I ran the San Diego Rock ‘n’ Roll half marathon (my first ever!) last June. I ran a 10K on the 4th of July with 17 family members. I ran 2 turkey trots on Thanksgiving morning. I ran the Carlsbad half marathon one month ago. And yesterday, I ran the San Diego Women’s half marathon. There is nothing like getting up at 4:30, putting on some spandex gear, waiting in uber-long lines to use a port-a-potty, crowding into corrals with a crew of pink-clad-women and then running for 13.1 miles. Don’t forget the .1, that part is killer. Here’s a mile by mile recap:
San Diego Women’s half marathon
Mile 1: Stoked and running fast, loving the crowd’s energy.
Mile 2: Shelter Island? What is this place? Never been here before (seriously).
Mile 3: Still good, the sun is rising and the bay is glistening.
Mile 4: The 2 hour pace group is sooooo close.
Mile 5: I caught them.
Mile 6: Yup, I just saw a blind woman, running the race. I can do this.
Mile 7: Terminal 2 is in sight. I wonder how that construction is going.
Mile 8: I lost them.
Mile 9: Breathe. Breathe again.
Mile 10: My legs are on FIRE.
Mile 11: The high school cheerleaders told me they are sooooo proud of me. I also high-fived a guy in pink bike shorts.
Mile 12: Only 10 more minutes of torture.
Mile 13: Just keep moving, Just keep moving…
FINISH LINE! Victory. The endorphins are soaring and San Diego, our fine city, finally has me hooked.
You should get hooked too. Run a race(or at least around the block). This year’s San Diego Rock ‘n’ Roll marathon and half are sporting new and improved courses. The half is more decline than incline. The marathoners don’t have to mingle with the halfers. The half goes right by my casa. And everyone finishes at Petco Park. We all win. If a race doesn’t suit you, there are hundreds of other ways to get outside.
This morning, my butt was out of bed pre-dawn, again. This time to scout a trail for the San Diego Magazine April cover shoot. All week we’ll be photographing San Diego’s most picturesque spots to enjoy the outdoors. See our 28 fave trails from last year here and check newsstands in April for even more ideas.
Consider this your annual reminder that Mother’s Day is not the time to improvise. What’s in: roses, peonies, and a card attempting to summarize a year’s worth of gratitude in three paragraphs or less. What’s out: pretending you “didn’t know it was this weekend.” In a city currently operating at full brunch capacity, San Diego responds as it always does—oceanfront tables, excessive buffet spreads, and sparkling wine refills. Whether it’s waffle stacks, chilled seafood displays, or carving stations doing the most, these San Diego restaurants have you covered.
All moms deserve elegance on Mother’s Day. Celebrate a beachfront with a beautifully timeless and tasteful brunch at the Crown Room in Hotel del Coronado. Indulge in options like lemon vanilla pancakes with berry compote paired with crispy bacon, made-to-order omelets or your very own egg benedict station, shucked oysters, whole in-house smoked brisket, Peach Melba Verrine, and more. Guests over 21 can enjoy a complimentary glass of Champagne.
Price: $235 per adult | $125 per child (6 – 10) | Ages 5 and under are free Hours: 10 a.m. – 3 p.m. Address: 1500 Orange Ave, Coronado Reservations: Hotel del Coronado
Oceana Coastal Kitchen
Mimosas, marina views, and a Mother’s Day where the only thing on the agenda is enjoying it? We’ll cheers to that. Located at the Catamaran Resort, this Mother’s Day brunch literally has it all, from sushi rolls and nigiri to a charcuterie spread stacked with salumi, prosciutto, cornichons, pepperoncini, cherry peppers, and grainy mustard, plus waffle and omelet stations, cedar-planked salmon, and panko and herb-crusted mac and cheese. Kids can also create a bouquet for Mom that’s just chaotic enough to be adorable.
