Twisting Asphalt - A SoCal Ducati Motorcycle Blog

The asphalt is bending into a calculating darkness as the cool wind snaps back and forth across the lanes. Each gust rushes down the face of the timeworn mountain with a ferocious fever that harpoons its victim with precision. Exposed parts of skin shuttering in its wake as the shadows grow blacker. The road becoming harder and harder to see.

But then in the darkness the apex approaches. You see the light. Bright, yellowish-white thundering light. And the throttle opens. Cracks back until its spinning out the engine as you cross the line of demarcation between the black and white.

With a roar the bike fires into the sunlight. Calls out for hikers to hear. You feel your eyes adjust. The temps shoot straight up. Suddenly its downright warm. You feel the sweat build beneath your helmet. Views of pine trees run for miles. Images eons in the making abound. And the glory of the road grows even greater.

Then with a flick it all starts again as the darkness grows once more…

The shadows battling back for supremacy of the mountain as The Angels Crest Highway carves its way towards the summit. A constant interplay between positive and negative associations which is both exhilarating and yet alternatively annoying. Because its in the shadows, where you fight the light, that you know potential disaster lurks. There’s the sand. Then the road salt. And of course the rocks you cannot see. In the light however none of those impediments leaves its mark.

The blindingly frank openness of the light offering an alternate road surface personality to emerge. One which lets those willing to ride conquer The Crest with a unique corner to corner connection of free-flowing speed.

To call The Angels Crest anything less then a divine sculpture of roadway would be a mistake. It’s a spectacular route that starts its adventure on the edge of the Los Angeles basin and then traverses the San Gaberiel Mountains on its way to the Antelope Valley. It wouldn’t be my first choice to spend mornings commuting over, as the vast majority of cars seem to find the route overly challenging, but treated as a roadway for pleasure on a motorcycle - particularly a sporty motorcycle - and you avail yourself an opportunity for pure unadulterated magic.

The concept of ‘magic’ is something that surfaces on the pages of this site regularly, but the ‘magic’ that exists on the Crest is something entirely unique. It’s the exception to the rule of the canyons. Unlike the tight twisting coastal variety, the collection of curving mountain roadways that line the San Gaberiel Mountains offers a totally different style of riding. Instead of dancing with gears as you do in the Santa Monica Mountains, up here among the forest of trees it’s a completely wide open frenzied experience which requires large fistfuls of throttle and showcases the brilliant possibility of repeated top-end speed. Corner after corner you watch the revs live at the top of the range as you’re offered the rare chance to listen to the sound of pure speed reverberate through the canyon walls. It’s a drastically different skill set then the one that’s required to proficiently ride near the coast but one whose intoxication is equally as strong. So enticing in fact that as you battle the harsh winter shadows, you find yourself thinking about next year and already mentally planning another trek during the summer when the sun is sitting high and the roads are crystal clear.

Newcomb’s Ranch on The Crest

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