“Look at what you built, we started with four men and now check this out,” Sergio Garcia, the sergeant at arms of the Aztec Rebels club, told Andrés Lucero as he pointed at the packed party, while their kids ran around the space and women chatted at one of the tables. Andrés didn’t say anything, but his eyes said it all — the pride of seeing his dream become a reality, surrounded by friends who had become family.

Thanksgiving night. The South Bronx.

A small opening reveals concrete stairs that go down to the basement in a quiet New York City street. But the silence doesn’t last too long. The smell of lime and oregano mixes with the faint aroma of beer as the sound of banda music fills the basement space. Tables are filled to the brim with steaming bowls of pozole, and a soft murmur of conversations weaves through the room like an invisible thread.

Andrés Morales, the club’s founder and former president, stands with club members during their Thanksgiving party in the South Bronx.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

The Aztec Rebels start their motors before departing on a night ride in the Bronx.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Sergio Garcia, known as “Toluco,” jokes with his son outside of “Mama Puebla,” a Mexican restaurant in the Bronx owned by one of the Aztec Rebels.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

All the leather-vested men look to the staircase. As Andrés removed his beanie, a bald eagle tattoo was revealed, glistening under the dim lights. He walked down the steps like an old Hollywood movie star entering a bar, eyes fixed on the gathering.

The November wind blew in from the East River on to Intervale Avenue. But here, Andrés’ gaze softened as he watched his people together, sharing stories and laughter.

Jossiel Estefes and daughter pose for a portrait during a Thanksgiving party in the Bronx. He had recently became an official in the club.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

The festivities that night were a testament to how far the club had come, and also spoke of how Latino communities tend to integrate into American culture: While they were celebrating Thanksgiving, there was no turkey or gravy, but rather pozole, chicken and black mole, traditional of Puebla, where most of the Mexican population in New York is from. But to truly understand the Aztec Rebels, you have to look back at how Andrés and his brother, Eddie Lucero, started their journey in a very different South Bronx.

Aztec Rebels dance cumbia with their loved ones at the Thanksgiving party.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Children sleep during the Aztec Rebel’s Thanksgiving dinner in the South Bronx.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

Andrés founded the Aztec Rebels with Eddie after learning the culture and politics in a Bronx motorcycling club called The Roadrunners. They dreamt of creating a space where they could hear their own music, speak their language, and be understood. “I started hanging out with The Roadrunners when I was 19. Eddie was 12, and he would tag along everywhere we went. My brother grew up in that club. He has always lived the life of a biker, so, in a way, we learned what a motorcycle club was. That’s why we were able to start our own club on the basis of what an actual club is.”

After deciding on brown to be the club’s color and designing the Aztec eagle insignia, the Aztec Rebels MC was officially founded in 2016 with five founding members. They’ve since expanded to over 20 full members and five prospects from every borough of NYC. Most of them live in the Bronx and Staten Island — “La Isla,” as they colloquially call it.

Sergio Garcia, known as Toluco, the Aztec Rebels’ Sergeant at Arms, smokes his cigar during a Thanksgiving party.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez 

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez 

Every full member goes through a sometimes years-long process that begins with an invite, becoming a prospect and learning the rules of the club through a current member before gaining their three distinctive vest patches. A flier for the club reads: “We accept every nationality. You don’t need a motorcycle to enter, but we do expect you to get one eventually.” The Aztecs, nonetheless, are primarily Mexican, speckled by a few Ecuadorians and a Honduran member.

Each has a different story and connection to Mexico.

“For me, the journey here was more of a game, an adventure through the desert,” Andrés says when recalling his migratory journey. “I came in ’86 and have always been looking for the opportunity to improve my situation, even when I was a kid. I was 12, and for me, it was just normal. I didn’t see the danger back then, but if I had to do it again, I would be very scared, because I’ve heard a lot of horror stories from recent migrants.”

His parents had arrived five years earlier from Piaxtla, a town of 15,000 in the mountains of Puebla. They started a fabric factory in uptown Manhattan and rented an apartment on Southern Boulevard in the Bronx. “I come from a pueblo — I was never from the city — so it was a really drastic change to arrive here and see all the people. Especially in that time — the Bronx was in the middle of the drug pandemic. Crack.”

Children crack open a piñata during a birthday party in Staten Island on May 24, 2024.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

The Aztec Rebels’ children jump to gather candies dropped after breaking open a piñata.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Alfredo Ramirez, known as “Mad Max,” receives a birthday cake during a party in Staten Island.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

In the ’80s, the South Bronx still bore the scars of fires that burned entire neighborhoods to the ground the prior decade. “There were a lot of burnt buildings. It looked like a war zone. A lot of people are using drugs in the streets. I adapt quickly, nonetheless. In the end, it didn’t scare me; I just had to get used to everything. After a couple of years, it was just normal to see what was going on,” Andrés recalls from his youth.

