Just Another Trip to the Pacific Beach Cabin
Maybe I should have left the doors on. Oh well, it was a fun adventure without!
By Friday afternoon, I was running on fumes. Long week. The kind that grinds you down and leaves you staring at the clock like it owes you money. By 2:30 PM I was already mentally gone. By 4:30, I should’ve been climbing into the Jeep, firing it up, and rolling out like a parolee on a weekend pass.
That plan failed immediately.
Work ran late. Over an hour late. I bolted the second I could, sprinted home, handled the bare minimum, grabbed the dog, and pointed the Jeep west. Pacific Ocean. No detours. I needed salt air and familiar faces.
The drive out was easy—rare win. Doors off, left foot hanging on the rock slider, warm air rolling through the cab. Eighty degrees inland. Calm. As I rolled through Aberdeen, the shift was immediate. That damp, metallic coastal air crept in. Temperature dropped. Message received.
Pulled into a gas station. Empty pumps. Of course. Crossed the street to a 7-11. The Jeep got mystery fuel. I got a questionable hot dog and a pile of sugar. Survival food.
Back on the road, I cut onto the back roads toward Pacific Beach. Every mile closer brought thicker fog and colder air. Five miles from the cabin, the wipers came on. Shortly after, the heater followed. That’s how you know you’ve officially arrived on the Washington coast.
We spent the night celebrating my buddy’s birthday. Age is irrelevant. He’s old enough. The cake was solid—Safeway did the heavy lifting, we added the personality. Stripper pole. A couple of flexible Barbies in questionable outfits. Classy operation.
Dave and Chris rolled in late on their bikes, but he made it out on his birthday. That’s all that mattered.
This morning, I’m the only one upright. Fed the dog. Walked her through town, then down the beach. Cold sand, low clouds, quiet water. The kind of morning that resets things whether you ask it to or not.
Next up: breakfast. Then I’ll probably make enough noise to wake the rest of these assholes.
After that, we’ll see what the day decides to turn into.
Walk to the beach
