If you live in Silver Lake, you know my hero. Marc Abrams walked through the streets of our neighborhood every day, reading a newspaper that he held tightly folded against his tanned, taut chest. He even had a uniform:  He always wore a pair of mint green shorts, doubled over at the waist, the drawstring knotted tight. Except the handful of times I saw him in royal blue shorts, and if it was really cold, a leather jacket. But that was like, once.

If you said hi, he’d say hi back. But if you wanted to talk to him, you had to fall into step. I never once saw him stop.

Last year, Marc, who is better known as the Silver Lake Walker, or Walking Man, was immortalized in an amazing mural by Nicky Gagliarducci painted on the wall just outside of Local, one of our favorite restaurants. The mural features him walking through various LA landscapes, past the now-razed Brown Derby, down historic Olvera Street, to the edge of Santa Monica Pier, crossing through the city’s time and space on foot, transcending stereotypes and changing minds about walking in LA.

A beautiful audio slideshow in the LA Times captured a day in the life of the city’s most famous pedestrian, including the fact that he logged about 200 miles a week.

During last year’s Parking Day, de LaB had our park outside Local, a spot I was especially proud to claim due to its proximity to the Silver Lake Walker mural. So imagine my complete and unfettered joy when, mid-morning, Marc came walking down Sunset in front of his very mural, in the same outfit (of course). I started jumping up and down. “Marc!” I yelled, like we had been friends forever. “Marc! Can I take your photo?” I ran over to him, dancing around him as he kept walking. “I’m a walker!” I said, giddy. “My last name is Walker and I’m a walker!”

“Oh, you’re a walker, too?” he said, laughing at my sidewalk show. He stopped, and introduced himself, as I proudly explained how we had created a park out of a parking space—we made it for people who walk! “Okay,” he smiled in approval. “You can do whatever you want.” He posed and let me snap his photo, then stepped away into the morning.

Yesterday, Marc, a retired doctor, was found dead at 58. If I were in LA, I’d take a memorial lap around the neighborhood with today’s paper, just like Marc did for decades. Then I’d go place it in front of that mural, where the Silver Lake Walker will keep on walking forever.

Update: Rico Gagliano, host of the Dinner Party Download, has launched a Facebook petition to name the Silver Lake Reservoir loop for Marc. A great idea!

Update: Blogging.la is organizing a memorial walk for this Sunday starting at noon. And here’s the route, based on a 2004 interview: “I usually loop around the lake, and then go down West Silverlake to Rowena, and then Hyperion, and then Griffith Park Blvd. down Sunset, back down Silverlake to the reservoir, and then back and loop around the lake again. So it’s about 15 miles altogether.”

Summer finally showed up here in LA—complete with thunderstorms and humidity—just in time for me to get out of town. I’ll be on the road for a bit, hopefully filling my Flickr and Twitter streams with lots of adventures. Until then, it wouldn’t be summer without a repeat viewing of this clip from a memorable vacation to Silver Dollar City. For those of you not from the midwest, that’s in Branson, Missouri. Happy trails!

Thanks to Gelato Bar and a little help from my Facebook (and real-life) friends, we had a great group show up last night on a positively balmy evening for the first-ever Gelatobaby Ice Cream Social!

Yes, that is a sign on the sidewalk with my name on it. You’ll remember I won a gift certificate to Gelato Bar for winning a highly-competitive contest. Well, the folks at Gelato Bar are so cool, they put my name outside the shop for a whole week!

Thanks so much to our lovely co-hosts, Wendi Matthews and Gail Silverton. They were the sweetest! Wendi’s son even got behind the counter and scooped for the group—a gelato master-in-training!

Some of last night’s flavor highlights included rose sorbetto and banana split. You can read about my first visit to Gelato Bar when that amazing award-winning photo was taken.

It was the first truly hot night of the year—a perfect opportunity to sit outside in Gelato Bar’s pastel glow and soak up some serious summer.

