The beauty of burn scars
The little birds are back. Blackened trees sprout leaves on the highest branches. Excavators clear plots, leaving shallow graves where homes once stood. At the base of the San Gabriel Mountains, in the foothill town of Altadena, things seem to be moving along. In time, reenvisioned and reconstructed, the future landscape will trace the path of one of the most destructive wildfires in California history, the Eaton Fire.
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Travel + Leisure
4 hours ago
- Travel + Leisure
This Remote U.S. Trail Has This U.S. Trail Has Black Sand Beaches, Elk Herds, and Is a Silent Haven With No Cell Service or Crowds
The Pacific Coast Highway is one of America's most iconic drives—a ribbon of asphalt tracing California's golden edge. But there's a place where the road simply gives up. Where the mountains rise so dramatically from the ocean that engineers were forced to reroute the highway inland. What remains is the Lost Coast, a raw and remote stretch of shoreline where the landscape refuses to bend to development, and where hikers trade cell service for sea lions. The Lost Coast Trail, a roughly 25-mile route between Mattole Beach and Black Sands Beach, cuts through the dramatic King Range Wilderness. It's not merely a hike—it's a passage into a world shaped by wind, water, and time. Fog wraps the cliffs like gauze. Bluffs crumble into black-sand beaches. And the rhythm of travel is governed not by schedules, but by the tide. There are no inns, no roadside cafés—only kelp-strewn shorelines, the rustle of elk in the brush, and paw prints from creatures you may or may not ever see. Solitude here is not a luxury but a given. The trail's remoteness is rivaled only by its dependence on the Pacific. Several stretches are impassable at high tide—and on certain days, the ocean never recedes enough to allow safe passage at all. Hikers must plan their journey with the precision of a sailor: each day choreographed around tide tables and narrow windows of safe crossing. Beyond its reliance on the tides, Lost Coast Trail showcases a side of California most people rarely see—one of solitude and stillness. The trail runs from bluffs and rocky boulder fields to the beach, where tide pools brim with starfish and coastal birds soar overhead. Glittering black-sand beaches are littered with sea lions and elephant seals, while a lucky few might spot a roaming black bear or elk, creatures that are also enjoying the stillness. Most hikers complete the roughly 25-mile trail in two to four days, though some opt to break it into sections. For overnight stays, a permit (and in some cases, a campfire permit) is required. Permits Hikers looking to do the full Lost Coast Trail as a backpacking trip must get an overnight permit for the King Range Wilderness. Permits can be reserved 90-days prior to entry and there are also a few walk-up permits available at the King Range Visitor Center by lottery. Permits are required year-round for overnight use. Camping Camping along the Lost Coast Trail is pretty straightforward: Once you have a permit, you are allowed to camp anywhere between Mattole Beach and Telegraph Creek (which is just north of Black Sands Beach at Shelter Cove). There are plenty of naturally flat campsites along the beach and in the bluffs, most of which are adjacent to a creek that provides water. A campfire permit is required to operate camp stoves or build campfires. Campfire permits are available at
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Travel + Leisure
7 hours ago
- Travel + Leisure
There's a Mini-Vegas in Downtown L.A. You Didn't Know About—Here's a Look Inside
Los Angeles is certainly not short of nightlife hotspots, but taking a weekend trip to Las Vegas to live it up at clubs, restaurants, and casinos is something of a rite of passage for most Angelenos. However, there's a place in downtown L.A. that offers a Sin City experience without the six-hour car ride: Level 8. Level 8 is located on the eighth floor of the 37-story building that houses the Moxy Downtown Los Angeles and the AC Hotel Downtown Los Angeles. It's in downtown L.A., just across the street from both the Los Angeles Convention Center and the Arena. Needless to say, Downtown L.A. has gotten a bad rap in recent years, but this particular pocket of the neighborhood is quiet and laidback, with attractions like the Grammy Museum and dining options like the Taiwanese casual eatery, Pine & Crane DTLA, in easy walking distance. Between the Moxy and the AC Hotel, there are a whopping 727 rooms. But despite sharing the same building, there are some striking differences between the two Yabu Pushelberg-designed properties. The Moxy is Marriott's playful, design-forward, yet affordable lifestyle brand. The design of this particular Moxy is inspired by the 1969 motorcycle flick 'Easy Rider' and the rebellious, artistic past of the Southern Californian desert. During their stay, guests can spot things like sandstone sculptures, rope art, and a motorcycle in the lobby as well as things like rope art, succulent planters, and cheeky alien wallpaper throughout the rest of the space. Rooms here start around 185 square feet, and while they are on the small side, they make use of every inch of space with underbed storage and a creative, minimalist clothes hanger that does double duty as a TV stand. 'Basically, the thought process was that we would make a deal with the traveler,' says Mitchell Hochberg, president of The Lightstone Group, the development company behind the Moxy and AC Hotel in downtown L.A., as well as the Moxys in New York City. 'We would give you an affordable rate, and in return, you would sacrifice something in size because the room would be smaller. But, it would be highly appointed with great design, and we would give you very activated public spaces.' During my time at the Moxy, I stayed in a corner room with a king-size bed and loved watching the traffic of the city pass me by from the comfort of my bed through floor-to-ceiling windows. It was also fun to find all the 'Easy Rider'–inspired details that were peppered throughout the room: there were motorcycle handlebars mounted on the wall as if they were a game trophy, hobo signs (a written language used among drifters to communicate with one another on the road) painted throughout the space, and shimmering gold tiles near the bathroom that were meant to evoke the Southern Californian sunset. Its sibling hotel, the AC, is just steps away from the Moxy, but the vibe couldn't be more different. While the lobby of the Moxy is located on the bottom floor of the building, you'll need to ride the elevator up 34 stories to reach the AC's 'sky lobby." Hochberg likes to imagine both hotels' personalities as people. "Let's think of that nomad, that countercultural person [from the Moxy]," Hochberg says. "They've now grown up, right? 