Mexican immigration to the United States dates back to the beginning of the 20th century, with undocumented agricultural laborers traveling to work in the Californian fields. In the 1940’s, the Bracero program formalized the employment of many of these workers, who were needed to fill the gap created by the demand for men during World War II. Throughout the century, the practice of young men migrating to work in the United States grew more and more common.

In 1980, there were 39,000 people of Mexican origin in New York state, while 10 years later, the census registered an yearly increase of 8.8%. It is in this landscape that so many Mexicans have built a home in the United States, finding themselves and creating communities that make them feel safe and with a sense of identity.

Andrés Lucero poses for a portrait beside his Volkswagen Beetle on Aug. 21, 2024.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

In 2020, Andrés handed the president’s badge to his brother and now spends most of his time running a deli on Third Avenue. The back of the store, adorned with a Virgen de Guadalupe sprayed in gritty black graffiti, doubles as his tattoo parlor. His home is still the apartment building where his parents settled in the ’80s. One of the doors belongs to Eddie.

Stern and serious, Eddie carries an almost military posture in his shoulders — gained by private security training and a lifetime living among the club — along with five commanding officers, they keep the Aztecs riding. Eddie is not only the club president and a commanding presence amongst the Aztecs; he is also father to twin teenagers that often spend time with the club, when they are not playing soccer with the FC Harlem. Eddie, as part of a sort of training, tells his kids of the tough decisions he sometimes has to make as president, and asks them what they would do. Explaining and passing on the most important value of the club: the value of family. He is also the friendliest of the group when playing with the other members’ kids. He is loved and respected by everyone.

Christian Pérez, the club’s treasurer, is reflected in a motorcycle mirror before a ride to Long Island on Feb. 25, 2024.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Some of the Aztec Rebels look out toward a lake in Long Island during a ride.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Riders hold a lot of stigma and stereotypes of machismo and misogyny, sometimes supported by long-held traditions and questionable practices. To illustrate, in most motorcycle clubs, wives and girlfriends of the group wear vests that read “Property of X M.C.” As president, Eddie broke that tradition by writing “Protected by Aztec Rebels M.C.” on the women’s vests.

When looking at one of the Aztecs’ gatherings, one must see beyond the vests and the stereotypes surrounding motorcycle culture. Although they might look tough on the outside, the men that form this community are responsible family men. The club also provides a family to those who, in some cases, left their families behind and started a life completely on their own in the United States.

“People are always looking for a family, and that’s why sometimes they get into gangs. We want to be that place where Mexicans can come and be in a safe environment, without violence, but with a family,” Eddie says.

“Diablo” poses for a portrait during a ride to Long Island.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

At 19, ‘Diablo,’ is the youngest full member in the Aztecs. He asked us not to use his full name because of his immigration status. Most, or rather none, of the members know his actual name; they refer to him by the nickname he earned from his love of speed on his motorbike.

“I went straight into middle school and had a lot of fights. People tried to bully me because I didn’t speak English, so I just defended myself, and only then did they respect me and start hanging out with me,” Diablo recalls.

He sticks out from the other Aztecs only for his skinny build and the noticeable age difference. But he is just one of them when it comes to the brotherly rowdiness and banter.

“My mother told me that the fights in high school were not irrelevant, but they meant knives and weapons. All my friends went to the same high school, but I didn’t tell them and went to a different one. Most of them are now in gangs and some of them are no longer around,” he says, while hanging out next to a food truck selling birria and tacos on a highway in Connecticut.

Andrés Lucero, the club’s founder and former president, draws the outline of the club’s logo on the wall of their first clubhouse in Hunts Point on May 26, 2024.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Members of the Aztec Rebels play pool in their newly opened clubhouse.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Christian Perez holds his newborn at the Aztec Rebels recently opened clubhouse in Hunts Point, in the Bronx.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Since 2016, the Rebels have been gathering in their personal apartments, garages and basements, from Yonkers to Staten Island, or “La Isla,” as they call it. But they’ve always wanted to have a permanent home.

As their numbers increased, the commanding officers started looking for potential places to rent, primarily in the South Bronx. They visited more than 20 lots that they could use, but were always turned down.

Eddie Lucero, the club’s president, poses for a portrait with his twins, Eddie and Ethan, during an Easter egg hunt on Randall’s Island for the Aztec Rebels and their families.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

This year, their efforts finally came to fruition. A remote street next to the Hunts Point “marketa,” as the Latino community calls it, finally accepted the Aztec Rebels as tenants. Eddie called an emergency meeting at the new location without giving away the surprise. All the men answered the call. They came thinking that their president was in danger. They climbed up the stairs without removing their helmets, ready for anything. And there stood Eddie: he said. “Welcome to your new house.”