Price: $120+ per adult | $60+ per child (5 – 12) | Ages 4 and under are free Hours: 10 a.m. – 4 p.m. (last seating at 2 p.m.) Address: 3999 Mission Boulevard, San Diego Reservations: Oceana Coastal Kitchen
Mother’s Day at Arlo transforms into an enchanted garden that’s equal parts lush and indulgent: a raw bar, fresh salads, delicate pastries, 12-hour braised short ribs, roasted prime rib, and Szechuan pepper–crusted swordfish from the Santa Maria grill. Spoil moms, grandmas, aunts, and every beloved mother figure with live music, a roaming mimosa cart, floral bouquets, and of course, a little retail therapy courtesy of the Kendra Scott trunk show—necklaces, bracelets, earrings, or, let’s be real, all of the above.
Price: $99 per adult | $40 per child (5 – 12) | Ages 4 and under are free Hours: 9 a.m. – 3 p.m. Address: 500 Hotel Circle N, San Diego Reservations: OpenTable
Rumorosa
Forget the CVS roses (respectfully). Rumorosa’s Mother’s Day brunch is back for its third year, pairing complimentary flowers with sun-drenched marina views. It’s coastal-modern meets Baja soul, where the food is bright and very much not an afterthought. Last year’s spread leans into Carrot Cake Waffles, a made-to-order omelet station, Café de la Olla French Toast, Roasted Lamb Tostadas, and other “yes, I’ll have everything” moments.
Price: $90 per adult | $40 per child (5 – 12) Hours: 9 a.m. – 2 p.m. Address: 1380 Harbor Island Drive, San Diego Reservations: OpenTable
Tidal
A boozy brunch overlooking Mission Bay with Mom? Say less. Celebrated at Tidal with a lavish spread of cheeses and charcuterie, a seafood bar stacked with oysters, shrimp, crab legs, and ahi specialties, and chef-attended carving stations with slow-roasted prime rib. Made-to-order omelets and pancakes, maple-glazed pork belly, roasted Baja grouper, vibrant seasonal salads, and brunch classics round it out, finishing with an abundant mini dessert selection.
Price: $125 per adult | $50 per child (5–12) | Ages 5 and under are free Hours: 11 a.m. – 3 p.m. Address: 1404 West Vacation Road, San Diego Reservations: OpenTable
Animae
Mother’s Day at Animae is anything but expected. Tucked into the Marina District, this world-class steakhouse leans West Coast with a playful Asian twist. This year, treat Mom to a dim sum–style experience: a slightly more elevated, endlessly flowing take on the buffet, where indulgent small plates arrive tableside, perfectly complementing the Art Deco interiors and designed to be picked at, shared, and fully obsessed over. It’s less set menu, more choose-your-own flavor adventure.
Price: $104 per person Hours: 10 a.m. – 2 p.m. Address: 969 Pacific Hwy, San Diego Reservations: OpenTable
Isabella Dallas is a freelance writer for San Diego Magazine and the Arts and Culture Editor at The Daily Aztec in her final year at San Diego State University. She previously worked as an editorial intern for SDM, but when she’s not writing, you can find her trying the best coffee spots in SD, devouring the latest rom-coms, and indulging in anything and everything pop culture.
Tacos are San Diego’s lingua franca. The invention of food wrapped in corn tortillas is ballparked at 1000 to 500 BC. The word probably comes from the Nahuatl “tlahco”—meaning “half” or “in the middle”—a food meant to be folded and carried. Portable foods always have a way of sticking around.
San Diego was part of Mexico until the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo in 1848, so tacos didn’t arrive; they remained. After the treaty, they receded into the kitchens of families who stayed behind.
By the early 1900s, US tacos had reached a sad state—mostly ground beef, cheddar cheese, and iceberg lettuce, because Mexican staples like cotija, cilantro, chiles, and freshly pressed tortillas weren’t in grocery stores. In San Diego, that started to change around 1930 in the abode of Petra and Natividad Estudillo, who lived on Logan Avenue in Barrio Logan, the heart of San Diego’s Chicano culture (it’s where many refugees from the Mexican Revolution settled). There, the couple created a teeny tienda, slinging homemade tortillas.