'He,' who's the guy from 'Easy Rider,' is really now a 'she,' because the AC is a bit more feminine. She paints, she sculpts. She's decided to slow down a bit." The Mediterranean-esque, artsy ambiance is palpable as soon as you step foot in the lobby, with abstract paintings and textile art on the walls, Dr. Seuss-like succulents branching toward the ceiling from terracotta pots, and a large, homey wooden table in the center of it all. The rates here are, on average, about $20 to $30 more than the Moxy, but you get slightly larger rooms (they start at around 225 square feet) and things like a couch and desk area, for those who like to work from hotel. Whatever accommodations you choose, the real appeal of staying at either the Moxy or the AC Hotel is that it puts you just a stone's throw from Level 8. 'Food and beverage, we feel, is critical to this overall experience of experiential travel,' says Hochberg. The self-described 'multi-dimensional dining, drinking, and entertainment concept' clocks in at a whopping 30,000 square feet and is home to eight different venues set in a labyrinthian layout. The show-stopping shebang was dreamed up by Hochberg in collaboration with Mark and Jonnie Houston of Houston Hospitality, who are behind Hollywood bars like Madame Siam and Dirty Laundry. Even though I stayed here two nights (one night at the Moxy and AC Hotel, respectively), I didn't have enough time to experience every restaurant here. There's Qué Bárbaro, where you can watch your meal—think pork chops, hanger steaks, and prime cuts of wagyu—grilled over open flames. Lucky Mizu, with its charming wall of smiling maneki-neko, specializes in Japanese shabu shabu and sushi. Maison Kasai takes a decidedly Vegas-style spin on the traditional teppanyaki experience—throughout your meal, you'll see magicians from L.A.'s legendary Magic Castle flitting from table to table as they perform sleight of hand card tricks. However, out of all the dining experiences available, I was perhaps most taken by Mother of Pearl, the al fresco seafood-focused eatery helmed by chef Joshua Gil, who was the chef de cuisine at the erstwhile Michelin-starred Joe's Restaurant in Venice. While there are things like caviar bumps and ceviche on the menu, I recommend springing for one of the oh-so Instagrammable seafood towers. Pro-tip: this is a great place for a date night—if there's a better place to experience golden hour over a dozen oysters in downtown L.A., I've yet to find it. Many people do come to Level 8 to indulge in the restaurants, but make no mistake, this is a nightlife venue, and an expertly designed one at that. Being able to move from bar to bar without having to cross a street or order a car is a major bonus for a night out in Downtown L.A. As the sun begins to set, head to the rooftop pool bar Golden Hour, where you can show off your moves at DJ-led dance parties that go long into the wee hours of the night. Then move on to the entertainment venue Mr. Wanderlust, where you'll find a rotating piano stage, live bands, burlesque shows, and an aerialist who performs out front. However, the most unique offering here is arguably Sinners y Santos. The idea here is that the bar was an 'abandoned 19th-century cathedral that has been converted into a clandestine wrestling theater.' To me, it's worth the trip up to Level 8 just to see the edgy, cathedral-inspired decor—i.e. the pipe organ DJ booth, votive candles, and tin ceiling—but make sure to stick around until midnight, when a wrestling ring drops from the ceiling over the bar, and masked luchadores wrestle amid scantily clad bottle girls. Finish the night off with a Californian-style burrito (which means they're stuffed with French fries) from the L.A. taco truck-inspired Brown Sheep, which serves things like quesabirria tacos. In the morning, after all the festivities are over, grab a coffee from Bluestone Lane, conveniently located on the bottom floor of the building in the Moxy. Though you may need several days to get a taste of all that Level 8 has to offer, one thing is for certain: a night here is nothing if not memorable—and fun. "I honestly believe this does not exist anywhere else in the world, " Hochberg says. "There's nothing like it. It's a journey."
New York Times
9 hours ago
- New York Times
120 Degrees and Still They Come: The Allure of Death Valley in the Summer
Death Valley bills itself as the lowest, driest and hottest national park in America. Each summer, an outlandish heat grips the valley, making it unfit for humans. People come anyway. Around 250,000 of the more than 1 million people who visit the park annually come in June, July and August. (In 2024, the park logged 1.4 million visitors for the entire year, the highest ever.) The park's popularity coincides with another trend: rising temperatures. Seven of the 10 hottest summers in the park have occurred in the last decade. In 2007, the average temperature was 102.6 degrees; in 2024, 104.5. Last July, the park withstood temperatures of 125 or higher for nine days in a row: a record. This summer, temperatures have risen as high as 124. Surprisingly, none of this is a deterrent to people like Steven Yoder, from Virginia, who was in the middle of a R.V. trip across the American West with his wife and six children in mid-July. They marveled at Death Valley's dramatic peaks and stark Martian landscape. 'In Virginia, we consider our heat pretty punishing, but this is something else,' he said wonderingly. 'Occasionally we get visitors who are a little surprised by what 120 degrees actually feels like,' said Matthew Lamar, a park ranger. He added that most summer visitors have a safe experience as long as they follow the park's safety protocols: Minimize time in the elements (no more than 10 minutes away from an air-conditioned car), drink water (at least a gallon a day), eat salty snacks and stick to paved roads. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
