Is the 'Early Bird' Deal at Rose Bowl Flea Actually Worth Sacrificing Sleep?

General view of The Rose Bowl, where the iconic flea market takes place. (Photo by Ricardo DeAratanha/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images)

It’s four in the morning. I’ve just rolled out of bed and somehow onto the 110 freeway. Most people up at this hour are coked up and out from a routine night out on Hollywood Blvd or unfortunate enough to catch the graveyard shift at their “nine to five.” Me? I’m in pursuit of the trinkets, odds, and ends that I’ve repeatedly heard about for Rose Bowl Flea’s "early bird" access.

I’m a firm believer that everyone should get their eight hours, but driving on the road when even the doves are still nestled in is an experience — it’s the only time you can hit eighty on the freeway without ending up a skid mark on the road or with your coffee in your lap. And, apparently, it’s also the only time I can pick up a Led Zeppelin album for anything less than $35. But little did I know, I was still hours away from even a sniff of wax.

It was pitch black when I pulled into the Rose Bowl parking lot; there was some confusing talk between traffic workers on whether Lot H should be open or not. I ended up parking with the vendors — many of whom were still lined up in the hundreds to get in — just on the edge of the stadium. I walked into the antique lot around 5:15 a.m. to a small group of wandering flashlights and 44-degree weather.

To my surprise, nothing was out until around 5:30 and that was largely clothes and furniture. I didn’t find my first box of records until six and was lucky enough to pull out an old pressing of Patti Smith’s Radio Ethiopia for 10 bucks — a deal, but not a steal.

“I don't go until six o'clock… because I just found that, especially in the winter when there's no sunlight. It's kind of a drag,” says Jim Heimann, a Professor at Art Center in Pasadena and Taschen author who has been frequenting the flea since the ‘70s and an early bird since the tickets started being sold around '75. 

“I haven't evolved into the guy who has a flashlight on his head,” he jokes.

Crowds line up at the main entrance to the Rose Bowl to enter the Olde Tyme Flea Market at 6 a.m. on Sunday, March 9, 1997. (Photo by Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images)

He primarily hunts books and other paper artifacts for both personal collection and use at work. And even though I was looking for records, I probably could have used a drop of Heimann’s thorough experience while relic rummaging at the Bowl.

I didn’t find records again until 6:30 when I grabbed a copy of John Prine’s Storm Windows for $4. My search continued until I bowed out at 9, having scoured the entire antique lot several times and walked away with an early reissue of Blues From The Gutter by Champion Jack Dupree and a ’77 reissue of Miles Davis’ In A Silent Way that I scored for $10; the Price of Darkness saved the day.

Though I was generally satisfied with my gatherings, it certainly wasn’t what other enthusiasts made it out to be. I expected chaos, quick dashes to boxes of records, and sore index fingers from flipping through them, but was met with a runny nose and a tickled throat. Perhaps the deals just weren’t out that day, Feb. 11, but Heimann suggests it may be part of a bigger phenomenon.

“Rose Bowl used to be known for attracting people from out of the Southern California area and that's really subsided a lot,” he says. “What has taken over is the vintage clothing… the clothing is starting to take over the antique dealers.”

“That, in some ways is going to kill it for a lot of people… In fact, I was going religiously for 30 years, every Sunday, and the last six months or so I’ve started to not go because I’m not finding stuff,” he adds.

Overview of the monthly flea market held at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena. (Photo by Paul Mounce/Corbis via Getty Images)

Despite all, he still believes the early bird is worth it, even if it’s not as valuable as in previous years. With Rose Bowl, it comes down to what you’re looking for — gone are the days when every facet and pastime was being hauled out of U-Haul trucks at 5 a.m. sharp.

If you’re in the business of clothes or furniture, show up at 5:30 a.m. I saw plenty of people shuffling through garment racks with flashlights and throwing out offers on old bowls and bookshelves.

Anything else? Catch up on your Z’s and know you’ll be $20 richer when you wake up. If you really want to push it, show up at 7 a.m. and try your luck, but don’t expect much.