I’ve been trying to experiment with getting more in the foreground—didn’t really work here, but whatever. The mountains outside Los Angeles are starting to take a strange turn, as they often do in late Summer. Equally green and burnt to a crisp, browned and yellowed, with a hint of deep red. It’s a color scheme I adore, even if it comes at the cost of the sun baking your damn skin.
Over this past weekend, I was riding in the Verdugos. The weather was supposed to hit the upper 90s, but the temperatures were holding to a reasonable lower 80s in the morning due to some cloud cover. So, I decided to stretch out and ride through the entire range, which
California is one of the rare places that can close a road, where no road is.
May and June always drive people in LA a little crazy. Nearly every morning the clouds move in, socking in the entire east side until mid-afternoon. It keeps the temps down, but releases a general weirdness into the air. But the biggest benefit, always, is that you can almost always
I have lived in Los Angeles for over 10 years, but have somehow never spent much time in Santa Barbara. With a work trip in Santa Cruz and a brand new bike that was hand-built in Santa Barbara, it seemed like the perfect time to make the stop. Instead of
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