In the next couple weeks, they remodeled the space with their bare hands. Most have worked in construction, so it wasn’t hard for them. They added a classic pool and foosball table, and a TV, where they watched the Mexican soccer league’s final between Club América and Cruz Azul.

“There’s a different way to do things. You don’t have to follow a straight path. We broke the mold by being Mexican bikers in New York. You can be wholesome and be a family man. And you can be more than just a biker. You can be a leader in your community and help everybody out by being part of something big,” Eddie concluded.

Sergio Garcia and Carlos Villatoro look at the skyline from the rooftop of the Aztec Rebels recently opened clubhouse in Hunts Point, in the Bronx.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

The Aztec Rebels stand outside their newly opened clubhouse in the Hunts Point neighborhood of the Bronx on May 26, 2024.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Skid marks left behind in a parking lot during a ride to Long Island.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Mayolo López Gutiérrez is a photojournalist based in Mexico City. You can see more of Mayolo’s work on his website, mayolopezgutierrez.com, or on Instagram at @fotomayo. 

Photo edited by Virginia Lozano. Copy edited by Zach Thompson.

Has it occurred to you that civilization might be overrated?

Me too. So I’ve been thinking about the natural world — actually, the many natural worlds contained within California, and how whole they can make us feel.

With that and the new year in mind, here are a dozen seasonally suitable classic California adventures. These are places where you can huddle with a loved one or steer clear of people entirely.

If you’ve been in the state a while, you’ve probably tried a few of them. Maybe you’ve meant to try a few more. And maybe 2025 is the year to act on that idea.

January: Spy on whales off San Diego

A gray whale swims in San Diego Bay.

(Birch Aquarium at Scripps Institution of Oceanography)

Gray whales migrate along the California coast from December through May, prompting winter whale-watching boats to head out regularly from harbors up and down the state. San Diego has a hefty supply of them, including Adventure Whale Watching (which uses rigid inflatable boats that are smaller and faster than the catamarans and other vessels most companies use), H&M Landing, San Diego Whale Watch, Oceanside Whale Watching and City Cruises by Hornblower. Excursions typically last two to four hours and cost $40 to $109 per adult.

On any of those boats, you should hear plenty about the wonders of Eschrichtius robustus (the gray whale), which gets up to 49 feet long, often migrating 10,000 miles (round trip) in a year.

Meanwhile, you may come across pods of dolphins — sometimes hundreds — leaping in the surf. Several dolphin species are common in these waters.

BTW: San Diego also has a few strong spots for whale watching from land, especially Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve in La Jolla and Cabrillo National Monument on Point Loma. If you don’t get around to chasing whales this winter, blue whales and fin whales swim through the same coastal waters May through November, and humpback and minke whales may be seen year-round.

February: Zip down Mammoth Mountain

Skiers walking by the lodge at Mammoth Mountain in February.

(Samantha Lindberg / Visit Mammoth)

Every winter, legions zoom up from Southern California for winter sports at Mammoth Mountain (and many more come in other seasons for hiking, fishing and mountain biking). The ski and snowboarding operation, which includes 25 lifts, 3,500 skiable acres and a season that usually runs November through June, was founded in 1953 by a moonlighting hydrologist named Dave McCoy.

The mountain also has 19 miles of cross-country skiing based at the rustic lakeside Tamarack Lodge (which has the resort’s fanciest restaurant, the Lakefront) and 1,500 acres of beginner-friendly territory at nearby June Mountain (where kids 12 and under ski or ride for free).

BTW: To break up the 300-mile L.A. to Mammoth drive, detour into the rugged Alabama Hills near Lone Pine, where dozens of movies and TV shows have been filmed, including the first “Lone Ranger” film from 1938. Check out Lone Pine’s Museum of Western Film History. Farther up the road you’ll hit Bishop, the best place for a bite or overnight on the way to Mammoth.

March: Roam among Antelope Valley poppies

Visitors walk on a meandering path in the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve.

(Francine Orr / Los Angeles Times)

The Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve’s rolling hills go orange in spring, usually March to May. The poppy bloom, which varies widely from year to year, can blanket the slopes. Purple lupine and other wildflowers may show up too. This 1,781-acre preserve ($10 per car to enter) includes eight miles of broad, smooth paths for walking among the flowers. (A portion, just west of the visitor center, is wheelchair-accessible.) Don’t pick any poppies or go tromping off-trail. But you can lead your friends to a high spot, such as Antelope Butte Vista Point to the east or Tehachapi Vista Point to the west, and then casually mention that Eschscholzia californica has been the state flower since 1903.

