It was Labor Day weekend a week ago, and I figured spending an entire three day weekend in my apartment is kind of lame. Not knowing L.A. well enough yet to find much to do on the spur of the moment, I cracked open the atlas and started looking over the page with Southern California for anything that sounded interesting. My eyes centered on “Carrizo Plain National Monument”, a silver dollar sized green spot on the map about four inches from Los Angeles.
I didn’t bother googling the place before leaving; I decided I’d figure it out when I got there. I grabbed my pack, chucked my bike and a few water bottles in the Cherokee, and set out. After a couple hours up I-5 and then across a few state routes, I found myself out here: