Christmas Eve began with a slight lingering headache… The previous evening involved copious amounts of beer, a couple botched games of pool and a few surprisingly incredible performances at the local music venue. The rain that night was far beyond the ordinary and put us all in the mood for “one more drink,” but I speak for myself. That next morning called for an immediate walk to the kitchen for breakfast and coffee. Reclaiming mental normalcy was of utmost importance, and we had a long beautiful day ahead of us to seize as we pleased.

On the agenda: a holiday hike. Just north of Highland Park, the rain that we felt was received as plentiful snow at higher elevation. So with that information and a want for nature, we began our drive north on the Angeles Crest Parkway. It’s peculiar to experience that dramatic of a temperature change, especially in the winter months. We left 60 degrees Fahrenheit in the hills and arrived at 38 degrees Fahrenheit just about five miles past Mt. Wilson. Because the snow was so ample and recent, there was a mandatory call for snow chains after a certain point on the drive. So we stopped at our last possible checkpoint and walked from there. The 2-3 mile hike we started was almost all virgin snow. Untouched paths for us to enjoy (and make yellow).

The blankets of powder transformed the brown and green mountain range into a white-peaked winter paradise, more than worthy of dozens of pictures. But it is a shame when none of them capture the essence of the hike. Only our memories and future return trips will truly emulate what we saw up there. Coming from just-under-room-temperature, we were both glad (Chloe and I) that we’d brought boots and plenty of layers. But she had the upper hand as she’d brought her gloves (no pun intended). The cold was starting to sink in (and no one wants to be sick on Christmas), so we turned back to the SUV, excited to cook a hot meal, drink wine and exchange presents that night. Then, as we approached our car, we ran into our roommate Steven and two other of our friends, Travis and Venisha. They’d just arrived, and by coincidence to the exact same spot, so we walked a bit with them as well. Glad to see friends and still amazed by our surroundings, we pushed for a little longer but ultimately decided to head home shortly after.

Driving down the mountain was nice, approaching Los Angeles from above in quite a magical way. Chloe wasn’t feeling well, for whatever reason, and stayed at the house while I went to visit our sweet Sawyer, the canine we were dog sitting for the long weekend. A big, big dog with a huge heart and affinity for making you dirty, Sawyer is a fun one. But a lot to handle… Enjoyed some time there before returning home for the main attraction of Christmas! Following showers, Chloe took control of a delicious stuffed mushroom dish for that night’s dinner while I made moves on a fire in our living room’s fireplace. A great way to ring in the holiday, we both drank red wine, the house was toasty, festive and generally lovely. For our first time using the fireplace as it was designed to be used, the fire was glorious. And directly after our delectable dinner, we gifted each other our Christmas presents. Much love was felt, and our toes were warmed by the hearth as we finished our wine and well asleep to a long movie.

The next day was, in fact, Christmas Day. And it came with plenty of sunshine. We were planning to head south for Aliso Viejo, to spend time with my Aunt Christine, Uncle Paul and my visiting cousin Spencer. Rather quickly, we made breakfast and coffee, took care of dog duties and began packing the desserts and alcohol in the car to bring with us to our day in Orange County. One hour later, we pulled up to my uncle’s place, ready for a fun day. First action for the day - walk on the beach.

I feel spoiled and humbled to be living in a place where, on Christmas, I can hike through snow in a mountain range one day and walk with my toes in the sand the next. The contrast of these experiences was incredible, but the ability to make each happen was a blessing. After retuning from Laguna Beach to Aliso Viejo, there was a new tradition I’d yet to become familiar with. The Christmas Pickle. Many of you may know what I’m talking about, but for those that don’t: a pickle (or an ornament or symbol of a pickle) is hidden either inside of a Christmas tree or elsewhere, left for someone to find. He or she who successfully discovers the Christmas pickle wins a special gift or prize, and this year my Aunt Christine hid the Christmas pickle (ornament) very deliberately in a bush outside in the apartment complex. The entire group of us (five, not including Christine) was wandering around the courtyard, which probably looked crazy to other residents, searching dearly for a shiny pickle. I felt both ridiculous and just like a kid again. But when my uncle found the pickle, I can honestly say I was bummed. He won the movie tickets along with all the glory and bragging rights of being 2016’s pickle holder. How I hope we can have a rematch in 2017….