BTW: In years like 2019, when a superbloom attracted thousands of visitors, the reserve’s parking lot isn’t nearly big enough. (In 2024, the parking was easy because the blooms were subpar.) Bear in mind that many poppies bloom on roadside slopes outside the reserve. If you can do so safely, legally park on a shoulder along or near Lancaster Road and you might save $10.

April: Hear Burney Falls roar

A visitor stands beside Burney Falls in California’s Shasta County.

(Paul Kuroda / For The Times)

Near the northern edge of California, you can see four or more waterfalls in a day. But some get crowded on summer weekends, so a visit in spring (especially on a weekday) will give you more elbow room. The big one is Burney Falls, 129 feet high, with a wide, thundering cascade. It’s the headliner at McArthur-Burney Falls Memorial State Park, about 65 miles northeast of Redding ($10 to enter; note that some trails, including the Falls Loop Trail, have been closed for long-term maintenance work).

Next, head to McCloud Falls, a series of three cascades about 45 miles northwest of Burney Falls along California 89. It’s seven miles round trip to hike the trail connecting the three cascades; all are part of Shasta-Trinity National Forest, with campgrounds nearby.

May: See green along Highway 46, west of Paso Robles

A sightseer stands along Highway 46, west of Paso Robles.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

Advertisement

So long as it rains just a little in spring, the drive along Highway 46 between Paso Robles and the San Luis Obispo County coast is 22 miles of scenery so green and gorgeous, it’s a traffic hazard. Verdant hills. Grizzled oaks. Grapevines in formation like troops about to march. Country roads that will take you to tasting rooms. As you head west, you’ll glimpse Morro Rock and the blue Pacific in the distance. When you reach the traffic circle at Vineyard Drive, about 4.6 miles west of Highway 101, you may be tempted to wander off on Vineyard for a few miles of low-speed bucolic splendor. Do it. When you’re westbound on 46 again, you’ll find several scenic turnout spots as it twists and swoops to its end at Highway 1. From there, you’ll be choosing between Cambria (4 miles north) and Cayucos (11 miles south), with the hamlet of Harmony on the way.

BTW: If you’re overnighting in Paso Robles, consider Sensorio, a walk-through display of ever-changing lights, most of it concocted by artist Bruce Munro. Imagine electric flowers with a dimmer switch. (And in some displays, the changing colors are set to music.) It’s generally open Thursday through Sunday nights. Adult all-access passes start at $65.

June: Raft the American River’s South Fork

River guide Kyle Brazil navigates the South Fork of the American River, near Coloma.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

Advertisement

Running a river is a signature thrill in California’s Gold Country — and if it’s early summer, you can expect a few splashes of cold water on your face. Guides say the South Fork of the American River is a perfect introduction to river rafting, thanks to its evocative scenery, relatively mild Class III rapids and proximity to campgrounds and the pleasant town of Placerville.

Rookies should sign on with a licensed, experienced company. Family-friendly river floats typically begin north of Placerville, below the Chili Bar Reservoir, near Coloma. All-day rafting trips typically cost $100 to $180 per person. Half-day trips also are often available.

BTW: Marshall Gold Discovery State Historic Park, where the Gold Rush began, is less than a mile from many of Coloma’s whitewater rafting outfitters along California 49.

July: Soar (or stand by) at the Torrey Pines Gliderport

Torrey Pines Gliderport sits on a cliff top in La Jolla next to the UC San Diego campus.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

Advertisement

This is the place to see people jump off a cliff, then rise on the updraft. The gliderport sits between the UC San Diego campus and the Pacific, sending skyward a steady stream of paraglider pilots and the occasional model airplane. Grab breakfast or lunch at the Cliffhanger Cafe (where none of the soup or sandwiches costs more than $11.25), settle in at a picnic table and watch the action in the air. (On Saturday afternoons in summer, there’s usually live music.)

Sail planes were taking off here as early as the 1920s. In 1930, Charles Lindbergh glided on these winds. Hang gliders joined in the 1970s, then paragliders, then tandem paraglider flights (bookable for $200). See the shoreline about 200 feet below? That’s Black’s Beach, accessible by a steep, half-mile trail. (The beach also has a nude zone.)

BTW: For a smoother hike to the beach and equally amazing views, try the Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve. For straight-up beach time, head for the sand beneath the cliffs at Torrey Pines State Beach.

August: Camp or kayak at Santa Cruz Island

The tide laps at Scorpion Anchorage on Santa Cruz Island, Channel Islands National Park.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

Advertisement

On a clear day, you might glimpse the silhouette of Santa Cruz Island from the California mainland. But it takes a boat ride out there — ideally followed by a night of camping — to appreciate the island’s rugged bluffs, flowery meadows, raw beaches and sea caves. It’s the largest section of the chronically under-visited Channel Islands National Park.

