Torrey Pines State Beach is pretty much my favorite beach here in S.D.

Despite being entirely in the city limits of San Diego, it feels like its way out there, out in the wilderness. I suppose this is how New Yorkers tend to think of the deep interior of Central Park. If you’re coming down from La Jolla, it’s easy to just speed past this place and find yourself in Del Mar without so much as a blink.

I used to hang out here a lot in July and August of 2006, hiking up to the trails and watching the sun set. But once the days got short again, it was too difficult to actually make it up there before closing time. Still, whenever the days would get me all wound up and full of madness, sometimes I would just pull out to the side of the road and watch the waves come crashing upon that precarious piece of shore.

It is, however, quite a popular place, so finding a parking space requires some modicum of planning. Even on weekdays.

So I’m driving around 45 to 50 mph, doubting that I would actually find a spot, when, lo and behold, a spot lies open right next to a Winnebago. I slam the brakes and turn rather precipitously into the spot. Success!

It has been nearly a year and a half since I last played amongst the waves and I felt compelled to brave the icy cold waters. The problem with the Eastern Pacific is that the water is freakin’ freezing and the cold seriously sucked the breath out of my lungs. And by the time I arrived, the wind had shifted. The warm summer-like air began mixing with the frigid Alaskan water, giving off an obscuring fog that made it difficult to see the shore from where I stood, knee deep in the brine. I stayed in the water until arms started going numb, then made for the shore and crashed out for a little while. By the time I woke up again, the sun had burned through the mist, leaving behind nothing but miles and miles of blue sky. The water shimmered green and blue, the clearest I’d ever seen in California, and perhaps anywhere I’ve ever been, except for maybe Borocay.

Since I am a masochist, I jumped back into the water. The waves were picking up. One of these days, I’m going to have to get a surf board, I guess. Although I’ve resisted thus far. The problem is that to be practical, you’ve really got to have a wet suit.

By 3 p.m. I was pretty tired and not a little peckish, so I ended up driving down to Ocean Beach. Remembering something Chr recommended to me some time ago, I finally had a burger at Hodad’s.

But I think my lack of sleep is finally getting to me, and I’m probably gonna crash out pretty soon. But first, I’ve got to drive home.