Check out all the photos from last night, and of course don’t forget to visit Gelato Bar, or at the very least, become a fan of their  Facebook page.

In fact, last night was so successful, I think we should do it again. Where should we do it next? Pazzo? Scoops? Bulgarini? Chasing Coolhaus through the streets?

This was one of those stop-and-sigh perfect moments on Friday night, as I walked towards Los Feliz and a fizzy rosé revelation at my new favorite neighborhood bar. I passed a dozen banners advertising John Baldessari’s new LACMA show but didn’t really notice the image on it until I turned the corner on Sunset and the light caused it to almost blend seamlessly into the sunset behind. I loved that it’s this frozen urban scene suspended in an urban scene in motion, the fact that both skies are exactly the same shade of blue, the way the palm tree appears like punctuation, a pattern repeated on every LA block.

It was a not-summer summer day. The sky was milk-white, swirling its chilled brand of gloom over the city. It was so chilly, in fact, that I was forced to wear tights—tights! In July! But there I was in Hollywood in my tights and a chunky sweater and a few minutes to spare, so with teeth chattering I walked the few blocks over to one of my favorite strip malls.

At first glance, it’s nothing special. As you can see they have the three federally-mandated LA strip mall staples: liquor store, cleaners and nail salon. The signage also denotes there is a dentist on the premises as well as the possibility of “pets,” although in this neighborhood that could mean something else entirely. “Cocktail” may be shorthand for a bar called The Woods, which used to be a tiki bar called the Lava Lounge. My friend Emily and I went to their fire sale when they closed down and ended up buying large bags of jungle creature swizzle sticks and tiki-patterned napkins, so if I ever serve you a drink at my house chances are good it will include a pink plastic monkey hanging from the rim.

And at the top of this urban totem pole, the shining star of this strip mall, the only real reason to come here: A cone precariously propped up against a shamrock, signifying the world of Mashti Malone’s Ice Cream.

The sign itself is part of ice cream history. As the story goes, Mashti bought his ice cream parlor when it was called Mugsy Malone’s and couldn’t afford to change the entire sign, making for the puzzlingly-pleasant, Iranian-Irish mixed message. Inside there is a dual personality as well. On one side are all the flavors you would require to assemble a Baskin Robbins-style cone, but I advise you to stick to the far right side of the case, where you’ll find the real gems. Over here, you’ll be entranced by the mysterious-looking starchy threads of “herbal snow,” the earthy pink of pomegranate sorbet, and not one, but three fragrant rosewater varietals.

My two personal favorites are perhaps two of the most unusual flavors you’ll dip your tongue into (but quite standard for Persian palettes). One one side, orange blossom’s perfumed kiss tastes like LA smells in the winter when all the citrus trees bloom, and is studded with meaty pistachios. And the companion flavor has to be saffron rosewater, where the aromatic rose flavor is cut with a neon yellow savory glow. Like a burst of sunshine from a surprising place on a day when you least expect it.

Where to find this (plus how to get there on public transportation) at Gelatobaby’s GeLAtomap!

It was one of those nights that started—as many summer nights do—by drinking wine on top of a hill as the sun went down.

And eventually covered four neighborhoods, four staircases and two buses—all on your own two feet.

It was one of those nights where popcorn was made just for you by a man named Ruben.

Which is, incidentally, the best dinner in Hollywood.

It was one of those nights where you somehow end up in a carpeted, stained-glass cathedral to debauchery, its interior swirling with smoke. A little slice of Vegas on Temple Street.

Where the band played a song that you had dialed into the jukebox at the last bar, and for a moment it felt like the whole world was tuned in to one cosmic playlist.

Yeah, it was one of those nights. (If this is you, I’m sorry. Really sorry.)

It was one of those nights where you ran into your oldest friends completely accidentally and realized that LA is indeed very small.