The island’s Scorpion Anchorage, where most visitors arrive, is about an hour’s boat ride via Island Packers from Ventura Harbor. You can do a day trip or camp. Either way, you can snorkel and kayak in sea caves with a guide and rented vessel from Channel Islands Adventure Co. Or hike to Smugglers Cove. On your way, keep an eye out for island foxes, once endangered, now plentiful and skilled in campsite food thievery. (Island Packers, which has sailed among the Channel Islands for decades, is the National Park Service’s concessionaire for transport to and from the mainland.)

Once, the island’s hills and valleys were home to 11 Chumash villages (and Santa Cruz served as a sheep ranch as recently as 1984). Nowadays, there’s one 31-site campground about half a mile’s walk from Scorpion Anchorage. The park service controls about a quarter of Santa Cruz. The rest, owned by the Nature Conservancy, is off-limits.

BTW: If you only have time for a day trip, consider nearby Anacapa Island, home to a 1932 lighthouse, spectacular views and two miles of trails. But maybe wait another month. During the March-through-August nesting season, that island sees enough swooping, shrieking, pooping seabirds to trouble Alfred Hitchcock’s dreams.

September: Hike Yosemite, far from cars

Yosemite National Park’s Half Dome, dusted with snow, rises above Yosemite Valley.

(Carolyn Cole / Los Angeles Times)

Advertisement

Yosemite National Park is vast, gorgeous and busy in summer, even when there’s a day-trip reservation requirement in place. But if you wait until the second half of September, when most kids have gone back to school, the chaos is reduced. And as soon as you get one mile from the nearest road, chances are you’ll see a lot more trees than people. Be sure to check reservation requirements well ahead.

Once there, if you’re a newbie, head for Yosemite Falls, the great spigot of Yosemite Valley and North America’s tallest waterfall, a 2,425-foot medley of cascades down granite walls. Later maybe climb the Yosemite Falls Trail to Columbia Rock (two miles round trip). Or try the Mist Trail to the top of Vernal Falls.

But remember, the valley is six square miles in a 1,187-square-mile park. From there, you could drive into the high country and catch the panorama from Glacier Point. You could check out the Hetch Hetchy Valley. You could take Tioga Road (which usually closes for the winter in November, reopening in late May or June) to Olmsted Point, Tuolumne Meadows and Tenaya Lake.

BTW: Lodging options inside the park have shrunk with the indefinite closure of the Wawona Hotel on Dec. 2. Also bear in mind: An extensive seismic retrofit was due to continue at the Ahwahnee Hotel through the end of 2024; and Aramark, the concession company whose subsidiary runs the Ahwahnee and other Yosemite operations, has been faulted by parks officials for multiple operational lapses in the last two years.

October: See trees at Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park

Fern Canyon Trail in Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park greets visitors with 50-foot fern-covered walls.

(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)

In Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, about 50 miles north of Eureka, Prairie Creek Trail leads hikers through a grove of implausibly tall old trees. The park’s Elk Prairie and Gold Bluffs Beach campgrounds also are popular, and its mile-long Fern Canyon trail is famed as a shooting location for the “Jurassic Park” movie “The Lost World.”

The surrounding Redwoods National and State Parks include miles of trails and coastline north and south of the Klamath River estuary, including the rocky coastal view from High Bluff Overlook. Even in summer, this territory is relatively uncrowded. In fall, that will be doubly true. (Del Norte County’s population is less than 30,000.) Just be ready to be cool and damp. If you need a bed or breakfast, consider the Historic Requa Inn, a rustic landmark alongside the Klamath River that dates to 1914.

November: Gather driftwood at Moonstone Beach

Cambria’s Moonstone Beach Drive features rocky coastline and abundant driftwood.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

Advertisement

Cambria is a coastal town for all seasons. The shoreline is mostly rugged and rocky, with pines marching up steep, often-foggy slopes. In the midst of this waits Moonstone Beach, often strewn with driftwood, and Moonstone Beach Drive, which is lined by about a dozen inns and boutique hotels.

Stroll the mile-long Moonstone Beach Boardwalk. Make a fort out of some driftwood. Hike on the Fiscalini Ranch Preserve‘s Bluff Trail. Sample the eclectic menu at Robin’s Restaurant (a mainstay for more than 25 years), dig into olallieberry pie at Linn’s Restaurant (more than 30 years). Or stand in line for seafood at the cash-only, no-reservations Sea Chest Oyster Bar, which turns 50 in 2025.