Behind the Estudillos’ counter, reportedly, you could see their living room, lined with furniture and tubs of fresh tortillas. You could tell sales (and tacos) were on the rise, because their décor got increasingly nicer. The couple opened Las Cuatro Milpas next door in 1933. It was the first Mexican restaurant in the city, a taco chapel for over 90 years. Around the same era, Ralph Pesquiera Sr. started pressing tortillas with his parents on India and Grape streets, later serving smaller, corn tortilla versions of flautas for defense workers during WWII. Credited with coining the term “taquito,” he opened El Indio in 1940.
The Bracero Program (1942–64) greatly contributed to taco culture, bringing over four million Mexican men to the US as guest workers, many in San Diego. The kitchens at bracero camps were filled with beans, tortillas, and chiles. The art of making fresh masa started to proliferate, and local grocery stores stocked dried chiles, salsas, and masa harina for their new client base.
San Diego’s taco culture quantum-leapt in 1964, when Roberto and Dolores Robledo, who’d previously owned a Golden Hill restaurant called La Lomita, opened a tortilla factory in San Ysidro. They quickly added a walk-up and drive-through window and called it Roberto’s—the city’s first “modern” taco shop and eventual legend. Two years earlier, up the road in Downey, Glen Bell had launched Taco Bell; by the time he sold it to PepsiCo in 1978, every American grocery store was selling “taco kits” with pre-fried shells, seasoning packets, and jars of salsa. Taco night became a middle-class ritual.
Surfers also deserve a taco nod. In 1983, SDSU student Ralph Rubio finally made good on the recipe gifted to him by a taquero on a San Felipe beach; he opened Rubio’s on Mission Bay Drive, launching the Baja fish taco into the national imagination (Rubio’s IPO hit NASDAQ in 1999).
Two government policies also helped further taco enlightenment. In 1986, the Immigration Reform and Control Act (IRCA) legalized about 2.7 million immigrants, many in SoCal. Green cards and work permits meant access to leases, loans, and licenses. With that stability came confidence—and a wave of Mexican-owned small businesses. The late 1980s and ’90s saw the rise of family-run icons like Lolita’s, Rigoberto’s, and Cotixan. It’s no coincidence that two of San Diego’s proudest food inventions—the California burrito and carne asada fries (often credited to Lolita’s circa the late ’90s)—came onto the scene during this period.
This last point is an unsubstantiated connecting of dots. But Mexico’s a large country full of endless regional taco ideas (Oaxacan cheese, Sinaloan seafood, Texcoco barbacoa). And the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), signed in 1992, was probably what sprung that deep well of taco ideas. Corporations opened massive operations in border cities like Tijuana, drawing thousands of workers and tacos from every nook.
Which brings us to now. There are 1,700-ish taco shops across the county, and here’s the list of our favorites.
Courtesy of Tacotarian
San Diego’s Best Tacos
Gobernador Taco at Mariscos Mi Gusto Es
Chollas Creek
Located in the massive parking lot by an event center and a cannabis dispensary, Mi Gusto Es may just set the bar for the best gobernador (a Sinaloan-style shrimp taco with melted cheese and a flour tortilla—a wonderful thing). Loaded with sautéed peppers, it costs three bucks. Get the spicy shrimp. Always spicy.
Troy Johnson is the magazine’s award-winning food writer and humorist, and a long-standing expert on Food Network. His work has been featured on NatGeo, Travel Channel, NPR, and in Food Matters, a textbook of the best American food writing.
Let’s say you’re a runner who wants to get quicker. One of the best ways to do that is by intervals on a running track. By running at a faster speed over a precise, measurable shorter distance (say 200 or 400 meters), taking a jog break, and then running another swift interval, you’ll slowly get your body used to running at an accelerated pace.
But a San Diego runner looking for a place to practice on a track is going to have a very hard time finding many options. Most college and high school tracks are closed to the public. And, unlike in other cities, there are no public tracks.
