As you can see, the weather was fine yesterday for sculling—or cycling—even though the mountains in the distance have been whitened by the series of storms we’ve been watching march through.
Thursday night pelted serious rain, even flooding some streets in Los Angeles; Friday night rained hard again; and last night even more came down. Stretches of the beach road are covered in sand. But that sand was dry yesterday morning, not wet, and the temperature was in the high 50s, quite comfortable for being outdoors.
I have at least a couple of cousins up there where the mountains are white, inspecting the snowpack to make sure we’ll have plenty of drinking water later this year. The mountains that ring Los Angeles can be quite striking the first morning after a snowfall, while the snow is still pristine and white. This time around I’d also judge the snow line was lower than usual, making for an even more dramatic wall of white to eyeball as I ride my morning loop.
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I am seriously jealous now!!! I had to drive ever so slowly to get Lauren to Dance Team practice this morning so that I wouldn't slide off the road on the sheet of ice that is calling itself a road. Of course I am better than sister B who is probably buried now. I hope she can get out so she can get Paul to his ski races today.
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