Two hours uphill. Curves and turns and twists. Sun and cool mountain air. Ducatis and Kawasakis racing each other joyfully. All at a 15-minute drive from home. Let’s just say you’re not in Holland anymore, when you can climb 4000 feet undisturbed by lights, signs, or many people for that matter.
It’s probably clear that I love running, but cycling is allowing me to really explore parts of California that I might not have found otherwise. Take the Angeles Crest Highway, connecting La Canada Flintridge to Highway 138 near Phelan. It crosses Angeles National Forest, an amazing and mountainous part of southern California. There are few cars, just speeding motorcycles (filling me with speed-envy).
This ride made me grateful. I feel lucky to live in this country, and in this state. Can I say this unironically? I’ll try: thank you, America.