BTW: Remember to visit San Simeon and Hearst Castle, about nine miles up the road. Also remember that you can’t continue up Highway 1 to Big Sur. The highway is closed two miles north of Lucia for major repairs. Caltrans officials say they expect to reopen some time in 2025, with a date to be determined.

December: Hug a boulder in Joshua Tree’s Hidden Valley

Climbers and campers revere Hidden Valley in Joshua Tree National Park.

(Christopher Reynolds / Los Angeles Times)

Advertisement

Hidden Valley in Joshua Tree National Park draws climbers, boulderers, desert campers and geology geeks from all over. Hidden Valley has 44 first-come, first-served campsites (Joshua Tree has about 500 campsites total) and no water — but those rocks! They look even more amazing when reflected in the water that sometimes accumulates at nearby Barker Dam. There’s also prime stargazing and edgy art around the fringes of the park, courtesy of Noah Purifoy, High Desert Test Sites, Desert X and others.

BTW: If you don’t know much about singer-songwriter Gram Parsons’ life and death, you could book the Joshua Tree Inn, where Parsons spent his last night in Room 8.

“Mira lo que construiste, comenzamos con cuatro cabrones y ahora mira esto”, dijo Sergio García, el Sargento de Armas, a Andrés Lucero, señalando la fiesta llena de gente, con niños corriendo por todas partes y mujeres charlando en una de las mesas.

Andrés no respondió, pero sus ojos lo decían todo: el orgullo de ver su sueño hecho realidad, rodeado de amigos que se habían convertido en familia.

Era la cena de Thanksgiving, la celebración Acción de Gracias en el sur del Bronx en Nueva York. Los hombres traían puestos chalecos de cuero, emblemáticos del club Aztec Rebels, con los ojos puestos en la reunión.

Andrés Morales, fundador y ex presidente del club, posa junto a los miembros del club durante la fiesta de Acción de Gracias celebrada en el sur del Bronx.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Los Aztec Rebels encienden sus motores antes de emprender un paseo nocturno en el Bronx.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Sergio García, conocido como “Toluco”, bromea con su hijo frente a “Mamá Puebla”, un restaurante mexicano en el Bronx propiedad de uno de los Aztec Rebels.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Cuando Andrés se quitó el gorro, su tatuaje de águila calva brilló bajo las luces tenues. Andrés bajó los escalones con la seguridad de una estrella de cine de la época dorada de Hollywood, caminando con paso firme hacia la reunión, sin apartar la mirada del lugar que tanto había trabajado para construir.

Jossiel Estefes y su hija posan para un retrato durante la cena de Acción de Gracias de los Aztec Rebels en el sur del Bronx.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

Andrés fundó los Aztec Rebels junto a Eddie después de aprender sobre la cultura y las dinámicas de un club de motociclistas del Bronx llamado The Roadrunners. Juntos soñaron con crear un espacio donde pudieran escuchar su propia música, hablar su idioma y sentirse comprendidos.

– “Comencé a pasar tiempo con los Roadrunners cuando tenía 19 años. Eddie tenía 12 y me acompañaba a todos lados. Mi hermano creció en ese club. Siempre ha vivido la vida de un motociclista, así que, de alguna manera, aprendimos qué era un club de motociclistas. Por eso pudimos fundar nuestro propio club, basado en lo que realmente es un club,” dijo Eddie.

El club nació oficialmente en 2016, con solo cinco miembros fundadores. Después de decidir que el marrón sería su color distintivo y diseñar el emblema del águila azteca, los Aztec Rebels MC se expandieron rápidamente, alcanzando más de 20 miembros activos y cinco prospectos provenientes de todos los condados de Nueva York. La mayoría de ellos vive en el Bronx y Staten Island– La Isla, como la llaman con cariño.

Los Aztec Rebels bailan cumbia con sus seres queridos durante la fiesta de Acción de Gracias en el South Bronx.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

Los niños descansan durante la cena de Acción de Gracias de los Aztec Rebels en el sur del Bronx.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

Cada miembro pasa por un proceso de iniciación que a veces dura años. Comienza con una invitación, luego se convierten en prospectos, y a través de un padrino, aprenden las reglas del club antes de recibir los tres parches distintivos en su chaleco.

Un volante del club dice: “Aceptamos todas las nacionalidades. No necesitas una motocicleta para entrar, pero esperamos que eventualmente consigas una”. A pesar de ser un club diverso, la mayoría de los Aztec Rebels son mexicanos, aunque entre ellos hay también algunos ecuatorianos y un hondureño.

Sergio García, conocido como “Toluco“, el Sargento de Armas de los Aztec Rebels, fuma un cigarro mientras disfruta de la fiesta de Acción de Gracias.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Cada uno de ellos tiene una historia única y una conexión distinta con México.

