At that moment, I really didn't know if I was up for Black's beach. Sure, we always have a great time when we go. And our friend, Darren is always a pleasure to be with. With Saturday being as muggy outside as it was, it was pretty certain that the beach wouldn't be too crowded. Not to mention, we'd been to Black's beach twice this whole summer. I was still hesitant though.
But while John stood on the stairs, waiting for me to respond, all I could think to say was, "Possibly."
A quick trip to North Park for a haircut and by the time I was riding my bike back home, I was definitely in the mood to go to the nude beach. John was in the process of stuffing his backpack full of the necessary nude beach essentials.
"Darren left a message. He didn't come down this weekend, but he'll be here next weekend," he informed me.
In other words, it was going to be just he and I. Interesting.
Like I'd mentioned two entries ago, John and I were talking about ending our relationship. Neither of us, up to this point had made any drastic moves--well, I'd taken up residence in the downstairs guest bedroom, but other than that, we were still civil and courteous to each other. So there was no need to panic after hearing about Darren's absence. I decided right then and there that we would have a great time at the beach. After all, it would probably be our last time here this summer and our last time at Black's beach together.
After waiting until the last minute, I finally grabbed my beach necessities: a couple of beers, bottle opener, my iPod, camera, bottled water, my cigarettes, the current issue of Dwell and of course, some pot. Backpacks finally packed; we were ready to go.
Downstairs in the parking garage, John made a quick dash to our storage cage.
"I figured we could play paddle ball while we're there," he said while holding up the large wooden paddles. The paddles went in the trunk, along with our backpacks and we were on our way to La Jolla. The coast was nice and there was a light breeze coming in off of the ocean. A few paragliders touching down at Torrey Pines as we parked the car and started walking towards the cliff steps. Rather than taking the rigorous 'goat trail' down to the beach, we opted to take the steps. Getting down to Black's beach is an adventure in itself! This time, however, rather than taking the trail with its sharp turn offs and slippery markings, the stairs proved to be the better choice. By the time we hit beach level, John and I were talking and still in good spirits while we headed north to the nude and gay section of the beach.
Luckily, it wasn't too crowded. There was a thick marine layer over the water and beach, but that didn't stop people from strolling through. With the exception of a few daring surfers, there was no one in the water.
We found our spot, unpacked our things and immediately stripped down. I love being naked at Black's. I can't understand people who go through the trouble of getting to the beach--only to stay clothed. Even though there was cloud cover and a slight breeze coming off of the ocean, it still felt great. I opened one of the beers, lit a cigarette and completely relaxed. John and I chatted for a while before he decided to stroll down the beach. With him gone, I put the cigarette out and pulled out my pipe and the stash of pot that I'd packed.
There were too many guys strolling up and down the beach as they would on a day that was more sunny. But there were a few. Nothing too impressive, but nonetheless fun to watch while toking. John was gone for about 20 minutes before I saw him in the distance, heading back to our spot.
"Can I have some of that?" He asked, once he'd settled back on to his beach towel. For the record, John is not a pot smoker. It makes his muscles ache, he once told me. He has, however, on a couple of occasions actually took a few pulls from a bong; now here we were at the beach, about to get smoked out together.
"You know," he said after taking a hit from my pipe. "I've never smoked out of your pipe."
The pipe passed back and forth between us and within a few minutes of smoking, we were stoned. Then, he suggested we play paddle ball.
"Before we get all lazy and shit." He explained.
Stoned. Naked. We got up, paddles in hand and started serving the small rubber ball between us. It was fantastic! The last time we were at Black's, I played naked frisbee with a friend of mine. That was great, but this--this was fantastic. Naked paddle ball. We were lucky that it wasn't too hot, so we were able to play for quite a long time without breaking into a sweat.
We ended up staying at Black's beach for almost 4 hours. Feeling refreshed and worked out, we grabbed our things and started walking back down the beach towards the cliff steps.
Like I said, we always have a great time whenever we come here. But for some reason, I think this trip with John will be the one that I'll always remember.
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