The Coast
It’s so easy to get lost on the coast.
But not lost, directions wise. That’s pretty easy. By the very nature of a coast, you’ve eliminated an entire point on the compass. which certainly helps. By getting lost I mean completely losing yourself to one thing or another.
In San Diego, the land of 72 degrees and sunshine and the most manufactured of problems, I saw my life in a hut by the water, picking up surfing and never ever putting it down. And it was a good life.
In Big Sur, I saw my life in the woods. In a yurt. Under a tall, tall tree, hiking through the mist. And it was a good life.
In Northern California, and Oregon, I saw myself in a fishing boat. In a knit hat. In another knit hat. So very many knit hats. And it was a good life.
I saw myself making cheese. Beer. Pulling oysters out of the sea bed. Every mile felt like another opportunity to never leave. To settle down and find happiness along the coast. And I still might. There’s still time yet, and still more coastline to cover.
Birds Eye, San Diego
Hanging in there
Walk on the Beach
There's no more west to go
A long way down
The garden of Eden
Trying to sneak one last photo
Crossing off the miles
A social gathering
Hanging in there, too
The Lagoons of Monterey, Bay
One of the hardest campgrounds to leave
The best of friends
Happy Hour, CA
DANGER