County fair is an undiscovered treat for longtime Angeleno
I've grown my own vegetables and made my daughters take horseback riding lessons. I've pulled off the freeway in search of the carnival attached to distant Ferris wheel lights. My favorite childhood memories are of helping slop the hogs and collect eggs from the henhouse on my grandparents' farm.
But until this weekend, my 30 years in Southern California had never included a visit to the Los Angeles County Fair in Pomona.
It was too far from my home in the San Fernando Valley; too hot, too crowded, too country, I thought.
But I was bored this weekend and tired of being alone. So I went online and printed out the fair's nine-page schedule for Sunday, then circled attractions that appealed to me: wine tasting, cow milking, healthy cooking, rose-pruning. . . .
9:10 a.m.
I arrive early at Union Station downtown for the 10 a.m. train to San Bernardino, which stops this month at the fairgrounds shuttle. It costs me $14 to park and an additional $10.50 for the round-trip Metrolink ticket, but I'm glad to have company.
The train was an hour late. But the crowd on the platform is mellow, and I feel among friends by the time we board. Patricia, a fair visitor for 20 years, warns me that the last train back is 6:15, but if I miss it, I could take a taxi to the bus.
Not a chance. I'm thinking the 4:10 train will be just fine.
11 a.m.
We're heading east on a near-empty train, past tract homes, bus yards and trailer parks. An old guy wearing a hearing aid and a purple baseball cap is fretting that we won't arrive in time. He doesn't want to miss the first post at the Fairplex racetrack.
11:50 a.m.
I follow Mr. Purple Hat into the grandstand. I've never been to a horse race and I'm not much of a gambler. But I love horses. A nice man explains the wagering system and I spend $2.25 on a program. I choose my horses by the names I like (Sweet Pretty Girl and Play Nine) or the way they prance as they warm up on the track. I lose $8 betting on three races, then win -- $3.80 on a $2 bet.
I take my winnings to the bar, where a mojito in a plastic cup is $15. I get a $3.25 soda instead and listen to the Joe Vegas band's version of Carlos Santana. With no one I know around, I'm free to play air guitar and dance.
2:05 p.m.
