For those of us living within the smoggy confines of Los Angeles or Orange County, the need to break away for a weekend of fresh air is a common occurrence.
Hey, sometimes you just need to see a tree that’s not a palm tree.
Searching for somewhere that’s a short drive away from LA, but feels world’s apart from Hollywood, the 405 and South Coast Plaza? Try Ojai.
What’s your camping style?
Do you feel happiest surrounded by rustic plaids, enamelware and a cozy fire with a gourmet marshmallow roasting spread? Or colorful bohemian tapestries, twinkly lights and delicious cocktails? Whatever your personal preference, camping in style only takes a little extra preparation and creative flare.
I knew it was going to be an adventure the moment we left the all-night party. Our three backpacks were stuffed into the back of my Ford Escape, with blankets and pillows and other cozy necessities crammed into every possible space.
It seemed crazy to set off on a trip like this with practically zero sleep, and perhaps it was. But the southwest was singing and we heard its’ siren call.
Driving into the rising sun, the desert was beautiful in a palette nothing like the coastal hues we had left behind in California. Sienna, sage, ochre and rust dotted the sandscape in pastel swathes and splotches of color…
The compass points north.
Lured by memories of craggy coastline, the contrast of waves heaving out of a dark sea, a serpentine road scraping the cliffs, I set out in search of the smoky thrill of solo wandering and the intoxicating scent of the wild unknown.
I set out for adventure.
It was 3 AM at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, and I was crawling over a rickety footbridge on my hands and knees, wearing a 30 pound backpack. The river below looked dark and uninviting, and Kate was barely visible ahead in the darkness, her headlamp a dim beacon. I could feel the thin boards flexing as I made my slow progress towards the safety of the riverbank on the other side…