As a teenager, Preston Summers would get lost in the moment after launching his skateboard over the quarter-pipe at Charmette Bonpua Skate Plaza in the Baldwin Village neighborhood of South LA. For the split second he and his board hung suspended in the air, nothing else mattered.

Not school. Not the neighborhood gang trying to recruit him. Not the other members of the group home he rotated in and out of. The skate park is only feet away from the LA Metro Expo Line. There, amid the cacophony of train wheels screeching against tracks, Summers found peace in the rolling rumble of his skateboard.

He couldn’t know it then, but this physically demanding creative outlet would lead him to steadfast friendships, community engagement and an entrepreneurial opportunity in the shape of a pop-up juice hut.

Summers, now 21, took to skating early in his life. “I come from a skateboarding family. My brother was sponsored and everything,” he said.

Tropics co-founder Preston Summers. “When I skate, I have to eat very lightly, because if I eat too heavy, I feel sleepy and injuries happen,” Summers said. Photo credit: Jordan Winters

He moved from Palmdale to the Crenshaw area when he was nine, but Summers still felt like an outsider when he transferred from Crenshaw High to View Park Continuation High School a few years later.

Not knowing what he would find, Summers was relieved to discover a nearby place where the black wheels of his Powell Peralta brand skateboard, with black trucks and orange accents, could get a little more love — and where he could perfect his favorite trick, the ollie.

Charmette Bonpua Skate Plaza, locally referred to as “Rancho,” is tucked behind the Dorsey High School baseball diamonds as part of the Rancho Cienega Sports Complex. Besides a few illegible graffiti tags, it’s extremely clean. According to Summers, the ramps and obstacles at Rancho eclipse those at other skateparks in the city and have cultivated a fanbase.

“That park brought everyone together,” Summers said, chuckling. “First person I met was Willey Neal. I met him at the park, he was sitting down and he was like ‘Where you come from?’ and I said, ‘Palmdale,’ and he said, ‘Yeah, this is my park.’”

Neal was just poking fun, and soon his friendly face became one of half a dozen introducing themselves to Summers. The group called themselves the Rancho Locals: Jorge Robles was all about big stunts, Ryan Satram was the disciplined one, Thomas James was the guy with impeccable balance, Willford “Willey” Neal performed with a cool consistency. And then there was 6-foot-2-inch Jair McKay.

“Jair is just ‘that big dude at the park,’” Summers said.

Summers used to wake up at 6 a.m. to fit in skate sessions before school. He would bomb down the hill from his house on Washington Boulevard and Gramercy Place toward Charmette Bonpua Skate Plaza, about three miles away. In the mornings and after class, all the Rancho Locals worked up a sweat grinding on the skate park’s boxes and teaching each other to glide down worn rails. In conjunction with bonding over battle scars and skater lingo, Satram, James, Neal, McKay, and Summers all became more health conscious. They wanted better body fuel to pursue their athletic passion.

“When I skate, I have to eat very lightly, because if I eat too heavy, I feel sleepy and injuries happen,” Summers said.

Oversized bottles of Naked Juice were passed around family-style on the sun-bleached concrete of the skate park. The juice was an escape from the bulky cinnamon buns sold at school and the myriad of fast food restaurants in the surrounding area.

It was, and still is, hard to find healthy options in Baldwin Village and many other parts of South LA. The region is referred to as a food desert, a community with extremely limited healthy and affordable food options. McDonald’s outnumber grocery stores 2 to 1 in Crenshaw and Baldwin Hills.

The area has two grocery stores that serve roughly 32,000 people. That’s better odds than other neighborhoods — south of Baldwin Hills in Inglewood, there is one full-service store. Food activists in the area have complained it has high prices and low-quality produce.

For Thomas James, improving his food habits started with skateboarding but it soon became even more personal. Not long after James started eating better, his father died of a heart attack. Losing his dad convinced James to permanently commit to vegetarianism — something he’d been exploring for about a year.

“I was like what if we made our own shit. If you can put certain fruit together and you don’t need no type of sugars or sweeteners, it be the best shit.”

— Thomas James

After one skate session when the Rancho Locals were still in high school, they noticed an office barbeque happening on the other side of the metro line. Drawn by delicious smells and curiosity, the young men crossed the tracks to introduce themselves. They were graciously invited to join by a bearded Daniel Desure, owner of the Commonwealth Projects design studio.

