T minus 4 days. I’m done with my preparations. I got my GPS tracker. It’s normally used to locate stolen tractors or snowmobiles, but my family insisted on tracking and salvaging my kidney, should things go wrong. I also picked up my missing meals: 3 dozen assorted protein bars and a bag of energy jellybeans.
At this point I’m beginning to overthink every step of this expedition. I spent the last three days finalizing my itinerary and laminating tide charts. One of the key issues I had to tackle is where to spend my nights.
My hopelessly romantic goal has always been to stay as close to nature as possible and sleep in my tent on the beach. Unfortunately Southern California’s number one policy directive is rich homeowners first, hobos and traveling kayakers second. It’s horrible news for me, considering most of the coast is owned by rich home owners.
Laguna Beach seemed to be the most challenging, so I decided to write to City Hall requesting a special permit or exception to spending the night on the beach. In diplomatic jargon their response is known as a “polite fuck you”:
Unfortunately all of those beaches mentioned are either too close or too far from my starting point for that day. In a desperate attempt I turned to where one usually turns for advice on street sleeping. I did a Google search for ‘homeless blogs Southern California‘. Perhaps, I should not have done that.