So small, in fact, that when you step out of that carpeted, stained-glass room, you realize you’re closer to where you started than you thought. Close enough to walk home, down your favorite street of Victorians, up some more staircases, past still-sizzling taco trucks.

So you do.

June Gloom lifted right on cue! It could not be more July out there today and there are some beautiful summery flavors at Pazzo Gelato to match. I tried Meyer lemon mojito, which was very minty and refreshing but I was in the market for something creamier. So I tried the cajeta, which is kind of a Mexican caramelized condensed milk. To my utter joy there was even a variation with toasted almonds (made today, but not out in the freezer yet, so you have to ask for it), which paired perfectly with my latest obsession, banana gelato. Like a banana split with caramel sauce. In Mexico.

Where to find this? Visit Gelatobaby’s GeLAtomap!

I’m still buzzing from the amazing response to last weekend’s City Listening II (and the success of the Dwell on Design conference, and the fun of emceeing the LABC’s Los Angeles Architectural Awards…I’m telling you, it was quite a week!). We’ll have a full recap of the evening, including photos, very soon, until then, you can read this review by Mike Neal at Architizer.

But before all that, I just wanted to show you this beautiful photo by Monica Orozco, which was taken at the very end of the night, and take a quick moment to thank my two lovely co-hosts—or as you can see from this photo, maybe three lovely co-hosts—Marissa Gluck and Haily Zaki. These ladies are two of the smartest, hardest-working, most creative forces of nature in this city. Over the last two years they have organized and strategized and materialized dozens of events with huge smiles on their faces and strong cocktails in their hands (except, you know, when Haily got knocked up). And in the process, they’ve also become two of my dearest friends. I can’t wait to see what the future will bring! And on that note, here’s what I read at the event to open it up:  Our de LaB manifesto, in rhyme, of course.

The de LaB Manifesto

We were tired of PowerPoints and panels and pretense
Sick of working the room at lame-ass design events
Tired of the stodginess that came with such happenings
We wanted to know what our neighbors were making

La Brea was picked as an arbitrary line,
But we knew wherever we drew it someone would mind
We welcome the Westsiders, they’re not ostracized
As long as they don’t lie about not crossing the 405

What began as a drinking club quickly turned civic
Our visions for the city became more optimistic
Don’t get me wrong, we still like the drinking
Alcohol is liquid innovation to fuel design thinking

de Lab gets people out of cars and into their city
Introduces neighbors and promotes collaborativity
I know that’s not a word, I invented it myself
de LaB is DIY: We do it ourselves

For design in LA we will walk and ride bikes
We take buses and trains and take LA River hikes
We’re a committed gang of creators who can make a difference
We’re raising a new generation of Los Angeles urbanists

Your support has been amazing for the events we’ve had before
There’s a whole LA out there we haven’t begun to explore
All we need is your support…
…actually, no, we really need your money

By drawing a line through the city, divided
We ended up making it feel more united
We love LA so much it makes us feel giddy
Now sit back, have a drink (that part is important!) and listen to your city

Thanks to everyone for coming and for supporting de LaB!

Update: In all the fabulosity of Saturday night, I screwed up and neglected to post the winning raffle tickets for our eight door prizes. If you were at City Listening and had a raffle ticket, check here to see if you won and email us if you did!

It’s going to be a big, fat, designy weekend here in LA and I hope that you can join me for as much of it as you can muster! First up, Friday, Saturday and Sunday is Dwell on Design, the West Coast’s largest design show and one of my favorite conferences of all time.

For the last few weeks I’ve been writing over at Dwell about all the highlights, including a beautiful tile collaboration between Heath Ceramics and Dwell, a free design clinic hosted by my friends at Architizer, Project H’s GreenAid seed bomb vending machines, David Thompson’s lovely Larchmont Village house, the announcement of a new Cleantech Corridor competition for LA, and an exciting collaboration between Dwell and Arkitip on 10 prints of 10 Dwell houses by 10 artists, including this piece by Andrew Holder (who I was thrilled to interview!). Plus, I got to go to Ed Begley, Jr.’s supergreen house—he’s talking Sunday—and we chatted about riding the bus. He does it!

