“KB24 and ‘The Road Ride Not Taken’”
At approximately 3:45, I received a Lyft order substantially further south, in Dana Point, Ritz Carlton that I knew was a long destination ride, and was worth my driving 12 miles south for the pickup. $100+ order, I rightly presumed. I headed south on PCH, passing by Pelican Hill Resort on the left, winding through Laguna, Dana Point and arriving to the Ritz.
After dropping off the passengers, and being so early in morning, I often, only on the weekends given the light traffic conditions, drive up the Sepulveda pass on the 405, northbound, to the Ventura freeway. I do this to find early morning rides, passengers, in the Valley that may be in need of an early morning ride LAX, which they often do.
I then take the Ventura FWY northbound and exit at Las Vergenes Road, stop briefly at Jack In Box, then pass Lost Hills Rd, onward to the half way point between the 101 Freeway on the Valley side and Malibu, Pepperdine, on the Coast side of the Santa Monica mountains. Resting halfway between both points, Calabasas and Malibu, allows me to receive passenger orders from either Malibu, or Calabasas to Ventura county line for LAX bound travelers.
At approximately 6:20 am I received a ride order for LAX, 6 miles up on Piuma Road. It was road I’d not taken before, but I was soon to find out. Piuma Road is a very narrow 2 lane mountainous road that rises high, and narrowly, into the Santa Monica/Malibu Mountains, as much as 1000 ft I presume since my ears did equalize on the way. While just a quarter of mile heading up to my pickup point, I encountered intermittent fog, and slowed my assent to the points and elements unknown. Due to the escalating degree of fog, I could not immediately appreciate the cliffs along side of Piuma, until after a pause in the weather conditions, I was able to peek over the edge and it was a slightly sobering, drop. At some points further on my drive up, and break in visibility conditions, I estimated there must have been at least a breathtaking 4-600 ft drop. It was slightly unnerving. Besides that, the road was extremely winding and sharp with NASTY hairpin turns. After appreciating the drop cliff-side, I slowed and prayed, as the deep fog I began to encounter allowed only a cars length or two at the most of visibility ahead. I prayed drivers coming down the hill appreciated the danger I came to appreciate as I continued up. I couldn’t drive any more than 5 to 8 miles an hour 2 or 3 miles into the drive since the fog was incredibly thick, roads very wet, the drop on the right, and one small mistake would have been catastrophic. I’m from southern California and I know fog, and on a scale of 1-10, this fog was definitely an 10+.
I kept driving, very slowly, and within a few minutes, mile or two, I think I was approximately 3.5 miles into the pick up when unexpectedly, everything opened up. The road rose above the fog and cloud line, sunlight shocked my vision, with Mount Baldy shining away in the distance above all. Finally, I could breath. It was a welcoming, forgiving sight. Visibility up there, must have been a good 60 + miles, if not more. The road was dry, much better driving conditions, but the clouds and fog lingering below, carpeted the atmosphere for miles, a haunting baseline of fate and circumstances I’d come to appreciate days, weeks thereafter. That view and carpet of puffy, but ominous, clouds.
I picked up 6 guys with too many bags. They’d been trying to get a driver for over an hour as other drivers kept cancelling. I was apparently their 4 attempt in getting a ride. When I saw their bags I told them I wouldn’t be able to fit them all, and one was complaining about the cancellations and that he had a 7:20 boarding, American Airlines. It was 6:40. I allowed them to cram their bags and backpacks in, they thanked me, and we proceeded down the “oceanside” road to PCH. I wasn’t about to chance back down the road I’d just been. Not a problem! TG there was an alternate route.
I was never much of a basketball fan. I have mostly been a baseball, football, tennis and sometimes, hockey fan and participant. I knew so little of Kobe Bryant and the genius path in basketball he celebrated and championed. I know so different know, after that fateful Sunday morning and circumstances I came to experience.
Later that morning, when heading out on 101/Ventura FWY freeway to Calabasas from LAX, then westbound on Los Vergenes and Lost Hills Road, I passed another, stones throw away from fate, and the Kobe incident location, crash site. It was 3 hours prior to unfortunate matters that would occur that morning.
What is ever more ironic, oddly coincidental and troubling, is the fact that I lost my father to a helicopter crash when I was only nine.
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