Los Angeles – Paul Cervantes

Imagine being Bobby Riggs at age 21 or 55…

In 1939, at 21, Bobby Riggs wins everything at Wimbledon. Singles… Doubles… Mixed doubles. Ever the gambler, Riggs maintained that by betting on himself he won $100,000. He was, obviously, a very different kind of amateur.

Bobby Riggs was born in 1918 and grew up in a relatively shitty working-class area of Los Angeles called Lincoln Heights. Long before his historic triumph at Wimbledon, he’d been branded a mere hustler and a gambler and was shunned by the amateur tennis scene at the Los Angeles Tennis Club and beyond.

From 1939 until 1972, he was totally off the tennis stage, such that it was back then, and living in complete anonymity. Of course, the Great Depression had something to do with this as did the fact that Riggs, like all of his contemporaries, were well-beyond their tennis primes by the time the Open Era of Tennis arrived in 1968.

Finally, Riggs or someone else, stumbled upon the battle of the sexes schtick that defined the rest of his life. I wonder who we have to thank for that? Like all schticks, it revived his fame though it did so at the cost of a great diminishment of the impact of the superb play during his earlier life. History, as it so happens, was usurped by notoriety. I wonder how that felt in Rigg’s heart of hearts? To be fair, it wasn’t like he consciously chose fame over his storied history as a player. He simply must have grabbed onto fame like the lifeline it was especially to bespectacled a tennis player in his mid-50s whom few had ever even heard of.

Something about Los Angeles helps to create hustlers and I wonder why that’s true. Trevino & Hogan would have gotten eaten alive out here. Sure, they could handle the heat and humidity of Texas but the glare and grit of Hollywood would have wilted them. Somehow, unlikely guys like Riggs & Pancho Gonzales thrived in Los Angeles, in their ways, at least for a while.

Riggs and Billie Jean King in the early 70s during the Battle of the Sexes Era

I’m still on the idea of hiking from home to the Conejo Valley. There’s a chance I’ll need to Uber it from the end of the trail to the hotel, and most assuredly to the bar.

Right now, it looks like a 3.2 mile walk from home to the trailhead and then between 11-13 miles to the destination. The weather today (windless and 70 degrees) would have been perfect. Though I am hoping we’ll get more rain, the forecast for the next 10 days is for clear, clear and still more clear.

I’m not hiding from the fact that the whole idea is predicated on the need for a minor vacation and an even more minor adventure. But more than anything, I want to stay focused on goal after attainable and foreseeable goal. And this winter seemed like a good opportunity to explore and learn more about the many trails of the valley of my birth and to do something fun and unusual.

The trails west of Valley Circle have one significant quality in common. They look, at least I think they look, very much like the area must have looked 150-200 years ago.

That’s a long time, for a place on the westernmost edge of the City of Los Angeles.

At this point, I am anticipating that 3 mile road-walk I mentioned earlier to the Bell Canyon trailhead. Then, I imagine a southward traverse to El Escorpion, then another southwestern transition to the Victory Trailhead. At this point, I am still not sure where I’ll pop out in Thousand Oaks or Westlake but I know there will be a good Old Fashioned within walking distance. Here are a couple pics I grabbed today. More about them and the trail conditions tomorrrow.

By the way, tonight’s writing soundtrack is Industry, the 1997 record by Richard Thompson and Danny Thompson. Tonight, as always, I especially enjoyed Sweetheart on the Barricade.

Thanks for reading.