Pickle finding done, we all had a drink while dinner was being prepared. The final touches on lasagna, Italian bread and salad were being made, and I'll say that I ate one of the best lasagnas I’ve ever had. The warm lasagna noodles, meat and cheeses mixed as they should and the flavors came through like one can only hope. Exquisite. I’m not religious, but I know when and how to practice gratitude. And for that day, for that family and for my support in life I’m grateful.

We had to leave a little earlier than desired, to go see our lovable monster, Sawyer. Home to Highland Park we went and proceeded to have several drinks with a crazy holiday puppy back in our own neighborhood. I can only hope that the New Year continues these great vibes and amazing experiences that I’ve had with Chloe and all of my friends and family in 2016.

¡Salud!

 - 7Ply Epic

Each of my last two Sundays, I’ve made it a mission to make it a mission. Skate the streets. I realize that the longer my body lives through life, the less weekends I have left to do so. Days are limited in any sense, and my time surely won’t start expanding now. While I’m “young,” I’d like to keep progressing and pushing my personal limits, in more ways than one but skateboarding included.

So this past Sunday, location nonspecific, I was hopping over a fence to find what that particular schoolyard had to offer. It’s not so easy, climbing fences, as it used to be, but it’s still very doable. As I set foot on the other side, I thought to myself how I used to fantasize about hopping that fence (hypothetically) in the other direction when I was stuck behind those classroom windows a decade ago. The irony hit me like a great joke’s punchline that I wasn’t a student any longer. But I was trespassing to get back on school grounds. On a Sunday. It wasn’t even the same school I’d once attended each day - it was a monolith of an institution; the public schools in Los Angeles are even more prison-like than the ones in Wilmington, NC.

It’s a sort of complicated irony that’s hard to nail down in one sentence though. Here I am, in LA because I’d pursued this path of encouraging education for skateboarders across the country (plug Collegiate Skate Tour). It was a very complex set of circumstances that got me to thinking, "maybe I’m actually a bit loony." All else aside, my counterparts and I choose to jump those fences and explore those patches of terrain because of skateboarding. It is to redefine that space that we even show up. It’s not to punch in. It’s to give it another go, this time with an entirely new angle. I was never a student of architecture, but I can intricately describe to you off the top of my head the structure of any school in my zip code (and many others in nearby areas). A lot of my writing repeats themes of perspectives forever changing, and this is a prime example of such.

The way in which I decide to see those places is the only reason I pursue it. And the only reason I ever pursue it is to find new ways to see them. It’s comical to realize but fascinating to think about. A childhood pastime turned into a simple obsession which intricately built a way of life, even into my mid-twenties. Although it may be captured with a SnapChat filter from time to time, it’s a very real view. Whether or not I were ever a student of a school in that context, it’s most important to be a student of life, constantly looking for new ways to observe your surroundings and act upon them.

Going skating, “trespassing,” embracing the adventure and meeting all sorts of characters along the way.

 - 7Ply Epic

Yesterday, I paid a much needed and long overdue visit to the pseudo-famous Sheldon Skate Plaza. Sheldon is one of the most revered skate plazas in Los Angeles with a long story behind it. It means a lot to many skaters in LA County yet represents something especially negative to the local community and law enforcement for reasons completely separate. Sheldon, over time, became a go-to meet-up spot for skaters young and old, beginner and professional alike. It represented a "home away from home” of sorts and offered a space for skaters to connect in a meaningful way while immersed in their passion. But to many others (non-skateboarders) in the area, Sheldon represented a dark space in the community.

When the sun went down and the lights went out, there were several instances of violence, drug use, and rape. These, quite obviously, aren’t acceptable actions nor ones to be encouraged. The local community had the right to their own concern. But simultaneously, the local skateboarding community was experiencing some of the most positive influence from having that park there during daylight hours. What to some is pure recreation and family-building is to others opportunity for breaking the law, abusing each other and disrespecting public assets - a prime example of an unintentional dual purpose space. There’s no way of knowing precisely, but I suspect that none of the daytime skaters were nighttime gangbangers or drug dealers. Sheldon was a special case.

After some time of public dissatisfaction, Sheldon Skate Plaza was filled and/or covered with sand. This was a devastating blow to the skateboarding community, mainly due to the lack of resources for clearing out that huge amount of matter from the premises. The public had spoken through some means, leaving the skateboarding community with one less safe space for their assembly and progression. It was a sad day, but skateboarding went on.

