LOS ANGELES — City staff came to a council committee on Wednesday owing the public a construction schedule for the skate park long promised beneath the 101 freeway. They left having asked for something else: a few more months to study the site.

The request landed hard in a hearing room that held perhaps two dozen residents, several of them the same parents and teenagers who packed a similar meeting in the spring. At that March hearing, staff had committed to returning by summer with a real timeline. On Wednesday they explained that a fresh look at the drainage, the freeway easement and the soil beneath the city-owned lot had raised questions that had to be answered before a shovel could be scheduled.

“I circled this date, the way I circled the last one,” said Dominic Farr of East Hollywood, who has spoken at three of these hearings and whose daughter, he noted, learned to skate in a friend’s driveway. “I keep being told the concrete is coming. What I keep getting is another calendar.”

Councilmember Alicia Rendón, whose district includes the lot, said she shared the frustration and had pushed staff to move, but that she would rather the city build the park once, correctly, than pour a slab it had to tear out. She asked the department to return in the fall with both the study and a not-to-exceed cost, and to bring the residents into the review rather than present it to them finished.

The lot has sat fenced for years, a flat rectangle of cracked asphalt in the freeway’s shadow that the city acquired with the stated intention of building exactly what it has not yet built. Advocates have raised money, drawn concepts and outlasted more than one set of officials. The delays have rarely been dramatic — no single cancellation, just a steady accumulation of reviews, each reasonable on its own.

A department official, pressed by committee members, acknowledged that the newest questions were not wholly new, and that some could have been examined sooner. He declined to promise the fall date would hold, saying only that staff intended to meet it.

That answer did not satisfy Priya Nandakumar, 17, who skates with friends in parking lots and outside a shuttered storefront and who took the afternoon off from a summer job to speak for ninety seconds.

“I’ll graduate before this opens,” she told the committee. “That’s fine. Build it for the kids behind me. But somebody in this room should have to explain to a ten-year-old why the fence is still up.”

The committee took no binding action, directing staff to report back in the fall. As the room emptied, a handful of the teenagers lingered by the door, comparing which lots the police had run them out of that month. Farr folded his notes into his shirt pocket and said he would see everyone again at the next one.