Surf Life

At this point I am racing through the trip to make it back to Atlanta in time. I have no time to visit any gyms and train. I have decided to break up the country into regions and do this all over again. I bit off far more than I can chew but it has made for one epic trip.

Left just before the dreaded LA traffic and fallowed HWY 1 down the coast as far as I could go towards San Diego. Passed up Huntington Beach around 6 am and the water was filled with thousands of surfers catching waves. The majority of the real-estate along the beach was multifamily and it seemed like everyone from the buildings had come out to surf that morning. That was probably the reason why they chose that location to live. The surf was awesome! 5’-7’ waves would roll in one after another. The beach was one continuous park that was kept very clean the green grass and the palm trees made it look like an oasis. Passed up a volleyball court area with what looked like 20 courts, all of which where abandoned and the waves that morning were far more important.

I quickly made my way into Laguna Beach and loved the small town feel of the city. The crowd was definitely older than Huntington Beach but the quaintness of it made me want to try living here as well sometime in the future. You could also tell the atmosphere of the city by how many squad cars I passed by on the way through. Law and order strictly enforced to make sure these old-timers don’t have their feathers ruffled.

After Laguna Beach it was a straight shot to San Diego down the I-5. I had a high school friend, Mica, living in pacific beach that I was en route to. She had been one of the people that planted the seed to make this trip possible. Out of high school she had disappeared into the world to ramble. She ended up backpacking through South America and lived in Australia for a bit. Her travels had taken the last bit of uncertainty out of the equation and I was convinced it was possible and more than that it was necessary. We went to a park for a quick workout to start the day and after that she took around “PB” and she introduced me to some of her friends. Every house we went to looked like a surfers tree house. The atmosphere very laid back and emphasizing the simple things in life. Surfboards hung in fishnets on the ceilings and the walls were lined with beach life art. Everyone wore smiles and had a welcoming spirit. Even with the weather relatively bad everyone was upbeat and out enjoying life. Bad weather was overcast and mid 70’s which I though was amazing! The conversations started easy and ended with promises of continuing them in the next encounter. I could not get enough. This atmosphere is so alien to me. I am always going 100 mph and doing several things at a time and load myself up with tasks and chores till the minute I drop my face into my pillow. It seemed like all there was here was free and spare time.

After several introductions to places and friends of Mica’s we jumped on Cindy and headed out to meet the mother of a good friend of mine from Atlanta. The further we got from the beach the warmer it got. By the time we were on the hilltops looking down towards the coast you could see the haze that gripped the coastline and dropped the temperatures a bit. Shehnaz greeted us for the first time excitingly and rushed us in through her gate to show us her humble abode. The house was well maintained and surrounded by nothing short of the Garden of Eden. Wherever there had been soil it was occupied by some exotic plant, flower, or fruit tree. The little trail winded around the side of the house and with each step the aromas changed depending on the plant directly next to you. The path was short but saturated with color. magic, and peace. I have a deep appreciation for people with green thumbs and even more appreciation for this woman who was the mother of a one of a kind friend of mine. I could see where my friend got her spirit. Small of stature but a giant spirit, I could tell the woman had a huge heart and a backhand that would plant you on your ass and a tongue that would scold and get you back in line if you ever crossed her path in a wrong way. She had whit and her stories kept me at the edge of my seat at full attention to make sure she would not stop telling them. She fed us, entertained us, accepted complete strangers as if they where her own and, being that she was a hair dresser, made sure that after a bit of styling Mica left her house looking as beautiful as she possibly could. I cannot wait to visit her again. I adopted her as another Mother, “Persian version”.

That evening Mica had to work so I was on my own. I got in touch with all the locals she had introduced me to and went about spending time with each of them and getting to know them. I asked plenty of questions and listened more than spoke. I want to understand beach way of life. There was a small part of me that envied it. I lived that lifestyle through the stories that each encounter shared with me and felt satisfied. Maybe one day I will not be as hectic, though I highly doubt that. I am happy this way. Accepting and completing new challenges drive me, setting and meeting new goals, and advancing on a daily basis. I think it is something that will stay with me to my grave. My father is in his middle 50’s and has yet to slow down. I do not plan to either.