After thinking about it further, the independent case at Sheldon is applicable to many other places. Several areas of Los Angeles are subject to abuse by its own residents. Citizens damage property and each other all over the city. Those same areas of the city also function as some positive vehicle or safe haven to so many others yet continue to be looked down upon as “good-for-nothing” or "damaging to the people.” It’s a shame when the Boy’s and Girl’s Club (completely fictional example) of Compton’s property is used for drug deals and graffiti tags at night. It is at no fault to the organizers of the programs for good but only to those that choose to use the space in a negative way. The list goes on and on when observing physical spaces that are used for bad or ill-intentioned means. And many of those places are being utilized for good otherwise.

A bad soul can easily turn any place “bad,” and a few good souls can turn a single location into a great one.

As of yesterday, Sheldon has been dug out from the sand that once covered it. The skaters of Sun Valley, CA and beyond came out to resurrect the plaza for skateboarders’ use. To those that are familiar with the park, it serves as a monument of sorts to the effort and determination of local skateboarders. And, on top of that, the park is well-designed and cleanly built, easy to love from a skater’s point of view. Sheldon is back (for as long as possible), and skateboarders have their space back. But how many communities will be punished for the wrongdoings of their destructive neighbors and violent visitors? When will the city (Los Angeles in this case) realize that you can’t fix an isolated issue with a blanketing solution? When will leaders stop and realize that one size does not fit all? That there are positive spaces with negative side effects and that restricting positive usage [usually] does NOT rescind those side effects…

At the end of the day, I was stoked to have skated Sheldon Skate Plaza, with some visiting pro skaters no less. But the fact remains that its true positive potential had not been realized by whomever dumped sand in the skatepark. This is a learning experience, but only with the correct conversation.

This is a reminder to not only take action in your local communities, but also to see everything in your world in its most positive light.

Keep rolling, no trolling.

 - 7Ply Epic

Typing from full altitude, somewhere above Oklahoma, I reflect on a full week in North Carolina. With Chloe at my side and WiFi inaccessible, I can finally unwind my thoughts in a quiet [white noise] setting. This was only my second return to North Carolina, post-California arrival, and my time there was much too short. Eleven months after my most recent visit and my first accompanied by a significant other; it was a true challenge to meet with all the people I wanted to, family & friends, in both Raleigh and Wilmington. But the most important thing was clear, and I made sure to make the most time for family. Still, I wish I’d had more moments to share: a common life theme.

Fun times were aplenty, between skateboarding, drinking beer, reminiscing, being lazy, eating well and visiting local staple establishments from my upbringing. I’m so grateful to have friends that will show up en masse, the support of Chloe’s family and the unwavering love of my Mom and sister in NC. A new DIY spot in Wilmington, recently opened restaurant hot spots in downtown Raleigh and strange development everywhere were altogether a testament to inevitable change. The essential change that happens to any place worth inhabiting.

I love North Carolina, in a way I can’t see myself ever loving another region. I won’t say that I’ll never admire another place more. But I’m stating that the type of affection I have for North Carolina will probably never be matched or duplicated. The seasons change, the winter nights call for backyard fires, the rains bring with them humid rebounds so hard to describe and the people… Let’s just say the hospitality isn’t on that level in any city I’ve seen on the west coast.

Most of those in my new home assume that because I left the state, there was something left to be desired there… But that wasn’t the case at all. It still isn’t. My ambition and thirst for change are 90% of the reason for the relocation, and each time North Carolina comes up in conversation with native Angelenos, my eyes light up like the Christmas tree I’m about to retrieve. In a season between true fall and winter, we missed the changing colors of the forests but effectively got to feel the most tolerable of chilly winter nights. And with the holiday season newly in most everyone’s spirit, the people of Raleigh and Wilmington were in a celebratory mood and sharing state of mind.

I’m stoked for everyone I know and where they are in their lives; Wilmington locals, natives and expats alike. At the end of a good week in my home state, it’s difficult to see the change happen but equally as exciting. Progress entails breaking down systems & structures of the past and rebuilding in better ways. I think the most challenging part is seeing a place that raised you, growing further up without you.

An excuse will be made to return much sooner than later. Won’t be long til next time…

 - 7Ply Epic