's clarified for me the meaning of "emergency".

State of the local parks, with pictures, tomorrow, dear Diary.  Good night.