It May Not Be Summer, but It’s Time to Hit the Beach

When Larry Stines, 80, felt warm air dribbling from his wheezing air conditioner Sunday morning, he inserted a gold loop into his left earlobe, grabbed a bus pass, made sure his teeth were firmly in place and declared himself ready for the beach.

Scientists say summer starts June 21, when the sun is at its northernmost zenith. But Angelenos know it really begins on days like Saturday and Sunday, when dog parks crowd with panting pups, long lines form at auto washes and corners fill with boys on chrome bicycles watching girls walk past.

When, in other words, it is very hot. And when it is very hot, many agree, there is no better place than the beach.

Temperatures in downtown Los Angeles hit 86 degrees, according to the National Weather Service, several notches below the day’s record high of 94 degrees set in 1967, but still hot enough for Stines and tens of thousands of others to have headed west until they hit water.

Record-setting highs in some places soared past 100 degrees, according to the National Weather Service. Woodland Hills stewed at 104, shattering the 1988 record of 101. Palm Springs boiled over at 112, upsetting the 2001 record by 1 degree. Elsewhere, Anaheim hit 90, Riverside climbed to 97 and Lancaster baked at 96. Cities near the coast, such as Santa Monica and Ventura, recorded temperatures in the high 70s.

The National Weather Service predicts slightly cooler conditions at the beaches and downtown today, with highs in the lower 90s inland in places such as Burbank and Pasadena. Anaheim and Ventura are expected to reach the high 70s to mid-80s.

In Manhattan Beach, Los Angeles County lifeguard Capt. Tom Seth had to hire temporary lifeguards. Huge crowds at South Bay beaches Saturday resulted in more than 150 rescues, and Seth, 37, expected even more beachgoers and rescues before the day ended Sunday.

“It’s crazy this weekend because it’s so crowded,” said Larry Carstensen, beach maintenance supervisor for the county Department of Beaches and Harbors. “When we go out there tonight, we’ll find cellphones, wallets, passports, radios -- you name it, we’ll find it. I bet we’ll even find a few couches. People like to carry them down, but then they get too tired to bring them home.”

Stines and his housemate, Raymond Bravo, 64, decided to go to the beach in Santa Monica when the sun was still rising Sunday, so they boarded the bus a few blocks from their home just south of downtown Los Angeles and started the hourlong trek.

Stines said he ran away from home when he was a teenager in Pueblo, Colo., and spent a number of years roaming the country before landing in Los Angeles half a century ago. When he arrived, the first thing he did was go to the beach. He stripped off his sweaty shirt and tore off his sneakers and ran to the water.

Stines and Bravo moved in with another companion more than a decade ago after both retired and grew worried they would die alone. “When I’m cremated, they can bring my ashes here, to the water,” Stines said, trying to flag down a boy walking past with a plastic tub filled with colas and bottled water.

The young boy missed Stines’ signal and continued down the beach. “Water, soda!” James Soto, 12, shouted as he dragged his bucket. He and his parents come every Sunday to sell drinks. Once he sells 600 of them, he can go swimming. At 12:30 p.m., he had only 50 more to go.

A dozen miles away, Seth manned his lifeguard tower. He knew the heat would bring huge crowds. But when he found out Friday night that an unusual west-by-northwest swell was causing large waves, he prepared for a busy weekend.

His two-way radio suddenly squawked. About 100 feet away, two girls had swum into an area the lifeguards know is rife with riptides. Seth jumped into his truck and sped to the water, where he swam out to the girls and dragged them to the beach.

“It gets hot and all of Los Angeles has the same idea,” Seth said as he prepared for the next rescue. “Everyone wants to be at the beach.”

He ran a hand over a chin crossed with thin, sun-bleached scars and smiled. “It’s going to be a good summer,” he said.