I remember summers in the San Fernando Valley would be endless days of heat, dryness, the eternal stillness of foreign palms static without a breeze, and foot blistering asphalt. A brown cloud stretched from Sylmar to Sherman Oaks and over to Chatsworth and Woodland Hills, but it was immediately dispersed once you hit the Sepulveda Pass. I had to travel 45 minutes to escape the natural saucepan. Now I face misty fog covered mornings without much chance of evaporation. But it doesn’t really matter when I’m 15 minutes away from an icon like the Golden Gate Bridge. Like my first encounters with the Brooklyn Bridge, I can’t get over this fine example of humanity’s aesthetic prowess. It’s simplistic, but a bridges functionality is so fucking moving. See where we’re standing? See that piece of land over there? See this water in the way? I bet we can do something about it.

Anna and I took an urban hike down the coast this weekend from Crissy Field to Fort Point, a place popular for Golden Gate close-ups and Alfred Hitchcock nostalgia. I was also testing out a new lens my lovely wife bought me this week. I needed fresh eyes and she supplied them.

We started out, simple enough, walking down the coast on a well-paved trail.

I quickly began growing enamored of all the houseboats, yachts, and fishing boats. I think I’d last two hours out in the sea.

We moved along briskly until we found an adult playground. Below, Daredevil Anna at her best.

This is Anna’s “I want to go back to Tulum” face.

A free visitor’s center is about a mile into the walk. The building looks weathered, but its sturdiness was apparent. The texture of the center was gorgeous, marked with cracks, chips, dents and faded paint.

Then I asked Anna to show me her shark teeth.

Anna helped the French tourists with a family photo.

And I speared toward the quinceñera with all her caballeros surrounding her. Look at that dress! Pero que chulada!

San Francisco kind of had my heart after this. (My Los Angeles friends and family will not like this sentence)

There were more tourists than I expected, but the locals were out as well. Below, a fisherman casts his line while his friend plays some tunes. To the right, a boy exits the Warming Hut, a cafe/bookstore/restaurant with some of the better souvenirs I’ve seen in the city. Listen and learn, Fisherman’s Wharf.

We didn’t want to settle for the baguette bullshit. Anna doesn’t eat red meat, but the hot dog cart, “Let’s Be Frank”, carries a turkey option called “The Bird Dog.” It was meant to be, especially since Anna said the hot dog cart’s smell reminded her of camping.

You know how we do it!

At this point, I was feeling the tingly sensation I felt when I first encountered the Brooklyn Bridge in 2007.

Mandatory Golden Gate photo-op.

Anna was excited about taking my portrait.

I don’t want to compare everything to New York City, but I feel a strong sense of deja vu here; the industrial building, fog, towering behemoth of a structure and my perspective from below. It all reminded me of DUMBO in Brooklyn.

After five miles, fog, cold, warm, breeze, wind, pavement, sand, dirt trails, and my nonstop portrait taking, Anna took a breath, soaked it all in, and relaxed. It was our most productive saturday to date.

I gave Matt my camera so he could take a few shots of us. I’m hardly ever ready to relinquish the role as memory-capturer, but today was a special occasion. This marks my last day with the StoryCorps’ team. We only gathered three times during my tenure at StoryCorps. We met for training, we met for a mid-year retreat, and now we meet again for our departure. Five of us our leaving, a sixth leaves in late August.

I’ve never worked with a more mature, dedicated, smart, humorous, passionate and loving group of people. They’ve set the level extremely high for my next job. In fact, I’m terrified I’ll spend time without collaborating with gifted individuals like you see above. When words fail me, I turn to images that say what I cannot. Below, a tribute to the year that I’ll be reflecting on for the rest of my life.

Farewell To A Great Year from Alejandro De La Cruz on Vimeo.

Peeking out in the middle of the day.

You look good as a Shepard.

“What are you getting?”
“Tacos.”
“Which?”
“Cochinita. You?”
“Carnitas. And then Camaron al mojo de ajo. And then carne asada. Probably a lengua taco. And then I’ll finish off with another carnitas, camaron con chipotle and rajas taco. Do you want to order appetizers first?”
“Whoa.”

I’m not allergic to stencil-cats.

Is this the most menacing collection of headshots you’ve ever seen?

Shark bar, Shark Lounge, Spring Lounge, or whatever you’d like to call it, is a place you should definitely visit, but never want to love. They serve vodka/club soda in pint glasses here.

Focus!

I’m breaking the rules by showcasing a photo I didn’t take, but it was my birthday and I was busy having a blast. To salute you – amigos, compadres, comadres, familia – I’ve included a slideshow of the day. Most of these photos were taken by a drunken happy man filled with tinga de pollo and guacamole. Others were taken by friends making sure I wouldn’t be left with memories of plastic cups and Hefewiezen. I hope you enjoy these as much as I do.