– “Para mí, el viaje hasta aquí fue más un juego, una aventura a través del desierto”, dijo Andrés Lucero, al recordar su travesía migratoria.

“Llegué en el ’86 y siempre he estado buscando la oportunidad de mejorar mi situación, incluso cuando era niño. Tenía 12 años, y para mí era algo normal. No veía el peligro en ese entonces, pero si tuviera que hacerlo de nuevo, tendría mucho miedo, porque he escuchado muchas historias de terror de los migrantes recientes”. Sus padres llegaron cinco años antes, desde Piaxtla, un pueblo de 15,000 habitantes en las montañas de Puebla. Empezaron una fábrica de telas en el norte de Manhattan y se establecieron en un apartamento en Southern Boulevard, en el Bronx.

Los niños rompen una piñata durante una fiesta de cumpleaños en Staten Island, el 24 de mayo de 2024.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Los hijos de los Aztec Rebels saltan al unísono para recoger los dulces que cayeron tras romper una piñata.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Alfredo Ramírez, conocido como “Mad Max”, recibe un pastel de cumpleaños durante una fiesta celebrada en Staten Island.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

“Vengo de un pueblo — nunca fui de la ciudad — así que fue un cambio muy drástico llegar aquí y ver a tanta gente. Especialmente en esa época — el Bronx estaba en medio de la pandemia de drogas: crack”, recordó Andres. En los años 80, el South Bronx aún llevaba las cicatrices de los incendios que arrasaron barrios enteros durante la década anterior.

“Había muchos edificios quemados. Parecía una zona de guerra. Había mucha gente consumiendo drogas en las calles. Sin embargo, me adapté rápido. Al final, no me asustaba; simplemente tenía que acostumbrarme a todo. Después de un par de años, era normal ver lo que estaba pasando”.

La inmigración mexicana a los Estados Unidos tiene una larga historia, remontándose a principios del siglo XX, cuando trabajadores agrícolas indocumentados viajaban para laborar en los campos de California. En la década de 1940, el programa Bracero formalizó el empleo de muchos de estos trabajadores, necesarios para suplir la demanda de mano de obra masculina durante la Segunda Guerra Mundial.

A lo largo del siglo, la práctica de jóvenes mexicanos migrando para trabajar en los Estados Unidos se volvió cada vez más común.

Andrés Lucero posa para un retrato junto a su Volkswagen Beetle, el 21 de agosto de 2024.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

En 1980, había 39,000 personas de origen mexicano en el estado de Nueva York, y 10 años después, el censo registró un aumento anual del 8.8%. Muchos mexicanos encontraron un hogar y, junto con ello, crearon comunidades que les brindaron seguridad y pertenencia.

En 2020, Andrés entregó la presidencia del club a su hermano Eddie y pasó a gestionar una tienda de abarrotes en la Tercera Avenida, que también funciona como su estudio de tatuajes. La parte trasera del local está decorada con una Virgen de Guadalupe pintada en graffiti negro. Su hogar sigue siendo el edificio de apartamentos en el que se establecieron sus padres en los años 80.

Christian Pérez, tesorero del club, se refleja en el espejo de una motocicleta antes de un paseo a Long Island, el 25 de febrero de 2024.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Algunos de los Aztec Rebels contemplan en silencio el paisaje frente a un lago en Long Island durante un paseo.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Eddie, el presidente, es una figura imponente, con una postura casi militar, fruto de su formación en seguridad privada y su vida dentro del club. Junto con cinco oficiales a su mando, mantiene a los Aztecs en movimiento. A pesar de su seriedad, Eddie también es un hombre de familia. Es padre de gemelos adolescentes que, cuando no están jugando al fútbol con el F.C. Harlem, pasan tiempo con el club.

– “La gente siempre busca una familia, y por eso, a veces, se meten en pandillas. Nosotros queremos ser ese lugar donde los mexicanos puedan venir, estar en un ambiente seguro, sin violencia, pero con una familia”, dijo Eddie.

En casa, como parte de un tipo de entrenamiento, Eddie les cuenta a sus hijos sobre las decisiones difíciles que a veces debe tomar como presidente y les pregunta qué harían ellos. Así, les explica y les transmite el valor más importante del club: el valor de la familia. También es el más amigable del grupo cuando juega con los hijos de otros miembros. Eddie es querido y respetado por todos.

Los motociclistas cargan con muchos estigmas y estereotipos de machismo y misoginia, a veces respaldados por tradiciones arraigadas y prácticas cuestionables. Para ilustrarlo, en la mayoría de los clubes de motociclistas, las esposas y novias del grupo usan chalecos que dicen “Propiedad de X M.C”. Como presidente, Eddie rompió con esa tradición al escribir “Protegido por Aztec Rebels M.C.” en los chalecos de las mujeres.