Desure was impressed by the ragtag team of disciplined athletes and their knack for engaging people in the community. The barbeque turned into a late dinner and over time led to hanging out on the regular. Roughly a decade older than the rest of the group, Desure eventually earned the affectionate, tongue-in-cheek nickname of “Pops.”

Around the same time as meeting Desure, the squad became increasingly passionate about drinking smoothies and juices but it was an expensive habit and there were not a lot of options in the area.

“I was like ‘What if we made our own shit,’” James said. “If you can put certain fruit together and you don’t need no type of sugars or sweeteners, it be the best shit. The best, best, best.”

James didn’t just want to blend and press fruits and veggies with his buddies, he was inspired to share the liquid love with his community.

“Thomas gathered all the dudes that were loyal, all the dudes that he trusted. He brought me in like a godfather,” Summers said. “He said, ‘This is the deal: We’re trying to get this juice bar started.’ He told me I was a cool dude and he trusted me and that’s basically what he did with everybody.”

The friends decided to call the juice bar Tropics.

The name isn’t just about the fruits and flavors in their products, it is also a subtle homage to a common nickname for Baldwin Village, where most of the crew grew up — “the Jungle”.

With a plan in place, the Rancho Locals needed a way to implement it. Fortunately, older member “Pops” Desure was there to help.

Desure hooked up the entrepreneurial skaters with the Underground Museum, a nearby gallery and community space started by other friends. It proved to be a good home for the fledgling pop-up juice bar, financially assisted by an online fundraising campaign on Kickstarter. The Tropics team reached its donation goal of $60,000 a month faster than expected. They launched the pop-up shop at the beginning June of this year.

The early summer months were filled with culinary experiments. Ginger and lemon became integral to their palette. They also ventured into more daring produce.

“I never knew you could juice parsley!” James said.

Sipping juice at the Tropics pop-up was a no-nonsense experience — no fancy trimmings for their barebones, wood plank shack. Robles scoffed at the idea of decorating the place to fit the popular, modernist juice bar aesthetic. If Tropics is all about being natural, he said, why would they consider additives in their space?

That zero-additives approach applied to their prices too. Most of their 12-ounce drinks go for $3 to $4, but they’ve served some juices for as little as $2.

Through their budding business, the Rancho Locals discovered a lot about each other and themselves. Turns out Summers has a gift with a blade and a cutting board, and Neal is a talented accountant.

“People naturally just filled in roles,” Summers said. “It wasn’t stressful at all because it was keeping us busy and keeping us filled with order.”

On their way to becoming entrepreneurs and community leaders, the 20-somethings also discovered the hardships that can come with a new business.

“A lot of people doubted and said, ‘How do you know this is going to support you guys?’ or ‘How do you know this is going to actually work?’” Summers said.

“It’s not just about healthy eating — it’s about habits period. Wherever there is a food desert, we want to go there.”

— Preston Summers

The Rancho Locals believe juice is one way to better the community, but they recognize that it can be difficult for their neighbors to address slow killers like obesity when there are more immediate threats to their existence.

“There is still a lot of negativity [in the community],” Summers said. “We’re still in the streets.”

Police brutality is often in the back of the skaters’ minds. South LA has a long, infamous history of officers using excessive force against residents. Over decades, that has bred a general feeling of distrust toward LAPD in many neighborhoods, including Baldwin Village.

In 2016, 157 people died in California during run-ins with law enforcement, according to a report released this summer by the state’s Department of Justice. More than a third of those deaths happened in Los Angeles County. Among the grim roster of those killed by police last year, is Jimmy Bigges Jr. — a talented skateboarder and friend of the Rancho Locals.

For days after Bigges’ death in February 2016, Charmette Bonpua Skate Plaza was filled with candles and flowers placed there in his memory. In the wake of losing their friend, the Tropics team started developing a juice to honor him and they doubled down on their commitment to the healing powers of juice.

“It’s not just about healthy eating — it’s about habits period,” Summers said. He dreams of distributing the Tropics message beyond Baldwin Village. “Wherever there is a food desert, we want to go there,” he said.

In just the last six months since Tropics opened, the team’s efforts have garnered positive attention. Acclaimed California chef Alice Waters, a pioneer of the organic-food movement, visited the juice bar in October, and now the acai berry company Sambazon is sponsoring them.

