Photo Essay: The Rose Parade, Never on a Sunday Edition

One of the biggest traditions in the LA area—one that is of national repute—is the annual Rose Parade.



Every year on New Year's Day, dozens of floats, marching bands, and teams of horses parade down Orange Grove, Colorado, and Sierra Madre Boulevards to wish the camped-out locals "Happy New Year."



That is, unless New Year's Day is on a Sunday, like it was this year.



Both the Rose Bowl game and Rose Parade operate under a pact to never operate on a Sunday...



...so, in the rare cases that New Year's Day falls on a Sunday, the big events in Pasadena get moved to Monday, January 2.



My first time actually watching the parade was last year, when I forewent all monetary concerns and splurged on a ticket to a viewing party, high above the Paseo on Colorado Boulevard—which is more or less "ground zero" for the Rose Parade.



This year, I wanted to try something a little closer to street level, so I joined a viewing party closer to the northern terminus of the parade route, a less popular but still crowded area.



And this time, I brought a friend who was a first-timer.



Are the floats different every year? she asked.

Oh, yes they are. And this was the first working rollercoaster I'd seen. (Kudos to the Downey Rose Float Association.)



Are the bands just from local schools? she asked.



Oh no, they are not. They come from as far as Georgia and Texas to perform in the parade (and at Bandfest).



Are they all made of flowers? she asked.



Well, not entirely, but pretty much every inch of every bird, bear, dragon, and whatnot is covered by some natural material. And the really good ones—like the fire-breather from the Rotary Foundation—have some action going on besides just the roses and other flowers.



And it's not just marching, either—but also dancing, baton twirling, flag carrying, and so on.



For everyone performing in the parade, this is serious business.



The passion is infectious.



But beyond those who make their "Journey to the West" to actually walk the parade route, there are also the hundreds of volunteers (come of whom travel as well) who donate their time to build and decorate the floats...



...those who ensure their safe passage from wherever in LA County they were built and decorated to Pasadena...



...and those who make sure everything runs smoothly along the route (including the unseen drivers who likely can't see where they're going).



This year's Grand Marshal was Olympian Greg Louganis, not only because 2016 marked the 40th anniversary of his first Olympic medal, but also because of LA's bid for the 2024 Summer Games.



We even got our annual visit from the Budweiser Clydesdales and their pal dalmatian.



This event is all about LA pride—and that includes encouraging our Trojans to "Fight On."



Every year, though, the Rose Parade does have a different theme—and while this year's was "Echoes of Success," that got expressed very differently depending on the float.



Whether it was "Waves of Hope" or "To Honor and Remember Orlando"...



...or "Books Bring Us Together," our different ideas about success—even if it was just about rising above adversity—echoed throughout the two-hour parade.



Over on that stretch of Sierra Madre, the street is wider and the buildings are shorter...



...giving the parade a real "hometown" feel that I don;t think could ever be accomplished by, say, the Thanksgiving Day Parade in Manhattan.



But the more I witness the Rose Parade, the more I regret not at least trying to watch the Thanksgiving parade in New York.



But while our tradition has been somewhat corporatized (it is sponsored by Honda, after all), we still get to see the Twenty Mule Team recreating their appearance 100 years ago at the Rose Parade...



...and celebrating the legacy of one of the most recognizable icons of the Old West (and of Borax).



We celebrate La Cañada Flintridge, where a "backyard rocketeer" can set in motion a series of events that lead to deep space missions.



We turn over "A New Leaf," especially when things don't go exactly as planned. (The Cal-Poly chameleon, for instance, lot an animatronic eyeball and didn't change colors like it was supposed to.)



We've got our California milk...



...and we drink it, too.



We embrace our lions...



...and the rest of our wildlife, too.



And we're proud of our skyscrapers being a little different than anywhere else.



We applaud our military.



Our firefighters save kittens from our trees.



And we never give up—even if we finish last. (As long as we finish.)



