Sometimes, you get a glimpse of one of the doorways between worlds. Where the light hits just right, and you can see—for just a moment—an entrance. On the other side is, well, that’s still unclear for most people. But for you, in that brief time, it’s all so very obvious.
But then the moment passes and the sounds rush back in, like a volume knob being turned slowly. You move on, forgetting the moment altogether, chalking that feeling up to the strange light of the hour.
I ride up Mt Lukens often enough that I have a pretty good understanding of what it’s like during various seasons. In summer, it’s often crispy and sharp with fading colors. Early winter is often clear skied and stark before the rains start. But as we near fall,
I recently went on a very stupid little mini mission: I tried to hide as many user reviews that I could. I have grown sick of seeing a random person’s review of books, movies, video games, and whatever else. Some of this is nostalgia—I miss the days of
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
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