Alas, just like fruit, even the best pop-ups have an expiration date. Tropics’ four-month stint at the Underground Museum ended in mid-October. For the Rancho Locals, the finale was bittersweet. They gave out free juices and eventually took down the hut, one wooden board at a time. Summers said jokingly that he even cried a little — on the inside.

For the next chapter of their healthy crusade, the skateboarders have their eyes on a pop-up at LA’s Museum of Contemporary Art in downtown.

They all will be juice fanatics for the rest of their lives, but selling it may not be in the cards for all the current Tropics members. Satram is an experienced welder and is well aware of the high turnover rate of nascent food businesses. The lure of a steadier, more immediately lucrative job is tempting, even as he helps his friends plan next steps for the business.

Summers is holding out hope that Tropics will soon be able to financially support the whole team. He’s keeping his eye out for a permanent location in and around their neighborhood. If that happens, they’re considering adding a veggie grill and expanding the menu.

For now, the Rancho Locals are looking forward to a break. After months of toiling in their tiny pop-up kitchen, the old friends are happy to temporarily trade in chopping ginger and pressing grapes for more time hanging out in “the jungle” where their juice bar dreams began. At least for a little while, they’ll be back to flipping, rolling and soaring at Charmette Bonpua Skate Plaza, just like they’ve been doing for more than a decade.

Stuffy from weeks of closed doors, La Michoacana Cold Delights had its front door propped open to let in the fresh breeze from outside. The owners, who were busy dusting off counters and organizing ingredients, weren’t expecting any customers. They technically hadn’t opened yet.

“Oh my gosh,” a surprised passerby said gleefully as he stooped in the door frame. “You guys opened.”

Surprised but excited, the owners eagerly heeded his request for ice cream, making the first-ever sale for the small store.

Now a little more than month in, the small family-owned business selling ice cream and Mexican popsicles, known as paletas, has attracted a variety of people looking for a respite from grocery store pints and frozen yogurt chains. The store draws in a lot of Latinos who recognize the name La Michoacana, a popular moniker for paleta shops in Mexico. People unfamiliar with the products are enticed by the vibrant colors of the diversely flavored ice creams and popsicles — many quite unusual in the United States, including cheese, jicama and rice pudding.

“I personally like the pecan,” said La Michoacana employee Sergio Guerrero, “but as you can see, I mean, there are quite a few. I wish I could try them all.”

“I personally like the pecan,” said La Michoacana employee Sergio Guerrero, “but as you can see, I mean, there are quite a few. I wish I could try them all.” Photo credit: Tatum Johnson

La Michoacana, with its inviting green and pink walls, is on the bottom floor of a small two-story brick building, squeezed between a bodega and a store selling women’s shapewear. Owner Elizabeth Bernal said she decided to open the paleta shop on South Vermont Ave. because the area has a diverse population and gets a lot of foot traffic. There are several schools nearby, including USC just a couple of blocks away.

“First of all, we can serve not only Latinos, we can do Americans too,” Bernal said. “I know all students like to be healthy, and sometimes it’s good to come in and try something sweet after lunch, after dinner or just to sit down and talk with other classmates or roommates.”

Though new to the Adams-Normandie area, the paleta shop quickly began accumulating regulars.

“One couple, when they came, they asked how many flavors I have and I said, ‘Oh, I have 75 different flavors with the natural fruits,’” Bernal said. “They said that they’re going to come in every night and they’re going to try all of them. You know what, they are three weeks coming every night.

While many customers keep coming back to try new flavors, others are getting their paletas at La Michoacana with a side of community.

“[A customer] made friends with another customer,” said Bernal’s daughter, Wendy Mencilla, a high school senior who helps around the store. “This person came in and I don’t know, they clicked or something and now they’re on first-name basis. They’re super cool with each other and it’s hilarious.”

Customers Mario Rodriguez and his wife discovered La Michoacana when passing by one day. Since then, they have visited the store several times.

“I grew up in the neighborhood,” Rodriguez said. “[It’s great] to see something abandoned for years and to finally get some type of life. I like the juice, that’s what I come for, and also the tamarindo [tamarind] and pepino [cucumber] paletas. My wife is getting my mom to come because my mom likes the milk ones.”

Water based fruit ‘paletas’ at La Michoacana. “One couple, when they came, they asked how many flavors I have and I said, ‘Oh, I have 75 different flavors with the natural fruits,’” said shop owner Bernal. “They said that they’re going to come in every night and they’re going to try all of them. You know what, they are three weeks coming every night.” Photo credit: Tatum Johnson

Over the last couple of weeks, Mencilla has been surprised by the types of flavors that have become popular.