It wasn’t always this way, though.
Courtesy of San Diego Track Club
Ashley Harbecke, who used to help plan workouts for the San Diego Track Club, says the running group met for years on Tuesday nights at 6 p.m. at Balboa Stadium to utilize the track. But San Diego High School also uses that track, and when state legislation in 2019 changed high school start and end times to later in the day, after-school sports were also pushed back. The track club could no longer gather at 6 p.m.
“After that, the whole school district decided we have to rent out facilities. We used to be able to say, ‘Can we use this track?’” Harbecke recalls. “Then, they got very strict, where every single person has to rent out a facility. Every single school started doing that. Everything is now very by the books, whereas we used to be able to informally arrange using a track.”
The club started exercising on a quarter-mile stretch in Liberty Station. After Covid waned, the group began paying to use the track at University City High School, but the price was steep (tracks rent for about $200 an hour using the website Facilitron). Recently, the club has utilized the track at San Diego State University. Joiner types determined to get access to a track can become a member of San Diego Track Club and run with them on Tuesday nights.
But if you want to run on your own, options are limited. Schools like San Diego State, Point Loma Nazarene University, and San Diego Mesa College don’t allow the public to run on their tracks. However, Grossmont College’s track is open to the public, and UC San Diego’s track welcomes anyone in the community who has an active Recreation Membership. Costing $55 a month for people not affiliated with the university, the membership includes access to all of the school’s indoor and outdoor facilities.
Courtesy of UC San Diego Athletics
“The track is open seven days a week during daylight hours and when not in use by campus teams,” says Recreation Experience Coordinator Isaac Brandl.
But figuring out when it’s not occupied by a school team, and therefore available to a recreational runner, is tricky.
“We don’t post the hours as our NCAA and Club Sports teams have priority use and don’t have to reserve it,” Brandl says. “They’re out there at all kinds of hours, which makes it difficult to keep up with posting an accurate schedule. Only the track is open; all the field apparatus are locked up and unavailable for use.”
Of course, an individual runner could use the Facilitron website and pay hefty fees to run on a school track, says city spokesperson Tim Graham.
“San Diego Unified School District tells me [that], in theory, an individual could rent out a space but would need to provide a proof of insurance requirement, so it sounds like it’s not really something that is encouraged or happens regularly,” he explains.
Samer Naji, the facilities communication supervisor for San Diego Unified School District, says the school district has a joint-use program with the city of San Diego that converts school playfields into neighborhood parks whenever schools are not in session. That means they’re open to the public before and after school and on weekends for free.
According to Naji, there are 91 joint-use facilities totaling 340 acres, and 10 additional new facilities are under construction and 16 more are planned. He adds that you can permit a joint-use field during public use hours through the city’s Parks and Recreation Department.
Courtesy of Zagrodnik + Thomas Architects
The problem is that hardly any of the schools that are part of the joint-use program have official 400-meter tracks. The city’s website lists just one: Mission Bay High School. Its track is open to the public before 8:15 a.m. and after 4 p.m. Monday through Friday, with longer hours on the weekends.
If Mission Bay High School doesn’t work for you, there are a few other possibilities: You can run on a dirt track that’s not exactly 400 meters at many of the middle schools with joint-use agreements, including Marston, Pacific High, or Farb, or work out on the even smaller dirt tracks at your local elementary school.
You can also go to Fiesta Island in Mission Bay—or anywhere along the Mission Bay path—and use a GPS watch to measure out 400 meters and run repeats. Other decent locations are Liberty Station, the Ocean Beach Bike Path, or your local park. Still, Harbecke says she wishes there were more options.
“A lot of people would like to have tracks,” she adds. “Other cities definitely allow it.”
Claire Trageser has been writing for San Diego Magazine for 10 years. She also is a reporter at KPBS and writes for The New York Times, National Geographic, Marie Claire, Elle and Runner's World.
