Horace Greeley once remarked, ‘go west, young man’ and in many ways I’ve tried to live my life accordingly. It has always struck me that those four words comprise and encapsulate a rather remarkably dead-on description for the sense of optimism that exists out west and more specifically within the city of Los Angeles itself. In my mind no location in the country offers such a resounding sense of possibility - especially when it comes to sportbike riding. However after living for nearly ten years in the Los Angeles basin I’ve also come to the conclusion that its time for a change.

Over the past several years I’ve increasingly come to feel a certain sense of banality with various parts of this city and more importantly have witnessed a tremendous amount of urban growth that has in no uncertain terms fundamentally altered what it feels like to live and work here. The city has evolved past the point of reality in many respects – and I don’t mean the faux Hollywood reality that people who don’t live in or around LA always seem to associate with the city, but rather the sense of what once was normal no longer being nearly as matter of fact. I’ve personally come to realize that to live in LA is vastly different then to live in LA correctly.

These days the city takes a considerable toll on an individual and I’ve come to understand that I no longer want to carry that burden. While it’s certainly true that Los Angelenos don’t do battle with the elements on a regular basis, we do however constantly wage war with each other. Every facet of life from finding a parking spot to mere cost of living concerns are impacted by the millions of local inhabits. After awhile the sensation of continual feeling like you’re in combat with your neighbors simply wears you down.

When I first moved to LA this constant form of competition was exhilarating in comparison to the sleepy suburbs that I spent my youth in, but over the past several years as I’ve traversed the country for work I’ve continually found myself wondering what it would be like to lead a slower pace of life. What would it feel like not to have to do battle with the masses and instead be able to focus the time and energy that gets spent dealing with these crowds on the more passionate aspects of my life?

At first when I considered this question I dismissed it as being somewhat naive, but after awhile as I chewed on the idea I felt compelled to honestly consider it. Finally over the past several months an unabashed willingness to explore emerged. Tonight as I look back on those past months it seems rather self evident that I would eventually end up here, but at the time it never occurred to me that the act of exploration would eventually result in a commitment to seeing what life might offer away from the heart and soul of the west coast.

Obviously It’s not a decision that I’ve come to lightly by any means. Quite the contrary actually, I’ve spent a great deal of time analyzing what the city can realistically offer someone my age and what it is that I think I want to experience from this point forward. The conclusion I’ve come to is that at this stage of my life a greater number of needs can be fulfilled outside of the chaotic chatter that this city continually expounds. In some ways this isn’t all that shocking, rather I think it’s a very age appropriate behavior for someone in my shoes. Very few folks I’ve ever met have spent every night of their lives at the trendiest or hippest bar scene. The vast majority take a small taste of that lifestyle and then move on. In some respects I’ve probably held on to the city life longer then I should have but for years I felt compelled to stick it out for various work and personal related reasons. Tonight I no longer feel that need, nor do I have the desire to continue to stick it out even if I did have to be here. Instead I find myself ready to reshape and rework the things that I know and as well as the things that I don’t.

So tomorrow I’m going to enter the unknown. For the first time in approximately 3,500 days I’m going to leave LA… Sort of… Tomorrow I’m upping my roots and moving to Lake Elsinore, California. Nestled in foothills of Riverside County, the town is a sleepy suburbia compared to LA. It offers a unique triangular location, standing roughly eighty miles outside of downtown LA, sixty miles from San Diego and just about forty-five minutes from the Irvine corridor. If you had asked me years ago if I would have ever imagined myself living in such a location I probably would have thought you were nuts, but not tonight. Not at this point in my life when I find myself placing a premium on good roads, warm temperatures and less people to deal with.

Of course any decision to uproot yourself tends to create a mixed bag of emotions. While I’m very much looking forward to exploring new roads and new destinations, I also feel a sense of sadness as I say a practical goodbye to the roads that reside here in LA and the very canyons that created them. For me these roads represent something that goes beyond a mere location. They are the roads that I learned to ride on and the area in which I found the missing part of my soul. They are a landscape, which readily allows you to explore what lies not only in front of your physical existence but also what resides deep inside of you as well. After years of sharing an intimate relationship with each curve and each corner, I can’t help but think that this is truly God’s country. For a sportbike rider can there be a better system of interlocking manmade public racetracks?

From Santa Monica to Santa Barbara there are so many glorious avenues to delve into its astounding. Each series of roads contains not only a unique set of angles and entrances but also a surprisingly diverse set of vistas to view. From road to road the scenery wrapped around the asphalt never feels exactly the same and yet in their totality all of these roads offer a remarkable presentation of various time frames in California’s history. It’s only when you step back that you can fully appreciate just how extraordinary this kind of diversity is and how special it seems. So while I’ve grown tired of the metropolis, it’s hard to ignore how much I love the fantastic roads that surround it.

While I will certainly continue to ride these roads over the course of rest of my life, on a weekend-to-weekend basis they will no longer be my personal playground. Instead I’ll be spending my time crisscrossing the Ortega Highway or heading up to Palomar or perhaps carving the roads surround Lake Arrowhead. Though I recognize these names, tonight they offer a very mysterious and faceless adventure since I’ve never ridden any of them. But they also present an opportunity to go beyond the known and expand my knowledge and love for California. While physically the area is located southeast of Los Angeles, it is my hope that somewhere between the fresh roads and the new adventures stands the chance to ‘go west’ once more.