It's a shame that South Pasadena Tournament of Roses—the oldest self-built float in the Rose Parade—didn't win an award for their The Tortoise and the Hare-themed float, after completing it against all odds. Their decorating shed was burgled several times over the past year, which meant they lost building materials and other supplies more than once.

But they did win the National Trophy last year, and there's always next year...

Related Posts:
Photo Essay: New Year's Day at the Rose Parade
Photo Essay: The Floats of the Rose Parade, 2015
Photo Essay: Rose Parade 2014 Floats, In Progress
Photo Essay: The House of Chewing Gum and Roses
Photo Essay: The Marching Bands of the Rose Parade, 2016
Photo Essay: The Horses of the Rose Parade
Photo Essay: Welcoming 100 Mules to LA After Walking the Aqueduct

Photo Essay: The First Monday of 2023 at the Pasadena Rose Parade

The last time I'd gone to the Rose Parade, it was 2020—and the year had already started off weird, even before the COVID-19 pandemic had taken hold. 

In 2021, it was canceled because of the pandemic. And in 2022, I'd had such a good time celebrating New Year's Eve the night before, I couldn't bear to get up early enough to make it to the parade on time. 

 

 Parade sponsor, Honda

But this year, New Year's Day once again fell on a Sunday—as it did in 2017—so the Rose Parade took place on Monday, January 2, giving me a one-day buffer/recovery day. 

Photo Essay: A Festival of Rose Parade Floats, 2025

Going to Floatfest after the Rose Parade is a totally different experience than watching the Rose Parade live—but even so, sometimes I only do one or the other. 

 

This year, I did both—mostly because I left the Rose Parade a little early and missed a couple of floats (and was feeling so ill during the parade I was sure I'd missed out on a lot of details).

Photo Essay: Getting My Horse On In Preparation for the Rose Parade, 2025

It had been 10 years since I'd attended Equestfest, the Tournament of Roses equine exhibition, in the days before the Rose Parade. And this year I found myself revisiting a few things that I hadn't done for a decade. 

 

So I decided to go back. After all, I enjoy a day out with the horses.

Photo Essay: Starting Over at the Rose Parade (In the Rain)

Sometimes I like to not have a plan for New Year's Day, and just see when I wake up and decide on the spur of the moment if I want to go to the Rose Parade. I'll drive over there, snag a last-minute parking spot, and find somewhere to stand. 

But when I did that last year, I didn't love the position I got—too crowded, too many trees in the way, too tired to stand the whole time. And given the fact that I didn't love my view the year before that (with seats facing the back of the floats), last February I decided to finally spring for official Rose Parade grandstand seats. 

I spent a long time researching the different areas, looking for one without tall buildings casting shadows or trees, light poles, or street signs to obstruct the view. I got front row grandstand, far enough down the parade route so I wouldn't have to get there super early, and where I would more likely be able to find free parking at the last minute. 

I was going to start 2026 off right!

 

But 2026 had other plans for me. 

Photo Essay: Ringing In 2018 at the Rose Parade

I didn't think I needed to see the Rose Parade again, after having gone last year and the year before. But I was wrong.

After just five hours of sleep, and after having been bedridden for four days, I found myself awake the morning of January 1, 2018 at 5:30 a.m.—with no chance of falling back to sleep, no plans for the day, and no desire to spend yet another day in bed.



So, to Pasadena I went—having had plenty of time and enough experience with going in the past to drive my car, find a free parking spot, and scout out a good viewing location from the street, no overnight camping necessary.



In the year that had passed since the last time I watched the Rose Parade live and in person, I'd somehow convinced myself that it was just about the flower-festooned floats, which I could just go see at the Post-Parade Viewing like I did back in 2015...



...forgetting, of course, about all the classic cars (like George Bailey's black 1919 Dodge Brothers Touring Car from It's a Wonderful Life, with Grand Marshall Gary Sinese in the back).