Implementing a farm-to-table model hardly deserves acknowledgement these days. It’s not a stretch. It’s not innovative. “It’s the bare f**king minimum,” says Herb & Sea‘s executive chef Aidan Owens.
When I arrive at the Encinitas restaurant, I’m ready to talk sustainability, farm-to-table stuff, with Owens. “Did you see the chin on that?” he says of the extra big jiggly chin on the sheephead that just arrived with the day’s fresh catch. I did. It was Jay Leno adjacent.
I learn quickly that he somehow oozes both charm and stone-cold honesty. Maybe he could construct a new dish with chin goo, like he did when he had a bunch of tuna scraps and voila’d it into a smooth and crowd-pleasing ‘nduja. “I want to know what’s in there,” he says.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
The instinct to look closer, to dig into what others might discard, says a lot about the chef’s approach. I guide him back to our topic, but he has something else on his mind. “We’re overcomplicating food—what happened to just cooking good food and having fun with it?”
Owens grew up on a farm in Byron Bay, Australia, where sustainability wasn’t a concept you chat about so much as a way of life. Think dirt roads, backyard chickens, pulling vegetables straight from the ground, and a mother who believed that if you couldn’t pronounce the ingredients on a package, you shouldn’t eat what was inside.
Food wasn’t precious or performative. Making it was what you did because you were hungry and that’s still what inspires Owens today. “I like to cook good food because I like to eat good food,” he says.
His approach to sustainability at Herb & Sea began so naturally that it felt just like instinct. “I was just like, ‘Let’s order food from the people who live and work here,’” he says.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
And why wouldn’t he when lives in San Diego? Cities all over the world vie for our goods. Our tuna is sent overseas. Our spiny lobsters hit dinner plates in China and Japan. Not to mention California’s producing a third of the country’s vegetables and three-quarters of its fruits and nuts.
“Why would we outsource when it’s all here?” Owens asks.
Sustainability, in this context, is about cooking what exists in abundance, nearby, right now. “I love the local fish here. It’s f**king delicious and San Diego citrus, I mean, it is so f**ing good,” he says.
Instead of importing ingredients, Owens also looks for nearby alternatives. “You can find really cool things in the local waters,” he says, pointing out that stingray cheeks taste similar to scallops.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
Whatever he finds in that sheephead chin might just be the next substitute for marrow. But to make this work, it means getting diners amped up about the slightly unfamiliar.
Tasting menus, where diners are completely in his hands, become an opportunity to gently push boundaries. “I’ll serve mackerel, because people think they hate it,” Owens says, noting that the abundant local fish can have some fishiness. “But when it’s fresh, it’s arguably one of the best fish in the ocean.”
He also tweaks the language on the menu so people might feel more compelled to give dishes a try without preconceived notions. He might use “lengua” instead of “tongue.” “Whelk” instead of “snail.” When he puts “stingray throat” on the menu, he disarmingly calls it “skate.”
To reduce waste, scraps aren’t always discarded but rather turned into something new. Sometimes they’re smoked, cured or fermented. Apples going bad turn into apple ponzu. Lemons turn to marmalade, which stretches their usefulness far beyond peak season. “And it’s super tasty on our pizza,” he says.
What makes the food even richer, is the relationships he’s built with farmers. Though it didn’t always feel natural, Owens sought personal connection first. He recalls approaching a fisherman at the Tuna Harbor Dockside Market. “I was awkward,” he says. “I went up to him and said, ‘I like your fish.’”
Owen’s is now so close to his suppliers—like fishermen Ryan Sebo and Joe Daly—that he gets texted pictures of fresh catches right as they flop on the boat. The messages always ask if he wants first dibs. “I say yes to a lot of fish,” Owens says, noting that Herb & Sea can go through 2,000 pounds of seafood a week.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
The next evolution of sustainability, in his view, will be chefs working directly with producers such as his alliance with Sebo, cutting out middlemen and purveyors where possible. “It will put more money in the pockets of the people doing the work,” he says.
