#33 The Brush Canyon Trail

were the greatest thing of all. China didn’t care; she told Liz she was peckish. Liz told her to wait for supper, they were almost done, and that they would decide where to go tomorrow. Liz was right; from there, they went back to the bus stop.

Dinner was a pie made out of the leftovers and a salad with homemade Sour Cream Ranch Dressing. Liz made a small pie for her out of the tofu turkey that she was asked to leave. She made it perfect, and everybody received a perfect portion. There were no more leftovers. They discussed where to go next. Liz decided they would go to see the stars in the sidewalk, the HOLLYWOOD sign, and Paramount, allowing a day for each.

It was surprising that the stars in the sidewalk took almost the whole day. They started out with a hearty breakfase of eggs and bacon, including home fries and toast. Of course, there was tofu bacon for China. There was enough for the whole visit, if portioned out correctly. It took about an hour to get there and about another hour to find parking and walk to Hollywood Boulevard. It wouldn’t normally take all day to see them all, but there were street venders and buskers too. It was a colourful and moving thing. Something else that was there, was the hand and foot prints, date, along with their signature, and maybe a message, of the rich and famous on a block of cement. China didn’t know about that, or wasn’t paying attention on the tour. Each ‘star’ was reddish and in-laid against a black background. It had sparkly flecks, their name, and a symbol of what they were famous for in-laid in brass. A person could walk on them, around them, read them, or take picture with them; whatever one fancied. The 3 boys bought matching ‘Hollywood’ sunglasses, so China did too. Liz said they were too garish, but China said she would always remember this trip, how she felt, and some way through the cheap glasses, be connected to her brothers. She sat around outside, chit-chatting with brothers while Al barbecued burgers. Inside, Liz made potatoe salad and strawberry milkshakes.

The next day, they drove back to Hollywood, and looked for parking. This time they went to the outskirts of town. They were told to wear something rugged, and a hat, because they would be hiking to the Hollywood sign, after they found parking. They parked, and got on the trail; they walked two abreast, sometimes five. When she walked next to Liz, she immediately started talking about the sisters. China didn’t want to hear about the sisters, but sometimes she walked right up to her on purpose, and just let her talk. She stayed agreeable; that way she knew she was saving her brother. She basically traded places with him, ae hiked by himself, and the two other brothers always stuck together. The Brush Canyon Trail was hot, dry, and there was very little shade. It was a good thing Liz told them to bring a drink, so they each brought a pop. They got thirsty right away, so drank it, then they didn’t want to carry the empty can, so threw it in the bushes, but then each of them had to go to the bathroom, so they waited until they were alone, and took turns watching out for each other. They all went to Liz, who was carrying the toilet paper, and who portioned it out carefully, saving some for the walk back. They all went behind one of the many garbage bins along the way, and threw the soiled paper away, up in the bush, like Liz told them to do. They each thought about the washrooms that were at the beginning of the trail, while going, but Liz said they public, so dirty. They reached a point where it leveled off, not so up, more shady, when Liz said it would be fifteen minutes before they reached the sign. She described the whole thing, and said she would tell them when it was time to take pictures. Reaching the actual sign was anti-climactic, as it was fenced off, and it was the the back. You could see it better from further away. It wasn’t safe to climb; the fence might be electric. One of brothers took a picture, and China did too, then Liz gave the signal, so they all headed back down.