We were about to go to the coast, but instead we jumped on a mission to this secret beach on the Sandy for Justin’s birthday. You drive up a road into the country until you feel impossibly lost, then follow a wagon trail into the woods—which dwindles down to a single-track hiking path and the jungle presses in from all sides with cool, wet breath. Then suddenly you emerge on this excellent little beach fringed by a swimming hole with a set of rapids on either side that you can ride down on, say, a tube, over and over agin. Yep, secret beach—if you’re nice to me, I’ll show you sometime.
Lefty loves his uncle Justin.
Hipsters in paradise.
Second day at the river in his little life. So tiring.