If all that wasn’t a reason to come out, I’ll be speaking there, too, and I hope you can come by and say hi! Saturday at 12:30pm on the Sustainability stage I’m moderating a panel called Improvising and Improving LA Transit, showcasing how three Angelenos have taken a DIY approach to making the city’s transportation better. On my panel are three of my transit heroes: Dan Koeppel, founder of the 35-mile stairwalk named THE BIG PARADE, which I just wrote about here; Richard Ankrom, the artist who took it upon himself to improve an Los Angeles freeway sign (which I wrote about over at GOOD); and Joseph Prichard, a graphic designer who is improving bike signage, and whose Better Bikeways series I edit at GOOD.

And then at 5pm, same day, same stage, I’m moderating another panel, Watts House Project: Architecture, Art, and Sustainability, about one of the most exciting public art projects in the country, the Watts House Project, featuring Edgar Arceneaux, John Umbanhowar and Frank Escher.

And because I love you so much for reading this blog, I’d like to offer you a special discount on the Dwell conference. You’ll receive $15 off the Dwell Exhibition Plus Ticket (50% off the two-day Weekend Pass) if you purchase tickets online before Friday with the code: DWELL8B

But wait, there’s more! Saturday night, after my last panel at Dwell on Design, I’ll be scurrying up Spring Street to the Spring Arts Tower for our very first de LaB fundraiser: City Listening II.

We’ve got a killer lineup of design writers who are all going to be reading stories about LA, including Frances Anderton on “Living With Gehry,” John Chase ruminating about fun-size Twix bars, Sam Lubell reading bible verses, Tibby Rothman with an amazing (and true) art world story, Nick Adams on LA’s “subway,” Chris Nichols from Los Angeles Magazine, LA Creek Freak Joe Linton, LA Times architecture critic Christopher Hawthorne, Rico Gagliano from the PRI show The Dinner Party Download, Brooke Hodge, Adrian Glick Kudler, Tom Marble, Marissa Gluck, and letters to LA from 826LA students. And yes, I’ll be reading my annual poem about design in LA. Plus, anyone who arrives by bike or transit receives a very special walking-themed door prize!

We couldn’t have done any of this without our amazing de LaB community. The event decor is currently being laser-etched by Crimson Collective (the same designers who built that giant bird nesting in the center of this year’s Coachella festival), and we’ll have a silent auction featuring items ranging from beautiful custom-built “barchitecture” by Jason King of Somewhere Something, to a walking tour of West Hollywood’s art and urban design with John Chase, to an amazing airplant sculpture by Kara Bartlet’s toHOLD. Plus, I can’t forget the tireless work of our most valuable de LaB community member: Derrick Schultz, who built our website and designed all the beautiful graphics.

We’ll also have delectable Asian-French eats by Flying Pig courtesy of The Architect’s Newspaper, vegan truffles by Nicobella, our well-named de LaB cocktails, and wine courtesy of FORM. And yes, there will be gelato, well, ice cream—did you really think I could throw a party without it? My good friends at Coolhaus will be serving up mini ice cream sandwiches with a very east-of-La Brea flavor: Horchata!

And because if you’ve read this far I really love you, I want to offer you a discount on City Listening tickets as well, if you purchase online before Saturday. Just use delab to get $5 off regular tickets, which include drinks, food and admission to the show; or delabVIP to get $10 off de LaB Groupie Tickets, which include drinks, food and show plus a guerrilla gardening kit from GreenAid, a very good chance at winning great door prizes, and an after party at the Crocker Club, conveniently located below the venue.

Bonus: If you make it to the after party, you just might get to see me collapse after this overload of awesomeness. Hope to see you there!

