Winding Street Tells Tale of L.A., Past and Present

Following Sepulveda 150 years ago was harder than you’d think. Today it still is.

Francisco Sepulveda became wealthy as one of the founding inhabitants of the Pueblo de Los Angeles in 1781. But his offspring had difficulty continuing in his path.

These days, his namesake Sepulveda Boulevard is Los Angeles’ longest city street. And motorists trying to travel its length find that isn’t easy to do either.

Stretching 40 miles between Long Beach and the San Fernando Valley’s Mission Hills, Sepulveda Boulevard also is considered the longest street in the county.

As it meanders from the mountains toward the sea and from leafy suburbs through the region’s most robust industrial area, it also passes through some of the most diverse sections of the county.

In a way, the roadway is a perfect tribute to Sepulveda.

He was a pioneering settler who at age 6 came with his Spanish colonial-soldier father to be part of the group that established the Los Angeles pueblo. As an adult, Sepulveda became a successful cattle rancher who in 1839 was granted what is now Santa Monica by the king of Spain.

His 30,260-acre spread, Rancho San Vicente y Santa Monica, extended from present-day Sepulveda Boulevard to the ocean and included oak and sycamore-studded canyons along with grazing land.

Sepulveda’s heirs couldn’t hang onto the land, however. Bad investments, gambling debts and legal expenses incurred in proving their land claims after the war between Mexico and the United States forced some of them to sell off property. Droughts in 1863-64 finished off many cattle herds.

Los Angeles officials in 1925 began naming what now totals 25.4 miles of Sepulveda Boulevard in their city in honor of Francisco Sepulveda. The Valley community of Sepulveda was named after him in 1927 -- although the area was renamed North Hills in 1991.

It is in the nearby community of Mission Hills that Sepulveda Boulevard starts.

“You’re driving all that way and you’re just buying $5 worth of gas? Good luck.”

That was the reaction of Osly Guerrero, a cashier at the USA Gasoline station at Sepulveda Boulevard’s northern end -- where it morphs into an onramp to the northbound San Diego Freeway.

Guerrero, a resident of Los Angeles’ Mid-City area, was curious when told that Sepulveda extends from the north Valley to the Long Beach area. He has never driven its length. And knows no one who has.

The boulevard descends a long hill from Rinaldi Street as it leads to Mile One, which is marked by a business strip anchored by the Bear Pit BBQ restaurant, a 50-year-old local landmark.

The eatery’s signpost depicts a huge bear lazing after a satisfying meal. It conjures up an image of the grizzlies that are said to have dined often on Francisco Sepulveda’s cattle as they were being herded along what was then a dusty trail leading toward the Santa Monica Mountains.

The boulevard passes through working-class neighborhoods of apartment buildings, clusters of motels and small businesses in the mid-Valley. High-rises line its intersection with the south Valley’s Ventura Boulevard.

It goes past neighborhoods of expensive single-family homes as it lifts off the Valley floor and climbs into the mountains. At the top, it passes through the Sepulveda Pass tunnel, which was bored through sandstone in 1930, five years before the roadway itself was completed to provide a direct link between the Valley and the Westside.

The 3 1/2-mile stretch of two-lane boulevard south of the tunnel passes through brush-covered hills. It is where Los Angeles traffic engineers are considering creating a $12-million reversible third traffic lane to relieve rush-hour congestion.

Bicyclists and many residents of the wealthy Mountaingate neighborhood and of nearby Brentwood and Bel-Air oppose the traffic plan. They say it would be dangerous for motorists and cyclists alike. An environmental impact report is due soon.

The boulevard reenters the urban area and crosses Wilshire Boulevard at about Mile 17. In West Los Angeles, a hodgepodge of nondescript shops and parking lots finally gives way to one of the boulevard’s most architecturally unusual buildings: a bronze-topped glass structure at Mile 19 that is headquarters for Westside parking enforcement officers.

Rows of half-century-old storefronts mark the first of the boulevard’s two brief encounters with Culver City. From there it climbs into a hilltop neighborhood of single-family homes in Westchester.

At Mile 26 it passes the entrance to Los Angeles International Airport and descends into a tunnel built in 1953 beneath LAX’s south runways. Traffic reemerges in El Segundo. At Mile 29 the boulevard reaches Manhattan Beach.

It is at Mile 31 at the gateway to Hermosa Beach that things get interesting.

Without warning, Sepulveda Boulevard disappears at its intersection with Artesia Boulevard. It turns out that in Hermosa Beach the street is called Pacific Coast Highway. And there are no signs explaining the name change, or that Sepulveda Boulevard resumes a few miles away.

According to Hermosa Beach City Historian John Hales, the PCH name was adopted in 1947, apparently to end a dispute over whether the roadway should be called Sepulveda Boulevard or Camino Real.

After about a 3 1/2-mile gap, Sepulveda Boulevard reappears, turning east through Torrance. After passing through five miles of mixed residential and commercial neighborhoods, it travels through a narrow part of Los Angeles and a tiny, unincorporated strip before entering Carson.

At Mile 38, the boulevard takes on a blue-collar, working-man’s look. A huge oil tank farm looms into view, followed by Conoco-Phillips and BP gasoline refineries, the new Alameda Corridor transportation depot, container ship terminal areas and more petroleum facilities. Unceremoniously, Sepulveda Boulevard fades away at the Long Beach City limits. There, it is named Willow Street.

The last business on Sepulveda’s south end is a transportation maintenance company named PSC that is tucked behind a tall fence at Mile 40.

Accounting department worker Lupe Aguilera was surprised when a visitor walked in the front door and announced that he had driven down Sepulveda from the Valley.

“No, I’ve never done that,” said Aguilera of Torrance.

“But I do have a cousin who used to take Sepulveda when she lived in Santa Monica and wanted to go to her sister’s in Pacoima. She was afraid to drive the freeway.”

Sometimes doing things the old way is easiest.