Van Damm-Bolinas

Woke up feeling refreshed, looking for surf (obviously). We drove to a spot near the campground that looked kiiiiind of promising, but maybe not enough to hop into our wetsuits, so we continued South, with a goal of getting to Bolinas later in the day. The 1 continued to be nauseating but beautiful, and eventually, we found ourselves in Bolinas. A cute, quaint little surf town just shy of San Francisco. The waves were small, again, but this time we decided to get in the water, which ended up being a good decision. Foamies and longboards flying everywhere, we knew the localism would be at an all time low, giving us the confidence to paddle out. Niko and I both caught waves left and right, effectively making us King and Queen of the Beaters (AKA the best of the Kooks). A title we both will gladly accept, for now.

Got out of the water and started heading towards San Francisco, not knowing we were closing in on a high-stress situation. After a tense car ride navigating city traffic, we meet Lauren at her apartment, to hopefully park in her garage, only to find out the truck is too tall for that. With literally everything we own sitting in our truck, the prospect of leaving it on the

street, or even in a paid garage, is even more nauseating than the 1. From all accounts, cars are often broken into in San Fran for small change on the floorboard, so we unloaded our most valuable goods into Lauren's garage and proceeded to the nearest paid garage for the night, where we prayed to Gods we didn't believe in that our stuff would still be there in the morning. Cortisone levels still elevated, we met Matt at a tapas place in the Mission. Dinner was super fun and seeing friends was great, but it doesn't feel like the right time to be in the hustle and bustle of a city. We're both looking to live a little more on island time right now, in direct opposition of the frenetic energy of SF.