It will mean that chefs can’t just know their local farmers and producers, but they’ll choose to work with the ones who have the best practices. Dining and sustainability will become much less about the final plate. “It will be more about the impact that plate has on the Earth,” he says.
Ultimately, he believes sustainability doesn’t need to be loud. It doesn’t need hashtags. It just needs to be honest.
“We aren’t saving lives. We’re feeding people good food,” he says.
And yet, in feeding people well—simply, thoughtfully, responsibly—something meaningful happens. Guests leave satisfied. Ingredients are respected. Local ecosystems are supported and food returns to what it has always been at its core: nourishment, pleasure, and a quiet reflection of the place it comes from.
From the Marine Room, I paddle through the surf break, trying not to get knocked into the water. Once through, I stand on my stand-up paddleboard (SUP), navigating the next set of challenges: avoiding the groups of snorkelers directly in front of me, and then the flotilla of kayakers working their way from La Jolla Shores in the direction of the sea caves—each of us connecting with the ocean in our own way.
At a little over one square mile in size and reaching offshore depths of some 330 feet, the area between the shores and La Jolla Cove is technically a marine protected area called the Matlahuayl State Marine Reserve. Under the surface of the water, you might spot sea lions and seals, leopard sharks, garibaldi and other fishes, various kinds of rays, lobsters, and possibly even moray eels. Above water, winged creatures like brown pelicans and egrets dart through the skies. One of the joys of snorkeling here is when you spot a Brandt’s cormorant “flying” underwater, fishing for a meal.
Photo Credit: James Murren
Past most of the snorkelers and in front of the flotilla, I turn south and head over to where the water is more open and less hectic. After 10 minutes or so, with the leash wrapped around my ankle, I squat down and straddle my SUP. Then, I secure my paddle through the accompanying loops on the side of the board. Strapped under the SUP’s bungee webbing are my snorkel, mask, and fins. I put them on and drop into the water.
The visibility is okay, about 15 feet or so. Immediately, I see the territorial garibaldis protecting their watery turf. Juvenile ones, identifiable by the iridescent blue-purple spots on their backs, swim by. Snorkeling in the direction of the undulating grasses, I pass over a patch of sand. Down there, round stingrays hover. No bigger than a small dinner plate, they are in their element, fluttering with ease.
Photo Credit: James Murren
Above the grasses, I hover, emulating the rays. It is one of my favorite things to do while snorkeling: I simply float, using my fins only to maintain my position and avoid being pushed into the rocky underwater cliffs. As the waves roll in and back out, the green grasses shimmer in the sunlight, dancing to and fro.
Amidst it all, my body sways with the grasses, recalibrating my being for the days ahead.
Courtesy of Visit California
Tips for Stand-Up Paddleboarding in La Jolla
La Jolla Shores and La Jolla Cove are very busy and crowded areas. Be mindful of those around you while SUPing. Your board can cause injury to others in the blink of an eye. Be very aware that open ocean swimmers and sometimes scuba divers are out there as well.
You cannot SUP in the La Jolla Cove zone. Lifeguards will get on the intercom and ask you to leave the cove. As a rule, I suggest staying around the sea caves—if you’re going to pass them, go north, not toward the beach-goers in the shore break zone.
You can rent SUPs in the village area at La Jolla Shores. Be sure to have a waterproof bag—also called a dry bag—for your phone and other valuables.
Do not forget to wear sunscreen, a hat, sunglasses, and perhaps a long-sleeved sun shirt with a hood. You get burned more quickly out on the water.
James Murren is an award-winning adventure/travel writer, with nearly three decades of independent journalism experience. He's often having a good time in our local mountains, deserts and waters, when he's not teaching classes at SDSU.
Despite ancient lore that hints at people adding wheels to wooden boards since the 1920s, influential skate photographers and skateboarding legends concur that the global-sensation sport had humble beginnings in La Jolla in 1947, when a couple of teens stuck their sister’s roller skate wheels on a two-by-four. Since the early days of reckless street skating sans helmets, culture-defining skateboarders have essentially handcrafted San Diego into a world-renowned destination for the sport.
