by Joe Hu
We (Brian, Mike, Otis, and me) arrived at Tunitas Beach 5 miles south of Half Moon Bay on Highway 1 sometime midday. The drive up Highway 92 made us worry a bit. It was looking like a grey day; foggy, breezy.With Half Moon Bay you never can tell with the weather. The fog has been known to roll in without notice. In high school we used to have huge parties on this beach. Sometimes it would be foggy, sometimes outright storming complete with horizontal rain. I had a feeling it wouldn't be like that today. I had a feeling it would become a perfect night for camping. We were going to play-it-by ear as usual. Besides, Half Moon Bay is only an hour from home. The car was packed with our tents, sleeping bags, beer, vodka, and food. With the hike being a mere 1/2 mile, bringing beer was more than possible; it was neccesary. Just off Highway one, after crossing a large bridge over Tunitas Creek, we parked on a dirt parking area. Several trailsheads start from the parking area each of them follow directly down to the beach. The trails inevitably end in dirt dropoffs caused by coastal erosion. With a bit of careful dirt skiing, you end up on a vast secluded private beach. Following the beach north toward Tunitas Creek eventually you come to the mouth of Tunitas Creek. Just before the creek, you'll notice copious amounts of driftwood. Perfect for an evening bonfire. Few people wander to this private beach. We had it mostly to ourselves, seeing only the occasional tourist. It was Otis' first experience with the ocean. He ran happily up and down the beach all day. He even ventured into the tides tasting salt water for the first time. He looked confused when the waves would crash in and suddenly knock him over, but he loved it. I had an opportunity to use the crappy little stunt kite I had bought. This thing really sucked. We were able to get it airborne a couple times, but because of a relatively weak wind and a very short wingspan, the kite only managed to flail about for a while before it crashed. Despite being hazy and almost overcast, it was warm on the beach. We each built sand chairs on the beach, laid down towels and/or sleeping pads and popped the cooler open. Catching rays, having a beer, reading magazines, tossing the ball for Odog,.... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! As the sun began falling lower in the sky, we started collecting wood for our bonfire. Then something happened. The low clouds that had hazied our day began to float away. Above the Pacific Ocean the clouds parted. We were in for a perfect evening. Just as the fire was lit, I opened the last of our beers. "Damn," I thought to myself. We're out of beer. Now there's just vodka left... that could get ugly. Then suddenly from down the beach, Rauser, Natty and Ferd appeared,... and they were bearing gifts. Gifts of the precious golden bubbly liquid we had just run out of. As Ferd and Rauser laid down their packs, they tossed us each a beer, and we were back in action..... aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! We lounged my the fire for the rest of the evening. The fire increased in intensity as the night progressed as did our buzzes. The pyromaniacs in all of us always makes appearances on this beach. Perhaps its the plentiful fuel source, or it's just the booze. We continued talking, drinking and fueling the fire until we faded off into the starry ocean sky, passing out into a gentle sleep. I woke up early as usual. I peaked out of the tent to see Odog rolled up into a tiny ball next to my tent,... he looked up and tried to get into the tent with me,... "sorry buddy" I said to him pushing him out. The morning haze hung low on the beach, floating in from the ocean and rolling smoothly over the cliffs and through the trees. I took advantage of the crisp morning to walk with Otis down the beach and take some photos. --->>>
|
<<<--- Ferd and Rauser woke next and we began to prepare breakfast. Brian took a bit longer to rouse. Mike never seemed to wake up at all. He eventually crawled halfway out of his sleeping bag and fell back asleep on top of it. We screwed around for a couple hours and began to pack up. After an oatmeal breakfast and some more lounging around reading magazines and recovering from mild hangovers we made our moves to get out. We hiked back to the car I ran over eager to NOT see a ticket in the window for parking overnight (its not allowed, but we figure a $30 parking ticket can be thought of as camping fees)... SURPIRSE!!! NO TICKET! WooHoo! A good way to top off an excellent overnighter.
|
