What with Covid and 2020 just generally being the year from Hell, I decided to get out of the East Bay for the weekend. Haven't been anywhere beyond about a five mile radius since the virus hit last spring and although I can be relatively happy as a homebody, I have felt at times like I was about to go crazy doing the same damned thing, day in and day out. Sometimes you just need to move your body to a different locale and it will change your mind up as well.
It was a three and a half hour drive. It didn't need to be. I was winging it. Driving west on 24, the on-ramp for SF was a parking lot, so I thought I'd head on down thru Oakland, hit the San Mateo bridge and cross over on 92. Once the freeway stopped over on the peninsula, it was another parking lot. Took a sharp left on a little country road, hit 280, missed the turnoff to 84, which would have been a nice drive, so I decided to just make a day of it. I drove on down to Santa Cruz then up the coast.
Once I turned north, Hwy 1 was a really pleasant and refreshing drive. There's just something about being out on the open road. It's such a quintessential American experience. I've driven about half the country, done several drives of about 2,000 miles each, and I always love the sense of freedom in just being out on the open road. The weather was overcast and turned to rain as I approached Half Moon Bay proper, but that's alright. I'm from Seattle.
Holed up for the night, spent the morning strolling on Main St. in HMB, people watching with a nice cup of coffee. Rather than drive anymore, I simply walked down to the beach and then headed north. Despite the intermittent crowds, it was such a lovely and mostly private experience. Just me and the sea. The wind and the water. That sea air blowing out all the stultified and toxic energy that had built up over the spring and summer, releasing it into the crashing surf, making room for something new to come in. Barefootin' it.
Along the way, I saw a very determined little red spider, inexplicably heading down the slope towards the water, which duly engulfed him and swept him away. I googled little red sea spiders and by golly, there really is such a thing. No wonder he seemed so determined! It wasn't just inadvertent self-destruction, like with human beings.
A little farther along, I looked down and noticed two honey bees wrestling viscerally in the heel of somebody's footprint. At first they seemed at war, but on closer inspection, it seemed that one bee was incapacitated and the second was trying its level best to help in some undefined way that involved alot of hustle and bustle and climbing all over the one that couldn't seem to right itself.
Lots of kids in the water, or going one-on-one with the ocean, running down to the edge of the surf, then back up the beach as the water raced in. A few kites, including one massive black orca which occasionally dove straight down into the sand and could easily have swallowed me in one gulp.
I loved the diversity of the crowd on the beach. Just about every ethnicity known to man was in evidence. To me, that's what this country is really all about, is its secret strength. More on that in a later post.
Heading north, I was walking into the wind. After about an hour and a half, I decided to turn around and was shocked at what a different experience it was. The way the sun was positioned in the sky, I had my back to it as I was heading north. Once I turned south, the sun shone down upon me, glistening on the water and showing in clear relief every stone and shell on the sand. The wind was at my back. It was an Irish blessing enacted.
A short stop to eat a sandwich up by the bluff, clambering up and out of sight to take a pee, then resumed my southward journey. Incredulously watched as a seal shuffled its body out of the surf and up onto the sand, where it plopped down for a rest and maybe a hoped-for snooze. It was not to be, though, as people immediately approached within a few feet of it, and the seal (or sea lion) wisely returned, just as immediately, to the sea.
A good three and a half hour stretch of the legs, to even out the three and a half hours spent behind the wheel of my truck yesterday. Tomorrow, another morning walk further south along the bluff above the beach, perhaps a return along the water, a quick cup of joe, and the drive home. A little sun-burnt, a little wind-burnt, but ultimately, quite refreshed.
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