The doors are locked.

I'm sleeping on the porch. Reason #1 why it pays to carry a blanket on my bike. Mexicans make warm blankets. G'night.

A road for some blues.

There's nothing like a long hard ride, to clear your mind of a long hard time.

Early Bird.

     This morning is my second to last day in LA for a while.  I had spent Monday and Tuesday in San Diego, then took the long road, nice and slow, making it up to Los Angeles by 6pm to do some skating with friends.  Early this morning when I woke up with the sun shining and the wind on my arms, I decided to hit all those Los Angeles hilltops that had been intriguing me for as long as I'd looked out on them.  They were the eastern hills and I'd never been into those neighborhoods before.  So without the modern technology of a map that I usually reference to get where I want to go, I just went.  I went towards my goals and explored those neighborhoods and hills.  Winding around the narrow streets admiring the cozy houses, scanning for any hilltop opportunity, I could see just how much culture there was.  It's predominantly hispanic.  Chickens and chihuahuas litter the landscape.  I took any and every neat old dirt roads winding canyon sides.  I once asked a large gal walking her small chihuahua if the dirt road split I was on was the one that reached the crest, she said in a friendly manner "Yes, we call that 'Flat Top' and you don't want to go up there at night." The look on her face indicated it gets pretty sketchy up there.  I gave her a "thanks" and I was back dodging large rocks and potholes, on this sunbaked dirt road.  I rounded a sharp bend and ascended along the ridge I was hoping for, the Los Angeles panoramic view off to my left.  To my right was the large modern house on the hill, boarded windows behind industrial chain-link fence.  Looks like an abandoned build.  You can't tell what kinda shape it's in from where I always saw it from.  But now it all makes sense.  I wondered if anyone I knew had ever been up there, or even cared to explore those hoods, but it was magical.
   
     I was getting hungry so I headed to the other end of "Flat Top" and into an adjoining neighborhood.  It brought me out at Lincoln Park where I found a small corner Mexican sidewalk eatery.  I ordered a machaca, egg, potato and cheese breakfast burrito for $2.50.  I thought I'd crossed the boarder.  It was the best thing ever.  I sat out front at a circular table with a blue umbrella.  A neighborhood dog laid protectively next to my moto.  This morning was perfect.

For Oscar.

I always say "a great trip is only complete if you've weathered a storm." Well, todays rain ride home from SD to LA proved once more to be evident of that. And often times, the greatest trips involve a few types of storms; emotional, physical, and spiritual. I'd say I had a nice combination of each this weekend. Now, hear ye this, "though it may rain and it may pour, it's sure to eventually shine. So grab those handlebars and hang on, cause there's a road up ahead that needs travelin." This one goes out to the greatest Oscar Hogwild Roberts, whose spirit rides on. ♥