It was a lovely day, so we drove out to a local detention basin at the western foothills near our house. There wasn’t any good parking. All the nearby developments were gated communities, and we didn’t want to take our Odyssey up a gravel utility road.
So we drove back down a long suburban block to the closest elementary school. Fortunately, this extremely upscale development had created a linear park along the thoroughfare. This was no mere sidewalk. It wound back and forth and looped under itself (twice!) with unnecessary pedestrian bridges buttressed by gabion walls. Along the route, there was a large lawns which was populated with little mounds. The kids loved running up and down this bumpy plain.
At the end of this luxurious walk, we turned up the gravel utility road, slipped through a gap in the guard rail at the storm channel, and suddenly found ourselves in the middle of the desert.
At the upper rim of the basin you could look all the way out to the Strip.
In the bowl, you could only see the hills and sky.
A few months ago, I had hiked alone to this detention basin via a decidedly less bourgeois route, coming down from the hills via an arroyo, following the storm channel into this space. I already knew this was a pretty cool spot, and it was nice to share this place with the rest of the family.
Admittedly, the gratuitous walk with fancy trashcans that looks like planters is also enjoyable, but the pleasure of the linear park is dampened by its artifice. In contrast, the detention basin is real, a piece of infrastructure that exists because we insist on occupying this desert valley.
Unlike the linear park that tries to be something, this basin just is.