The abundance of carny games and people at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk was slightly disappointing, so our entourage headed along scenic Highway I, meandering our way along the Californian coast, enjoying great views of the ocean and for for those of us sensitive to winding roads, motion sickness.
Following a coworker’s recommendation, we stopped at an unmarked area off the highway, where a slanting trail lead downwards to a cozy patch of sand and rocks isolated from the rest of the world. Panther Beach, as it is known, was a picturesque location; rocky cliffs shelter its beauty from tourist eyes, lapping waves erase yesterday’s footprints, and September winds add an encouraging chill:
Having the entire beach to ourselves was awesome. The usual beach activities ensued: frisbee, soccer (barefoot, probably not the best idea), football, kelp whipping, snacking, reading and studying, poses at interesting angles, and eventually a dip in the water.
And when we finally decided to surrender the beach to the oncoming evening, it rewarded us with one last statement.