I could live on the beach. I don’t mean in a house adjacent to a beach; though, sure, that would be great, too. I mean on the beach.
I wouldn’t mind the sand being everywhere all the time. In fact, I take a perverse pleasure in finding sand in strange places, especially when you think to yourself “I haven’t been to the beach in days…” (I miss you, Ocean Beach!!!)
And Tako has been in love with sandy beaches ever since I first took him when he was a year old, right after I got him. The look of awe on his tiny face when his paws first hit that sand will be emblazoned on my mind for the rest of my life.
So beach camping? That’s my jam.
Unfortunately, our first day of beach camping was my very first bad day on this trip. The day started out incredibly, so I know it wasn’t doomed from the beginning. But something shifted as soon as we reached our campsite…
Even so, it wasn’t entirely bad. So, in an effort towards mindfulness, I’m going to split the post into two: the Good and the Ugly.
Not Quite Flying Solo 