One week ago today I woke up in a public park in the heart of Los Angeles to the sound of a jogger’s frenzied footsteps. I emerged from my tent, pitched near the same reservoir I, too, had run around a hundred times. But now everything was different. I had walked to this place from downtown, 16 miles, a few of those miles spent walking up the public stairways that lace through the hilly neighborhoods of LA. I, along with dozens of other people, were now at the halfway mark of the BIG PARADE, a two-day, now-annual, join-when-you-can urban hike.

I looked at the guy chugging down the path and two things suddenly struck me as funny: 1) The thought of running, not walking, and 2) The fact that he was by himself.

You may remember that I had written about last year’s BIG PARADE for GOOD, and about the perceived novelty of walking in LA. But I didn’t finish the walk last year. A dull pain in my left knee had transformed into a quite undull pain by the second day, and at mile 30 I had to quit, missing the final push to the Hollywood sign.

Leaving the walk last year was one of the most depressing choices I have ever made (a choice made slightly better by the self-administration of a very strong painkiller). I saw my role on the walk as that of the militant advocate, the Walker who would show them that yes, people do walk in LA, thankyouverymuch! I would reach that Hollywood sign in a defiant tongue-out to all those sorry drivers who will never know the thrill of spotting a secret staircase in their neighborhood.

But this year I was a little nervous. Of course I still felt that same urgency to walk, but in addition to my severe public hobbling, I had seriously wrenched my ankle on a really big hike a few weeks ago. All I knew is that I really, really wanted to finish. But it was with some trepidation, and not very much training, that I embarked upon this year’s parade.

Beginning at 8am Saturday morning, we departed from Angels Flight and walked 12 hours through the skyscrapers of downtown, through the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels and Disney Hall, into Vista Hermosa Park and Historic Filipinotown, and through a tunnel under the 101.

We went past the Victorians of Angelino Heights into Echo Park, way up into Elysian Heights where we hit a 750-foot summit in Elysian Park, then headed down into the dirt-and-stone stair streets of Fellowship Park, and landed in Silver Lake. You can see all the maps and destinations on the BIG PARADE website.

There we slept in our grassy, completely city-permitted campsite at the Silver Lake Rec Center (which was peaceful and pleasant except for when the clubbers came squawking out of Spaceland at 2am).

The next morning we spent another 12 hours making a loop around the hills of the Silver Lake Reservoir, along the route of a former streetcar, then headed into Franklin Hills and Los Feliz.

In Los Feliz Heights we walked past mansion after mansion into Griffith Park, past the Observatory, through Bronson Canyon, through Beachwood Canyon. And finally, the bonus section: By evening we planned to walk around the Hollywood sign for a final, sunset summit of a legitimate mountain, Mt. Lee.

This year everything was bigger and better. The route was streamlined and improved to encompass some pretty cool landmarks, where people would meet us to talk about LA history like the former Corralitas Red Car streetcar route or building of the Hollywood sign. Live music was waiting for us at two locations as we rested. More people in general knew we were coming, and surprised us with amazing little stands set up with water and fruit and home-baked cookies along the way.

The walk was earlier this year, too, meaning we had the small comfort of June Gloom keeping temperatures cooler and skies cloudier. And there was even a prologue walk, a Friday stroll through the Mt. Washington neighborhood east of downtown.

One of the biggest signs that the word had gotten out came in Echo Park, where we were approached by a cameraman and a reporter from KTLA. Yes, our little band of stairmasters made the local news! You can see Parade founder Dan Koeppel explaining the theory and route, then me, being interviewed by Cheryl Getuiza about what I was most looking forward to during the walk. I even managed to work in a little architectural history to my answer. And I managed to walk, talk and smile without tripping or falling. (This is big for me. For someone with “walk” in her name, you’d really think I’d be better at it.)

By the time we reached the point where I’d had to quit last year, I was feeling good. So good, in fact, I was able to stop for gelato at Gelato Bar on Hillhurst. Let’s be honest, though, I would have stopped there even if I was feeling bad.

