I wake up to the dog barking. It is morning time and there are joggers passing by the truck. Scrappy attempts to protect his truck. I rub the sleep out of my eyes, pull the sun shades out of the windshield, and try to figure out where I am. I got lost trying to find a Wal-Mart with bad directions from a gas station attendant. I drive west, knowing that I will either hit a highway or the ocean. It is the ocean that I am after.
We find a highway and I steer the truck towards Ocean Beach. There is a dog beach there where Scrappy can sniff all the butts he pleases as I jog down the sand. The sun is barely up, but the beach is already spotted with dogs and their owners. We run, he sniffs, he humps things, he chases things, he plays in the surf. We are both happy, and cool. We explore all the way up the beach as I try to get a picture of the little man:
We walk out to the rocky side of the pier and watch the waves crash on the rocks:
I drive to a place called Sunset Cliffs where the parking areas are small and hard to get in and out of. I take a few photos before leaving:
We head north and try to find the coastal highway which will carry us to the border of this country. I pull over in Oceanside. A bit of a reverie from a vacation taken a few years ago. I swim in the ocean, I walk the dog all over the place, I eat lunch at the end of a very long pier. I meet a friend from high school for dinner. We go to a seafood place and I eat some tasty clam chowder. We walk a few steps away to watch the sun set:
After dinner she goes back home and I sit in Carlsbad wondering what to do. The sound of a live band reminds me that it is Friday night. I take the dog towards the sound and we watch a soul cover band for an hour. Then it’s back to the truck to sleep, with freight trains passing next to me every hour. After the first few they don’t even wake me.