Saturday. Friday evening my gear was all over the apartment, drying. The REALLY sandy stuff on the porch, second level of banishment the stair rail, everything else on chairs...
To be sure I'd have preferred to stay home doing nothing, just lie about listening to sand drift down onto the floor from the sleeves of jackets. But Saturday looked to be a lull between storms, the only dryish day for a while. I had my own December survey to do at Rialto Beach, which I try to do in the middle of the month and it was already the 19th. So off I went, early Saturday morning.
But Highway 101 along the lake was closed by a landslide. It must have happened just before I got out there, there were no warning or detour signs, just a park ranger turning all the traffic back. To backtrack and take alternate route would have brought me out there at the top of the tide (plus uncertainty about whether I'd also have to go long-way-home in the dark), so I postponed. The 'landslide turned out to be one big rock. I mean, one REALLY big rock.
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