South of LA

A thick marine fog cloaked the palm trees and bluffs, limiting visibility to a few hundred feet.  Nearby traffic hummed on the PCH.  Every few minutes, a hollow sound announced the passing of a liberally muffled motorcycle.  Sitting in the driver's seat of the Syncro with the door open, I watched waves roll in from the grey horizon.   Dozens of  black dots bobbed up and down as the swells past.  Blindly reaching for a bag of pistachios, I tracked a wave pass through an especially dense group of black dots.  A handful started moving towards the shore in anticipation of the wave peeking. Two white streaks went in separate directions.

"Damn, that looks fun. I'm suiting up," I said looking back towards my cousin, Nikko, stretching out in the back seat. "You cool to hang out for a bit?"

"Absolutely," he said, keeping his eyes pealed to, "Travel's With Charlie."

For the sixth time since leaving LA two days earlier,  I grabbed my 3'2 suit and 7'6 Walden Minimagic from the roofrack and raced down the stairs towards the beach.

On Friday morning,  Nikko and I followed the ocean down towards San Diego in the final leg of my exploration of the California Coast.   Despite the areas reputation for constant sun, a San Francisco like fog covered the coast, making the densely developed area feel remote and repetitively uninhabited.  Exploring the numerous parks and surf breaks that separate Mediterranean "mansions,"  supplemented the sections of coast where 1 combines with I5 with residential roads.  Parking the Syncro on sections of road unrestricted by parking laws by night, we joined the thousands of other gypsies taking advantage of the warm climate and reliable waves.


Lined up.

Drying a constantly wet towel.

Three feet at 13 seconds.

Limited visibility.


Black Dots.

Paddling out through the white water, I paused for a second to look back towards the bluffs. Teeth like rows of parked cars some hundred feet above contrasted the gray background, bringing back memories of a foggy Manhattan skyline.

A surfers "Hoot!" brought me back from my day dream, and I paddled with purpose, narrowing avoiding the waves peak.

Here are some more links,

SoCal (Picasa),

Out of Reception.