After we cleaned and set up our site, Joseph and I hung out in the tent reading while Chad made the trek to the market to pick up some diaper wipes. That's right. In a rookie mommy move, I forgot wipes. If the Mommy Association of America (MAA!) ever found out they'd revoke my membership. At the very least, they'd fine me.
Chad returned full of stories of an alternate camping reality a few short miles away. Curious about the mythical location Chad was raving about, we loaded into the car and headed to El Capitan Canyon Campground. After parking in a visitor spot, we walked towards the rustic cabins and safari tents nestled among the surrounding trees. Dried corn stalks and pumpkins highlighted the rambling split rail fence. We walked into the cozy market and were immediately assailed by the scent of fresh brewed coffee and the sight of sparkling bottles of wine lined up neatly next to carefully displayed s'more ingredients. Outside the double doors, long log tables boasted BBQ reservation signs and an announcement of Saturday night's band. Children and adults alike rode past on the campground's bikes. Fashionable couple pulled up in fashionable
cars. Brightly colored scarves held back long blond hair. I felt like I'd walked onto a J. Crew shoot.Feeling scummy in my jeans and sweatshirt, we headed back to
our side of the tracks (literally) where we decided to go down to the beach to catch the sunset. (Chad and Joseph were suitably impressed by Mother Nature's painting.)After a peaceful night interrupted only by the train passing by every few hours (can you hear the sarcasm?), we woke up bright and early ready for breakfast and a morning at the beach.
The beach was beautiful and quiet. One of the benefits (in fact, the only benefit) of Joseph
waking us up each morning with the sunrise was being able to head to the beach before the crowds descended. We passed a couple early surfers and fishermen on our way down the winding path towards a deserted stretch of beach surrounded by rocks and driftwood. Joseph looked for starfish while Chad and I dipped our toes in the icy Pacific.After wading in thigh deep water as waves crashed around us, obscuring hidden rocks and deep pockets of sand, we found a spot to sit and bask in the sun in solitude.
When lunchtime hit, we made the walk back, surprised at the number of people that had invaded the previously quiet beach. Frat boys in togas and gladiator gear (seriously); teenage girls riding bicycles with every hair in place, skimpy tops slipping down their golden shoulders; families with the entire contents of their campsite scattered across the warm sand; couples strolling hand in hand while dodging whiffle balls and Frisbees. The crowd was so different than that of Northern California beaches. It's hard to explain exactly how. Partly they were more stylish, more put-together. Partly their clothing reflected label conscience LA.While Joseph took a nap, Chad and I played the ever-popular Scrabble game. It's worth noting that I kicked his arse. That make four times in the last six years that I've beaten Chad at Scrabble. Four!
We spent the afternoon back at the beach. I forgot my camera at the site. After a few minutes bemoaning the missed photo ops, I buckled down to enjoying some serious family time. We were on the hunt for starfish and weren't going to let a little thing like an incoming tide stop us. After a lot of searching and a few big waves, we finally found three starfish glued to the side of the boulders. As each wave crashed around our feet, I'd pick J up above the surge, setting him down so he could "pet" the starfish.
After a dinner of veggie burgers and potato packets, we went to
bed early, snuggled under the comforters. We woke up with runny noses and the "uh oh" feeling of impending sickness. We quickly loaded up and headed home.
No comments:
Post a Comment