Bondi Beach Skate Park

Mr. Lovelace and I pretty much stumbled upon this place during our brief stay at Bondi. Having been living the van life for sometime now, I was sans shoes or board. The place was deserted, and while it WAS a weekday morning I would have expected more than one lone pool rider. Efforts to acquire a board and shoes proved fruitless, so I will have to return someday and seek my skate redemption.

The Ditch

About 20 minutes out of Joshua Tree National Park is a strip of road running back to civilization. It's a barren landscape interrupted by bare bones dwellings and the occasional strip mall. There are a lot of closed up shops, abandoned buildings and half finished projects. Behind one of these, an empty car dealership, lies the Ditch. To say it is underutilized would be, well, an understatement. No new cars sit on the lot, no overweight greasy salesman prowl the lots for fresh customers. The circut breakers have been broken open and robbed of their copper. Pigeons make their home in the tangled wires. Lacking a broom we opted to skate the ditch "natural" and risked losing some skin. There was an empty tent set up in the field behind us, more than a little ominous. What kind of gnarled creature could inhabit such a desolate place. Perhaps they had come seeking the ditch and were hypnotized by it's epic ditchness. One scrawny Joshua Tree stood guard over the whole scene, a lone sentry, a sign of life in a dead landscape. Garratt felt the juice right away and found this nice lip to grind on. It's a perfect detour on the road to the high desert, and we'll be back soon, packing brooms of course.

Joshua Tree Part 1

After suffering some of LA's famous road rage (pulling out of my driveway) I made my way to the hills of La Crescenta, where I was to rendezvous with G Funk. Gear was unloaded, sorted and reloaded and both our pockets weighed heavy with the generous amount of 120 film Madre had gifted us. In order to fully prepare for the sheer epic magnitude of Joshua tree, and because it was 9 am on a weekday, we stopped off in beautiful Monrovia. The skatepark was devoid of inhabitants and held a killer bowl and street course, all at a fun, not-gonna-snap-a-femur, size.

There were tail grabs....

There were tail grinds....

There were also stair gaps....

Muscles warmed up, juice flowing, we continued on our way out to the desert and adventures unknown.