Dentro de las reuniones de los Aztecs es necesario ver más allá de los chalecos y los estereotipos que rodean la cultura de las motocicletas. Aunque puedan parecer rudos por fuera, los hombres que forman esta comunidad son hombres de familia responsables, que también pueden ser cariñosos y gentiles con sus hijos. El club también proporciona una familia a aquellos hombres que, en algunos casos, dejaron atrás a sus familias y comenzaron una vida completamente por su cuenta en los Estados Unidos.

“Diablo“, posa para un retrato durante un paseo a Long Island.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

A sus 19 años, “Diablo” es el miembro más joven de los Aztecs. “Diablo” pidió que no utilizáramos su nombre completo debido a su estatus migratorio. La mayoría de los miembros ni siquiera saben su nombre real; lo llaman por el apodo que se ganó debido a su amor por la velocidad.

“Entré directo a la escuela secundaria y tuve muchas peleas. La gente trató de intimidarme porque no hablaba inglés, así que me defendí, y solo entonces los otros paisas me respetaron y empezaron a pasar tiempo conmigo”, recordó “Diablo”.

“Diablo” se destaca de los otros Aztecs por su figura delgada y juventud. Pero es uno más cuando se trata de peleas amistosas y la constante charla de chicos.

**”Mi madre me decía que las peleas en la secundaria no eran irrelevantes, pero significaban cuchillos y armas. Todos mis amigos iban a la misma escuela secundaria, pero yo no les dije y fui a una diferente. La mayoría de ellos ahora están en pandillas y algunos ya no están”, dijo mientras pasaba el rato al lado de un camión de comida que vende birria y tacos en una carretera de Connecticut.

Andrés Lucero, fundador y ex presidente del club, dibuja el contorno del logo del club en la pared de su primer club en Hunts Point, el 26 de mayo de 2024.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

Miembros de los Aztec Rebels juégan al billar en su recién inaugurado club.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

Christian Pérez sostiene a su bebe en la casa club recientemente inaugurada de los Aztec Rebels.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Desde su fundación, en 2016, los Rebels se han reunido en sus apartamentos, garajes y sótanos, desde Yonkers hasta Staten Island– la isla.

A medida que sus números aumentaron, los oficiales al mando empezaron a buscar lugares potenciales para alquilar, principalmente en el sur del Bronx. Visitaron más de 20 lotes que podían usar, pero siempre fueron rechazados.

Este año, finalmente encontraron un lugar en una calle remota junto al mercado de Hunts Point – marketa –, como se le conoce entre la comunidad latina, en el Bronx.

Eddie Lucero, presidente del club, posa para un retrato junto a sus gemelos, Eddie y Ethan, durante una búsqueda de huevos de Pascua en Randall’s Island, organizada para los Aztec Rebels y sus familias.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

Para celebrar su nuevo hogar, Eddie convocó a una reunión de emergencia en el nuevo lugar sin revelar la sorpresa. Todos los hombres respondieron al llamado. Llegaron pensando que su presidente estaba en peligro. Subieron las escaleras sin quitarse los cascos, listos para cualquier cosa. Y ahí estaba Eddie: “Bienvenidos a su nueva casa”.

En las siguientes semanas, remodelaron el espacio con sus propias manos. La mayoría había trabajado en construcción, por lo que no fue difícil para ellos. Añadieron una clásica mesa de billar y futbolito, y un televisor, donde vieron la final de la liga mexicana de fútbol entre el Club América y Cruz Azul.

– “Hay una manera diferente de hacer las cosas. No tienes que seguir un camino recto. Rompimos el molde siendo motociclistas mexicanos en Nueva York. Puedes ser íntegro y ser un hombre de familia. Y puedes ser más que solo un motociclista. Puedes ser un líder en tu comunidad y ayudar a todos siendo parte de algo grande,” concluyó Eddie.

Sergio Garcia y Carlos Villatoro observan el horizonte desde la azotea de la recién inaugurada sede de los Aztec Rebels en Hunts Point, Bronx.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

Los Aztec Rebels se encuentran frente a su recién inaugurado club en el vecindario de Hunts Point en el Bronx, el 26 de mayo de 2024.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Advertisement

Marcas de derrape quedan estampadas en el pavimento de un estacionamiento durante un paseo a Long Island.

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Mayolo López Gutiérrez

Mayolo López es un fotoperiodista radicado en la Ciudad de México. Puedes ver más de su trabajo en su sitio web, mayolopezgutierrez.com, o en Instagram en @fotomayo.

Edición de fotos por Virginia Lozano. Edición de texto por Estefania Mitre.