If you want to talk about ironic, how about a city based on the idea of getting away from the “polluted” (meaning air quality and people of color) and crowded cites of the east ending up one of the most “polluted” city in the country? I’m talking about Riverside, California, where people came for the fresh orange juice and dry desert air but stay for the obesity and industrial strength (man that meth stinks!) smog. Now before I start to get hate mail, or threats from the guardians of the Inland Empire, let me say, I’m joking about the meth thing, and I really love what the Republican’s did with the place (they were responsible for providing SoCal’s first polo grounds and golf course). It’s a weird city in a way: white people developing a place in the fantasy image of those Spanish missions, while trying to keep Mexicans (and Blacks, Asians, and Jews I bet) out (the Mexicans who worked in the citrus fields lived in the barrios), but after all these years the original architecture finally reflects the diverse population that lives in it.

So my girlfriend had another conference to go to, and this time they put us up in the historic Mission Inn, whose doors were open since 1876 (well, except for those years it was being renovated). The hotel is really a History Channel buff’s wet dream, as so many dignitaries and celebrities have stayed in these famed rooms (think about it, where else were they gonna stay?)

I was hungry when we checked-in late at night, and figuring room service would be shut down for the night, I was lucky that they were still serving dessert – this chocolate pecan tart, with some ice cream (triple-vanilla bean, baby!) and warm caramel sauce on top. It was rich and gooey and I went to bed happy.



When I woke up I decided to do some exploring (don’t you LOVE exploring a hotel), looking over the balcony noticing the pool (nobody swam but there were some people sunbathing) and then walking around. There are so many nooks and crannies to get into because the hotel was built in several phases, and so there’s like five different architectural concepts slapped together here. I won’t bore you with the details of that now, but if you didn’t already click on the link to the hotel’s website, check out this decent Wiki entry.

They call this section “Author’s Row”

The suites have special doors, I suppose it was the Excalibur of its day.
and I found their much talked about Rotunda Then I walked downstairs and to the main lobby where you can see pictures of all the presidents that stayed here.
And of course, there is much love for Reagan (who went on his honeymoon here) and Bush.

And apparently President Taft was so big they had to make him this special chair – which he wasn’t too flattered about.

I went outside to take a shot of the front entrance, since it was dark when we arrived, and I overheard an old couple who were walking to an old theatre down the block. As it turns out, Gone With The Wind premiered on this screen on September 9, 1939, and after some rough years it’s being fixed-up into a performing arts center.

here’s how it looked some years ago:
I’m semi-addicted to Google Earth, and I saw that I could be kooky and seek out the “World’s Largest Paper Cup,” (one tall order, at over three stories high) located at the now closed Dixie Corporation at the intersection of Iowa and Palmyrita.

Wanting to investigate the area some more, I took Mission Boulevard out to the next town called Rubidoux. They’ve even got their own drive-in, something that got me really excited. The Marquee listed The Eye and Cloverfield as a double feature, and that sounded like a fun night out, so I drove up to see about screening times but no one was around, and nothing was, so I figured I’d go look it up when I got back to the room.

My girlfriend was pooped after a whole day of taking notes, so after we got brought some El Pollo Loco back to the room (I’m too broke to eat at this hotel this week), she went to bed and I watched that Nick Cassavetes film, Alpha Dog, on HBO.
Waking up the next day, which was Valentines Day, I knew I had to find a florist but I also wanted to check some more stuff out. I drove to the California Citrus State Historic Park to see some oranges, I guess. I mean, what else was I gonna do? And it was from Riverside that the first refrigerated trains left to deliver oranges across the country. On the way I saw another drive-in called, The Van Buren, and I was starting to think that the Inland Empire looked like a great place to live.

This was probably the first time I ever saw orange groves and SNOW, and check out how my pic kinda looks like that old postcard (I’m not gonna get into making it look retro now, but you get the idea). Some things never change, I guess, and in this case I hope it stays that way.

After another long day of taking notes, my girlfriend was ready to go home, so we said goodbye to the hotel, and took Mission Inn Avenue west where it becomes Buena Vista Avenue for a second.


This photo as well as the other old postcards are from InlandEmpire.us
I’d like to come back to hike up Mt. Rubidoux, which was on the left of us, but I pulled over to the right just before a little bridge takes you over a slightly wet Santa Ana River. I recall a marker on Google Earth that cites this as the spot where Beat writer Jack Kerouac slept under the stars like a hobo, except it didn’t really say that, and the post erroneously calls it the Los Angeles River.


It was in his book after On The Road, called The Dharma Bums (which chronicles his travels between 1956-1957), where he found himself needing to get out of a sticky situation in L.A.

The only thing to do was to get out of L.A. According to my friend’s instructions I stood on my head, using the wire fence to prevent me from falling over. It made my cold feel a little better. Then I walked to the bus station (through tracks and side streets) and caught a cheap bus twenty-five miles to Riverside. Cops kept looking at me suspiciously with that big bag on my back. Everything was far away from the easy purity of being with Japhy Ryder in that high rock camp under peaceful singing stars.

It took exactly the entire twenty-five miles to get out of the smog of Los Angeles; the sun was clear in River-side. I exulted to see a beautiful dry river bottom with white sand and just a trickle river in the middle as we rolled over the bridge into Riverside. I was looking for my first chance to camp out for the night and try out my new ideas. But at the hot bus station a Negro saw me with my pack and came over and said he was part Mohawk and when I told him I was going back up the road to sleep in that river bottom he said “No sir, you can’t do that, cops in this town are the toughest in the state. If they see you down there they’ll pull you in. Boy,” said he, “I’d like to sleep outdoor too tonight but’s against the law.”

WE didn’t want to get stuck rush hour traffic going back to Los Angeles, so we decided to take Mission Blvd into Montclair, where for cryin’ out loud, there’s another drive-in! This one’s called, THE MISSION TIKI DRIVE-IN THEATRE, and just like the name suggests it’s Tiki heaven. They even have retro movie and car nights. It’s still like American Graffiti out here, and I dig it. Remember, it’s Valentines Day, and what better place to be than at the drive in with your girl, like Danny and Sandy, except in my case, it was Danny and Lee. And guess what they were playing? You got it, THE EYE and CLOVERFIELD!

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