“People love kiwi,” she said. “The kiwi has been going down. It’s really great. I thought it was going to be the generic chocolate and vanilla that was going to go down, but the chocolate was one of the least favorites.”

If a customer is looking for a flavor La Michoacana doesn’t currently offer, all it takes is one request for Bernal to add it to the list La Michoacana sends to its provider. She said her family happily adds customer requests to the menu, so long as they are healthy. Bernal is proud of the store’s emphasis on natural products.

“If it’s fruit, it’s water or it’s milk, anything that is healthy. If it is sugar, I can’t. I don’t want to give my daughters a lot of sugar or things that are unhealthy, so I don’t want to do things like that.”

— Elizabeth Bernal, shop owner

The store’s known name, La Michoacana, originated from a small town in Michoacán, Mexico, called Tocumbo where paletas were invented in the early 20th century. The paletas that Bernal sells come from Cotija, a small city neighboring Tocumbo. There, the paletas are made from scratch and prepared for delivery to the store each week.

Her popsicles have the flavor of Michoacán, Bernal said.

“Even if it is not the name outside, they know the flavor. Somebody came the first day and he asked, ‘Do you have chongos zamoranos [a flan-like dessert],’” she said. “This is from Zamora, Mexico [a city in Michoacán]. I gave it to him and he tried and he said, ‘Oh, we need something like that here from Michoacán.’”

So far, La Michoacana has added roughly 10 new flavors from customer requests, including dragon fruit and diablitos, a type of spicy tamarind candy.

Though the store highlights its paletas and ice creams, it also sells other traditional Mexican treats, including mangoneadas [spicy mango drinks], tostilocos [“crazy Tostitos,” tortilla chips and pork rinds dressed with hot sauce, cucumber, jicama and more] and fresas con crema [strawberries with cream]. Mencilla said these lesser-known products are primarily bought by Latinos who recognize the store name and know what it sells.

Bernal and family, originally from Guatemala, first found love for Mexican paletas and ice cream when Bernal worked at a store with similar offerings near LAX. The owner of that place helped her develop La Michoacana and provides Bernal with the products she sells. It took several years for her to save money and develop the business plan, but she said opening her shop was worth the work.

“I fell in love with this because it’s natural,” Bernal said. “I talked to [my boss] about the project and they agreed with me. They always support me to do a lot of crazy things, and this is one of my crazy things.”

It took roughly five months to prepare the store before it could open. Mencilla said the place was abandoned before they moved in, so it needed a lot of work. The family cleared the accumulated dust and knocked down a wall to open up space for the cash register counter. In the process, they ran into a few delays, like needing the floor fixed and the walls painted again after the first round was done incorrectly, and at one point money ran low as well, Mencilla said. Now open, with those troubles behind them, the business has done fairly well in its first few months of business.

“Better than expected honestly,” Bernal said. “I was kind of being really negative, to be honest. You know, ‘People don’t really know us,’ ‘I don’t think it’s going to be that great,’ but it was actually really great.”

La Michoacana owner Bernal is proud of the store’s emphasis on natural products. “I don’t want to give my daughters a lot of sugar or things that are unhealthy, so I don’t want to do things like that [in the store],” she said. Photo credit: Tatum Johnson

“If it’s fruit, it’s water or it’s milk, anything that is healthy. If it is sugar, I can’t. Va contra mi moral,” Bernal said: It goes against her morals. “I don’t want to give my daughters a lot of sugar or things that are unhealthy, so I don’t want to do things like that [in my store].”

Bernal makes daily sales goals to help evaluate the store’s progress.

“There were days we went above and beyond that [sales goal], and there were days where it’s slowing down a little bit because of the weather, where we’ve barely been making it,” Mencilla said.

The family recognizes that winter will bring fewer customers to the store, but has already begun to make plans for the warmer months. Right now, their biggest goal is customer satisfaction.

“I enjoy doing everything I do in my life. I’m so happy to be in this business. El éxito en la vida no es el dinero. El éxito de la vida es la satisfacción personal. El éxito de la vida es hacer las cosas feliz,” Bernal said, sharing her belief that a successful life isn’t defined by money — it’s about personal satisfaction and doing things with joy.