Razor Point at Torrey Pines

Author's Comments

The trail is short and the payoff is disproportionate. Seven tenths of a mile from the visitor center and the ground beneath you starts to do something strange. The sandstone has been eroded into narrow fins and ravines that drop away on either side, and at the end of the path the ridges reach toward the Pacific like fingers worn down by a slow hand. The colors in the ravines are what surprised me on my first visit. Rust, ochre, a pale gray that goes almost pink in the right light. I had expected the ocean to be the subject and found myself shooting the ground instead. Golden hour in winter is when this place earns the trip. The sun drops to the south and rakes across the ridges at an angle that finds every edge and shadow, and the eroded walls light up in a way that flat midday sun completely flattens. The crowds thin in the last hour before sunset. I have stood at the point with maybe two other people, the coastline opening north toward Del Mar and south toward La Jolla, the water going from blue to bronze as the light changes. A wide lens for the coastline, something longer for the ravines themselves. The edges are genuinely fragile and genuinely dangerous, and the photograph is not worth what some people seem willing to risk for it. Stay on the trail. The view from the marked overlook is already more than enough.

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