And every year, the Rose Parade isn't just a visual experience—you also listen to it, the marching bands with their horns and drums and chants and footsteps.



Why settle for a static display, when the procession is alive?



The motorcycle cops kick things off with their fancy formations, and then all manner of equine, canine, and human follow suit—and even if I'd watched it on TV, it wouldn't have been the same (or, quite frankly, satisfying).



The really grasp the enormity of the scale, I had to stand there along Sierra Madre Boulevard...



...the sun beating down on my back, and blue sky ahead interrupted only by the tableau of the San Gabriel Mountains.



In fact, some of these creations were so tall that they had to stop just a short distance from where I was standing and lower their upper reaches in order to make it through the last leg of their journey—under the 210 Freeway overpass.



I know that some of these floats could move and spin and toggle, but I had no idea how modular they had to be just to get around Pasadena (and get to Pasadena from such far-flung locales as Irwindale and Downey).



I love that I could learn something new, despite having already experienced it twice. And yet I also love the familiarity of seeing some of the annual participants (like the Norco Cowgirls) which comes about as closest as anything feeling like a tradition since I first moved to LA seven years ago.



And as far as traditions go, I could do a lot worse than getting up at the crack of dawn to admire the artistry, musicality, and horticultural wonders of the Rose Parade, which is now in its 129th year.



What else can I do in LA, just as it was done back in the late 1880s?



Whatever it is, sign me up.



This year, as we have every year for the last century, we crowned our Rose Queen (our 100th!) and feted her royal court.



We cheered for the two college football teams who'd come to battle it out at the Rose Bowl, like the Sooners with their Oklahoma prairie pride...



...and this year's victors, the Bulldogs representing the University of Georgia...



...as they have since the team played its first season in 1892.



We celebrated our local landmarks far and wide, from Griffith Observatory and the Hollywood Sign to LAX and the Fabulous Forum.



Though, as the members of Earth, Wind, and Fire wouldn't safely clear the freeway overpass, they'd already moved their performance off the "roof" of the float by the time it got to the northeastern reaches of the parade route.



By the time each float arrived to our viewing spot, its drivers, handlers, and walkers had already been parading for over an hour and a half.



Arms were waving just a bit lower than at the beginning, a couple of miles ago.



Pushers were pushing just a little more slowly.



And I bet the bicyclists were wondering if they had to pretend to pedal anymore.



But everybody managed to keep their smiles intact, with genuine wishes for a happy new year.



Bands from as far as Africa played "California Dreamin'" like they meant it (and, in one case, a rousing rendition of "California Girls").



The marchers lifted their knees dutifully, and we cheered, "You're almost there! You got this!"



Doggos on parade continued to be very good boys and girls...



...and even seemed to be enjoying the ride.



We spectators managed to escape the wrath of the Diablico Sucio of Banda De Música Herberto López from Chitré, Panama...



...while the flags of the color guard swirled before our eyes.



Some of the giants were already sleeping, having gone down for a little nap...



...and towers had fallen...



...soon to awake and rise again for those spectators who wanted to see them up close later in the afternoon.

I turned out to be one of them, once again.

This year, the choice between going to the parade and going to the Post-Parade Viewing wasn't either/or. Going to one wasn't mutually exclusive of the other.

If I was already in Pasadena—out of bed, and out among the living—then I might as well do the whole thing.

Stay tuned for dispatches from the float showcase and some more detailed images of the flowers, fruits, and other natural materials that went into their creation.

Related Posts:
Photo Essay: The Rose Parade, Never on a Sunday Edition
Photo Essay: New Year's Day at the Rose Parade
Photo Essay: The Floats of the Rose Parade, 2015
Photo Essay: Rose Parade 2014 Floats, In Progress
Photo Essay: The Marching Bands of the Rose Parade, 2016
Photo Essay: The Horses of the Rose Parade
Photo Essay: The House of Chewing Gum and Roses
Photo Essay: Rose Bowl Stadium, Renovated Again, and Open for Tours!