What’s the Worst That Can Happen?

I left at about 12:15 and it is sunny and warm. It looks and feels like a summer weekend. PCH is backed up from the Four Seasons hotel to the harbor. The beach parking lot is bustling and there are lots of people making their way to and from the beach on the stairs. The shore is nearly at capacity.

I negotiate a path through running children. It’s definitely a different vibe here than it was yesterday at 6:30 in the morning. It’s not a bad vibe at all but there is a lot of energy here. Not that there wasn’t a lot of energy yesterday but it’s a whole different kind of energy. It’s human energy. I believe human’s are inherently good and the ocean can bring out their best. So it is all good here right now in a crowd of goodness.

The afternoon wind has started to pick up and the water is pretty ruffled and there is some chop as well. It looks like it could be a rough ride today. It seems like it has been a little while since I have swam in more turbulent conditions. Not a lot of surf though. That’s for sure. I make my way out in the water and like yesterday, the inshore shallows are crystal clear. A couple small waves roll in and I can see right through them to the sandy floor.

I start to swim and I am heading north today. Immediately I can tell it is a bit cooler today. I close my eyes and exhale through the first couple strokes after my initial submersion and let the cold wash over my skin. The lifeguard hut said the water was 64 and for once I think that’s pretty close. I’m still comfortable enough. I try to mentally record this feeling of the cold energy interacting with my body. It is a distinct physical sensation with a certain amount of force behind it. Today that force feels pretty benign. It’s not a February shock and awe campaign.

It feels like I am swimming directly into the current. Visibility is pretty clear today and the objects below me look like they are barely moving. I’m struggling to get a good view of the point at the end of Monarch. It takes so much effort to lift my head over the chop that I figure I’ll just keep going the direction I am going. What’s the worst that could happen? I choose not to answer the question.

Eventually I make it past the point below the Ritz and it feels like things relax a little and become a little more easy going. Not by a whole lot. Not an order of magnitude. But just enough.

I push and push and push and I can tell I am making headway. I suspect I am drifting a good ways from shore too. I notice a boat up ahead and I’m about parallel to it. I can see the wakes of the wind swell heading south-east. I decide to shift my aim shoreward and point myself just to the south of the beach club.

Soon I am east of the boat and the beach club is getting closer. I take stock of my position. I’m between the northern Salt Creek Bathrooms and the beach club. I’m hungry and it’s late and I figure I am on track to exceed my southern route distance. I turn my self around to head back.

I can now feel the current solidly moving over me from behind. I watch the rocks and kelp below me rhythmically move behind me in time with these wakes. I have now progressed very close to shore. I’m still well past the surf but I don’t think I have ever swam this close to shore on the Salt Creek side of the point.

I’m enjoying this. It’s gotten a lot easier than the start and the water feels a little warmer. I watch the beach glide by and it feels good to watch. I’m trying to place the exact feeling I have of watching this shore. It is hard to describe. It warms my insides. It looks like freedom. This is a happy place where one can put their worries on pause for a while. And the sun. The sun penetrates through my eyes and fills my insides.

Once I am in line with the snack bar, I figure it might not be a bad idea to put a little more distance between myself and the beach. I set my gaze on Dana Point and cross reference that with the lifeguard tower. The speed of the current feels like it is increasing and by the time I am past the point and in front of the Niguel Shores estates, I really feel like I’m moving.

I swim towards the little lifeguard hut below the asphalt and hit shore almost right in front of the concrete ramp. It’s probably in the mid-seventies here and the sun feels super good. The heat coming off the hot blacktop thaws my feet which feel particularly cool. It’s not until I am at the last few steps near the parking lot that the pavement starts to sting.

I take shelter in the shade of the abandoned funicular entrance and then make it to the shower that is pleasantly warm. Do I have to leave? As I approach my car, a van full of teenagers asks me if I am leaving and I give my spot to them. I tell them I’m gonna be a few minutes. Downloading my photos takes a while but I feel kind of rediculous just sitting here while they wait and so I go and figure I can download the pics whenever I want.