We arrived at Half Moon Bay after dark on a Sunday night. We set up quickly and fell asleep to the sound of waves. It was so dark, we couldn’t know how close we were to the water, and looked forward to the morning to reveal where we had landed.
In the morning, the beach was ours to claim, cold and beautiful, and we did claim it, most of us in a commando crawl on the sand to stay warm and out of the wind. Mark, of course, took on the waves with little boy zeal in a longer, leaner version of himself than the last time he was at the beach. I knew I was watching some of the last of his childhood as he moved to attack the waves with kicks and leaps. He will be more reserved next time. I will brace myself for that.
Two favorite memories from this leg if the trip: an eclectic and well-stocked used bookstore and an old fashioned diner.
Good surprises from Half Moon Bay: a new friend at the campground named Dave, flowers everywhere along the path to the beach, Daniel’s videos of Mark, and we became faster at folding up the pop-up trailer each time.
Menu: chicken salad on pitas, breakfast burritos, pizza, diner food, roasted hot dogs, and cinnamon sugar doughies by Mark and Richard
Essentials: jackets, heater, books, magazines
Favorite conversation: at Grandma Ruth’s house about “The List” of things she is not supposed to eat anymore.
