looking out at 75 mph

As with all trips, time came to leave behind all the snow and go home.

Commence five hours of singing, rapping, ridiculous games, and taking photos of the road (for me, and ducking out of the way for the poor passengers in the truck - sorry, and thanks guys). 

I had no idea the route from Mammoth to SoCal would be so scenic! Windy roads through mountains and deserts... much better than the usually bleak miles and miles of absolutely nothing from LA to the Bay on the I-5. Eyes glued to the windows - occasionally rotating from left to right to front to back - I realized how much of California I have yet to see. Oh you state of many sights, you.  

war

Stills from a wintertime feud, a long, long time ago--

My sincere apologies for the utter lack of excellence in the images - twas my first time shooting war, and I was not armed with proper weaponry. Hopefully I'll have a telephoto handy to capture the action next time.

As a blizzard cut short Day Two of snowboarding, chaos ensued in the woods of Mammoth Lakes. I firsthand witnessed

attack,

ambush,

retreat,

grieving,

savagery,

and casualty.

Alliances disbanded left and right, and pandemonium quickly escalated into a hot cold mess. 

And in the midst of it all,

joy.

a trip too mammoth

I'm okay at some sports, and not bad at others. Snowboarding? None of the above.
The answer is H) a huge slice of humble pie. One I almost choked on.

Up until this point - December 17, 2014 to be exact - I used to think I was athletic. Nope. This fateful day changed everything. A month and a half later, I am still in awe of how much I suck at snowboarding.

Being a prideful piece of flesh, I hate quitting. Whatever the task may be, I push myself to the limits, sometimes letting the competitive Christine take over and secretly intending to "outdo" others. This day, however, my body (perhaps more so my mind and ego) was in so much pain that I gave up - I would not return the next day, even though everyone else would enjoy boarding part two.

What a physically taxing (and literally tear-jerking) way to learn. Musings on independence versus community to follow. But for now, I end by honoring my heroes.

I owe my survival on this day to coaches of the year and champions of patience

Connie and

Trevmo. 

Thank you for saving my butt, and for not giving up on me! You guys are life savers.

let's go to the beach

My heart yearned for cooler weather, rain, fog, and wind - some variety, like color-changing leaves and snow. Instead, LA wore heat. All day, every day.
Commence grumbling and internal dying.

How did I cope for the past four years? That's another story for another time. Today, we're going to appreciate the beauty of SoCal's lack of seasons, by highlighting its one and only upside, how it's always warm enough to beach it. These were shot in November, but really, you could step over to the ocean any time of the year.

the tale of dumb and dumber

a snapshot from a weekender to Death Valley National Park featuring

Dumb and Dumber

"I have sand in my mouth," Dumb said.

"It's all over your hair too," replied Dumber.

No, they weren't playing in a sandbox. They actually

rolled down a hill at Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes. Multiple times.

Ladies and gentlemen, the future of U.S. military, Andrew Hanuk Choi. Infantry officer by uniform, sand bender by hobby.

"That was so fun, I'm going to do it backwards this time."

dark skies

After four years in Light Pollution Central, I was dying to see stars.

October granted my wish in Banff, Canada. I stared in awe, mouth dropped wide open except for the release of elongated "ooh"s and "aah"s. This was only the appetizer. A triple whammy of clouds, scattered rain, and a full moon (as the second brightest source of light next to the sun, Mr. Moon is public enemy no. 1 in stargazing circles) prevented the naked eye from seeing much twinkle, twinkle littles.

Then came November, taking me to Joshua Tree, California.

No words.

To my great dismay, however, the method I used back in Canada didn't work out this time as the genius of a brain in my head forgot to set focus to infinity. Incredible sights, blurry photos. Tears.

December brought redemption on a silver platter semi-broken tripod. Despite the forecasted rain and clouds throughout the night, neither stinker showed up. God is the sweetest.

I've got a long ways to go, but here's to gazing at sparkling celestial beings more often, from various geographic coordinates.

Sorry Disneyland, but World of Color got nothing on this.

joshua tree

On an unusually cold, overcast SoCal morning in mid-December, seven Angelenos packed into a pickup truck and headed southeast.

Rewind - three in a coupe, and four in the pickup. In 30 minutes, they would make a pit stop in Diamond Bar and hop into a single vehicle, an SUV spacious enough for families and sturdy enough for off-roading (although they sadly did not venture off the pavement).  

Eventually, they wound up at Joshua Tree National Park.

After a day of exploring and sky-watching, they followed a rainbow home.