Where do I begin?
For three and a half weeks I've been asking me that question, over and over again. How do I describe nine incredibly great days? I will let the pictures help me...
Thursday. I land at LAX: Standing in lines, filling out forms, more lines and more forms. I pick up the rental, they hand me a Chevy HHR, not exactly the smallest car like the one I reserved but I don't mind. I hit the freeway, enjoying the ride. At one point the whole city opens up, and I can see straight to downtown. It's so beautiful I can die. For everyone else around me, it's just another day in commuter bedlam.
The gps takes me right to my destination, Karin and John's place in Silver Lake. Some thai take-out, some TV, and I pass out on the sofa.
Friday. I go down to Samy's on Fairfax, got impressed. Next stop Venice, where I meet my good friend René, director/photographer extraordinaire. We haven't met for too many years. He hands me a Bolex camera and a couple of rolls of 16 mm film stock to use at El Mirage, which intimidates me and thrills me simultaneously.
I try tamales for the first time.
The first album here.
Saturday. For the first time in my life I feel blessed for waking up early, as I get to see the first rays of sun tickle the hillsides of Silver Lake. Thank you, jet lag. I go out for a short stroll. On a whim I decide to go down to the Donut Derelicts car thing down in Huntington Beach. When I arrive I realize I'm way too late, almost all cars are gone. One of the few still there is Gray Baskerville's red roadster, so I got to talk to its new owner, Jim Shelton. One thing leads to another, and suddenly I am at Jack Underwood's garage nearby, having coffee and donuts with the rest of the bunch that gather there on saturday mornings. Spends an hour around all his land speed racing memorabilia. Jack gives me a t-shirt.
In an old Wheels magazine, Bo Bertilsson shot his model T roadster outside the Stuft Surfer diner in Newport Beach. That was reason enough for me to go there for lunch. I know it sounds stupid, but that's just typical me.
Goes out to San Gabriel to meet Tom, Diana and Thomas, leaving for El Mirage. Gets there well past sunset. Surreal, this is how it must feel like driving on the moon. Camps together with the Bean Bandits, has some beer and carne asada tacos, falls asleep under the stars.
Saturday photo album here.
Sunday. The first engine comes to life as the sun is no more than an orange glow above the mountains. So this is what the lakebed looks like. It's freezing cold but not for much longer.
El Mirage. It's all I had expected, and more. After striking out, not only once but twice, I finally got the chance to experience land speed racing. From what I'm told, there's a bit fewer racecars than usual, maybe because it's the first meet after Bonneville. I don't mind, though. Julio's modified roadster did over 149 on its only attempt, as the meet was called off in the afternoon due to strong winds.
The trip home was an experience in itself.
Sunday photos here.
Monday. Road trip day. I meet up with Tom and Diana for breakfast at El Monte airport, delicious. After that we go out to Fullerton to meet Rudy Rodriguez. I get to see the truck that's there to get its old look back, Mia's roadster (that's just as perfect as a 29-on-32 roadster can get), and Paul Hoffmann's stunning Merc and new '36. I do some polaroids.
Next stop Yucaipa where we hang out at Fabian's place. Some excellent mexican food for lunch at a nearby restaurant, and an opportunity to check out all the cool stuff in his yard.
On the way home we visit Robert Lomas in Arcadia, what an incredible place. The little camera chooses to call it a day as I am about to take the first picture, so I have to rely on my memory. No problem.
While going down Las Tunas Drive, Tom slows down to point out where Pete & Jake's had their shop. A hot rod landmark, to me just as important as El Mirage, even if on a different scale.
Monday pictures here.
Tuesday. Santa Monica. Matt and Dean gives me the tour at the Dice headquarters. The new issue is out, with my first pictures of the Jokers' bikes. Lunch again, this time at Swingers'.
I check out the beach. For, like, fifteen minutes. In the evening Karin, John and I go to this great restaurant, but I just can't remember what I did during the hours between the beach and the restaurant. Strange. Anyway, the food at Canepé was remarkably good. Go there if you can.
Tuesday photos here.
Wednesday. First out to La Crescenta and H&H Flatheads to pick up a set of regular flathead Edelbrock heads. I leave with a pair of pricey Navarros, I must be stupid.
Next stop Riverside and Alex Idzardi, I was cordially greeted with a swedish obscenity.
What can I say, I want a yard like that too. And the house. And the climate. That place is chock full of cars, bikes, neat speed parts and hot rod memorabilia, more than most rodders will ever handle in a lifetime. Amazing. So, while Alex and Marky finish painting the '39 I drive around the block to Kevan's place, and his garage is just as spectacular. I do some more polaroids.
Thanks for letting me come by.
In the evening we go to the Japanese Village Plaza for some sushi, I end up with a seafood salad.
Wednesday in pictures here.
*****
The radio channel of choice was Indie 103.1. I usually tune in through the internet when I work, but then I just get to hear the night and morning shows. What surprised me was the number of swedish artists that got plenty of air time: Hellacopters, Teddybears, Peter Bjorn and John, The Sounds, The Caesars, Mary Onettes, Shout Out Louds..., that station was like a home away from home.
*****
Thursday. Samy's again. The valet parking makes me feel like a hot-shot. I shop a new light meter. Next stop Burbank. First lunch at
El Carpintero, and then I get to meet
Keith and Penny. We get to talk a bit, trade some art, do some more photos. Keith takes me for a ride in the shoebox. Penny shows some of her rolodex art, inspiring.
While shooting the car, Keith picks up something from the ground. "-This is what we have flying around in the air in Burbank." A fake leaf.
In the evening Karin takes me for a spin around downtown: A drink at The Standard, a late dinner at the Brite Spot, dessert, kind of, at Tiki Ti.
Going home on Sunset I see that someone spray-bombed the Elliott Smith wall. That made me a little sad.
Thursday photos here.
Friday. Going home tomorrow, and I'm way behind schedule. It hurts, but I have to cancel quite a few things I'd love to do before I leave. I go up at six a.m. to take care of some shopping and shipping. As I never was completely comfortable with how the front 6.40 tires looked on the sedan, I drove down to Long Beach and Performance Plus to pick up a set of 6.70's with a wider white wall. Next, I went to Costa Mesa to pick up a Durant mono leaf spring straight from the source. Last stop was California Shipping in Stanton to drop my loot for transportation home. I made some photographs along Beach Boulevard, what a funky place.
I pick up the final contacts and rolls at the film lab, and go out to San Gabriel to meet Tom and Diana again. We look at photos, and later goes out for dinner at a mexican place. A light sprinkle hits the windshield, they say it's the first rain since march. Another great night, and then back to the house to pack the bags. It takes hours, I must be stalling.
Saturday. I make it easy for myself, and go down to familiar Santa Monica for the gift shopping. All other obligations left behind, just a comfortable midday on third street promenade, dodging the occasional heavy showers. Back to the house, Karin and I go out for a final meal before it's time to go to LAX. So, this is it for this time. They say time flies when you have fun. What a fucking cliché, but is there another way to explain how nine incredible days could end so fast?
Tom asked me where I think I'd go next time, now when I've finally made it to the dry lakes. I suggest Nor Cal perhaps, or Bonneville maybe. Days later, back home when things starts to sink in, that question comes back to me. Sure, there's many places that will rival So. Cal, but I just don't think I am completely done with Los Angeles yet. Can anyone ever be?