Sprinkled around San Diego are dozens of parks designed with help from professional boarders who began their careers right here in SD, including Tony Hawk, Andy Macdonald, and Chris Miller. Young prodigies, seasoned pros, and average joes alike: San Diego is your place to scope out bowls, ramps, pump tracks, and so much more. Here are 14 of the best skateparks in San Diego.
Photo Credit: J. Grant Brittain
Washington Street Skatepark
Using industrial concrete beneath the Pacific Coast Highway as a blueprint, local skaters launched this underground skatepark in 1999 as a free place to ride without the threat of fines. In the years since, Washington Street has become a vibrant, community-supported attraction for the more advanced skateboarders of SoCal.
Address: Pacific Highway and West Washington Street, Middletown
Hours: 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Price: Free, but only for advanced skaters
Courtesy of Robb Field Park
Robb Field Skatepark
Overlooking Mission Bay, just across the San Diego River, sits the Rob Field Skatepark, fully equipped with bowls, rails, and ledges for skaters of any skill level to master their tricks while catching a sick view.
Address: 2525 Bacon Street, Ocean Beach
Hours: 10 a.m. to dusk
Price: Free
Courtesy of YMCA of San Diego County
Krause Family Skate & Bike Park
This massive facility is every aspiring X Gamer’s dream park (while keeping mom and dad’s peace-of-mind at the forefront). Events like birthday parties, private and group lessons, and parents’ night outs with reliable supervision for little shredders well overshadow the small fee it costs to ride here.
Address: 3401 Clairemont Drive, Mission Valley
Hours: 2 to 7 p.m. on weekdays, 11 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. on weekends; sessions are 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. and 2 p.m. to 5 p.m.
Price: Year membership: $30 / Without membership: $10 per session / With membership: $5 per session / Month pass: $40 (free sessions)
Courtesy of Yelp
Bill and Maxine Wilson Skate Park
New to the skating world and terrified of wiping out in view of the experts? No worries—do it in front of the newbies at the Bill and Maxine Wilson beginner’s bowl, sans embarrassment. Advance from there and take a shot at the 10-foot “keyhole” or a 90-foot-long “snake run.”
Address: 702 South 30th Street, Logan Heights
Hours: 10 a.m. to dusk
Price: Free
Courtesy of Spohn Ranch
Del Mar Pump Track
Pump yourself up to take on the Del Mar Pump Track, one of the best skateparks in San Diego, and an undulating path full of small, looped sequences of rollers and swoopy, banked turns designed for riders to flow freely in circles without the need to push.
Address: 5977 Village Center Loop Road, Del Mar
Hours: 8 a.m. to sunset
Price: Free
Courtesy of the City of Poway
Poway Skate Park
Known as a hidden gem for its lack of crowds and chill vibe, Poway Skate Park is beautifully suited for beginners and intermediate skaters alike. As a bonus, it’s open 12 hours a day, so you can work on your heelflip well into the evening.
Address: 13090 Civic Center Drive, Poway
Hours: 8 a.m. to 8 p.m., closed Wednesdays
Price: Free
Courtesy of Visit Carlsbad
Alga Norte Carlsbad State Park
Expectations were understandably high for a skatepark in Tony Hawk’s hometown. Luckily, designers understood the assignment: The large facility is one of the best skateparks in San Diego and is free of fees and full of diverse features, including a steep ramp where more advanced skaters can flex their skills.
Address: 6565 Alicante Road, Carlsbad
Hours: 10 a.m. to 10 p.m.
Price: Free
Courtesy of West Coast Skateparks
Rancho Penasquitos Skate Park
Rancho Penasquitos Skate Park is a 22,000-square-foot, multi-level skate plaza offering handrails, bank ramps, boxes, ledges, pipes, and a wealth of other elements—including picnic tables where parents can hang while their little ones work on their kickturn.
