Apple needs a seatbelt

Yesterday I went for an adventure to Sea Ranch. I flew around the curves on highway 1, looking out over the endless ocean, singing my lungs out to the Dixie Chicks. I was reminded of all the coast adventures with my partners in crime. To the ocean on a whim, curvy roads and loud music.

The apple in the seat next to me rolled forward, then back, to each side. It leapt off the seat twice. The second time I left it nestled between my water bottle and my backpack on the floor.

When I reached Sea Ranch I was immediately frustrated. There were signs on all the roads into the development: private roads, private property, no trespassing, roads are patrolled. I stopped by the lodge, where the receptionist suggested I visit the public access points to the coast for a small fee of $5. I thought I would just park on the side of the road, and take the public path to the walk on beach path. There was no parking on the sides of the road. So, after a fair amount of deliberation, I opted to pay the fee and go for a hike. TRAIL CLOSED, read the sign. After more frustration over the sea-ranch-monopoly on the coastline (no physical or visual access to the coast or sea ranch itself), I found a public access trail that lead me to the gorgeous coastline and behind much of the Seaburbian development.

salt spray and wind. waves and stone, sunset over the pacific ocean. swallowed by seaburbia.