But the emotional moment came for me right here, as we entered Griffith Park and started walking into Hollywood, with Griffith Observatory hanging like a planet in the sky. We were now walking into my old neighborhood, with all the trails and streets that I had explored during my first years in LA. I remember spending unemployed afternoons here, finding new staircases and paths, always thinking—like I heard many other stair enthusiasts say—I had discovered them all by myself.

As we dipped briefly back into my old neighborhood, Bronson Canyon, then up the beautiful stone stairs of Beachwood Canyon, it started to get dark. (You can watch this part, as well as the entire two days unfold, backwards, by reading my dutiful Twittering over at @BIGPARADELA)

We hit the road that wraps around the Hollywood sign like a long, wide ramp to the top. You can see the letters sideways mid-photo. The sun was starting to set and the wind was cool and damp.

But as we reached the saddle and walked onto the Burbank side, different air welled up from the Valley, warm and dry, creating an incredible temperature inversion that, unbelievably, lasted all the way to the peak.

Finally, we rounded the last bend. This is always a dramatic moment; you’re above the Hollywood sign, with those iconic letters reversed-out below you. But tonight the entire LA Basin was socked in with cloud cover, and we were quite literally floating above it.

Up here the sky was completely clear, the air was warm and dry and the only sound was the remarkably discernible performance happening at the Hollywood Bowl, a few miles and a freeway away. We posed for a group photo and people started to head back down, descending into the clouds that were streaming over gaps in the hills like waterfalls. Soon it was completely dark except for the flashlights bobbing light onto other people’s backs in the distance. I didn’t want to leave, hanging back until the very end to get my own moment on top of Los Angeles, the final notes of the Playboy Jazz Festival drifting into the sky.

The question that people ask me most about last weekend is an obvious one:  How did you feel the next day? The answer is absolutely great. I was sore, of course, and for two days I had a little trouble walking down the stairs in my own house. But any physical pain was anathesized by a pure, emotional buzz. Sure, I’ve done harder physical things. I’ve climbed bigger mountains. But the high from last weekend was unmatched. And then I realized why.

Last year this staircase scramble was just a finish line drawn above the Hollywood sign, an endurance contest, a chance to chalk up miles. It was something to prove, the same way I’d cranked through too many half-marathons or a truly insane mid-August 25K in the hills of Malibu. (It was really fun. But still. Kinda dumb for someone with ankles made from chewing gum.) I was out there killing myself thanks to some weird agenda.

This time I was just…walking.

And talking. This time, I actually met some new friends. Instead of being so focused on my mission to make it, I got to know the people I fell into step with, matching conversation topics to their sneakers to remember them for later. I gave people encouragement when they were feeling apprehensive, and, when they called it quits, gave directions to help people get back home on the bus. It wasn’t about who made it how far, it was about who joined us along the way. It wasn’t about steps at all, but the people—and dogs, there were lots of dogs!—who use them.

For the past week my brain has been buzzing with thoughts that all begin the same way: “Next year.” But instead of setting my own personal goals, I’m setting goals for the group. Next year we’ll set a new record of 100 people walking at one time. Next year we’ll have 20 tents in the campsite. Next year we’ll have even more people who give us bananas or brownies or water along the way. Next year we’re putting together a walking and step-themed soundtrack for pure motivation. Next year we’ll find someone to let us jump in their pool, dammit! Next year we could link the official walk and the prologue into an amazing, three-day Mt. Washington-to-Mt. Lee trek.

Next year…well, let’s just say I really can’t wait for next year. And I hope you’ll be there, too. It wouldn’t be the same without you.

Big Parade creator Dan Koeppel will be on a panel that I’m moderating at this weekend’s Dwell on Design conference named Improvising and Improving L.A. Transit. Here’s more information and a discount code.

You can see all my photos as well as the photos of all Big Paraders.