Photo: south of Buck Creek, trails like this up above the beach were such a delight.
Yesterday I stopped and walked on Stinson Beach on the way home from the city. Boy, was it easy. No creeks to ford, no rocks to hop, no deep sand to slog through. Piece of cake.
I realized what a life-changing experience the Lost Coast trip has been. For one thing, beaches for me will be forever different. Like I went into the heart of all beaches, and will appreciate and love them with more depth from ever on.
Also, pushing through when I was about to give up. “If it doesn’t kill you, it’s good for you.”
What doesn’t show up in any of my photos are the 1500-foot high cliffs hovering over a lot of this coast, awe-inspiring, but scary. Some big gashes in the cliff where there’d been slides, with whole trees uprooted. Raw.
On YouTube right now: Wilson Pickett: “Land of a Thousand Dances”
"Lost Coast trip has been"
isn't that a song?