This Linda Vista park satisfies skaters of all skill levels while taking advantage of the natural landscape. The focal point of the area is a pedestrian viewing bridge, hovering over the middle of the park for 360 views of all the action.
Maren Hawkins is a freelance writer in her last year at San Diego State University. When she is not writing, she spends her time playing beach volleyball, thrifting for the cutest clothes, and traveling whenever possible.
Torch Heroes: Why San Diego’s Most Trusted Businesses Win by Doing the Right Thing
In a world overflowing with shortcuts, marketing fluff, and “good enough,” there are still companies that choose a different answer. And in San Diego, there are plenty of them.
In a world overflowing with shortcuts, marketing fluff, and “good enough,” there are still companies that choose a different answer.
Integrity guides how they show up every day. They make hard decisions, hold themselves accountable, and build trust the old-fashioned way, one action at a time. At the Better Business Bureau, we call these businesses Torch Heroes: leaders who demonstrate that ethical leadership strengthens businesses and drives long-term success.
And in San Diego, there are plenty of them.
Take House Collective Marketing Solutions, a Carlsbad-based digital agency that won the 2025 Torch Award for Ethics for its people-first approach to marketing. Instead of pushing flashy campaigns, the team often takes a step back to make sure clients’ foundations are strong before going big. Their philosophy? Truth over transaction builds partnerships that last.
Or look at Young Black & N’ Business, where integrity shows up through community action. When a local school lost art funding, founder Roosevelt Williams III and his team stepped in with workshops, mentorship, and hands-on support to help restore creative opportunity. That kind of engagement reflects ethical leadership rooted in real impact.
And in Vista, Lotus Sustainables carried its commitment to ethics all the way to the product line. After discovering defects in a shipment of eco-friendly products, the company issued full refunds and redesigned its offerings at its own expense, a choice that shaped its identity and reinforced to customers that ethics guide every decision.
In North County, Greenway Landscape Design & Build brings integrity into everyday service. When a client’s glass was damaged, likely not by their crew, owner Scott Lawn chose responsibility over blame and covered the repair personally. For Greenway, doing the right thing serves as a north star, guiding every interaction through transparent pricing, accountable partnerships, proactive communication, and follow-through long after the job is done.
Other honorees include At Your Home Familycare, whose leadership turned down a lucrative state contract during the pandemic to protect vulnerable clients and staff, and Bill Howe Family of Companies, where hiring practices, training, and service centers around shared values, every day, on every call.
What connects these diverse businesses, from marketing to nonprofit support to home services, isn’t size, industry, or revenue. It’s something deeper: a commitment to trust as a business strategy.
In San Diego’s competitive marketplace, that trust gives companies an edge. Clients invest in relationships. They refer friends. They stay loyal when others fade.
As one Torch Award winner puts it, integrity isn’t a section in the employee handbook. It’s the operating system of the company, the invisible code that determines every choice, every day.
And that’s exactly the point of the BBB Torch Awards for Ethics: to spotlight companies that dispel the myth that ethics and success are at odds. These businesses show that when leaders choose honesty, fairness, and accountability, especially when it’s hard, they build brands that matter.
At BBB, we see nominations come in from clients, employees, and business partners who have witnessed ethical leadership up close. These submissions aren’t polished promotions. They’re stories of moments when a company chose people over profit, clarity over confusion, and trust over convenience.
The nomination window for the 2026 Torch Awards for Ethics is open through March 31, 2026, and there are more Torch Heroes waiting to be recognized.
Who comes to mind in San Diego’s business community?
A vendor who always delivers — and always explains why.
A competitor who chooses the high road even when shortcuts tempt.
A team within your own company whose day-in, day-out choices reflect deep character.
And yes, businesses can nominate themselves. We encourage it. If you’ve built your business on principles rather than buzzwords, we want to hear your story.
Because in a world full of noise, integrity still deserves the spotlight, and San Diego is full of stories worth telling. Nominate your hero now.
