North not south

After rising at a leisurely paste and having a little breakfast action, we spent the rest of the day at the beach. A slew of other people joined us.

In these few pictures, you get the sense that in area by the SF Bay, this sure ain’t LA. No silicone and lots of chubby folks just like me.

Not to mention thousands of activities, because the one thing a beach in Northern California isn’t is conducive to comfortable paddling. It’s fucking cold. To fight the elements, M. tried out the wet suit he rented in order to run, bike and swim his way through a triathlon right at the beginning of May.

As for me, I hung on the beach all hippie like juggling and enjoying the sun. A couple of wandering minstrels came by and minstreled it up in spontaneous, possibly inebriated style. Here’s me, them and a rousing but rough rendition of “La Bamba.”
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