The beard on the bridge

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A while back, Max and I took a trip to Santa Cruz. Though it’s only a couple hours from San Francisco, it felt like a real vacation. We stayed at The Dream Inn, which most definitely deserves its name. It’s right on the beach with easy access to the boardwalk, and poolside drink service. I think I got a tan while we were there. It was a terrific weekend.

At the time, I had a surfer coworker friend who lived in Santa Cruz and shared a bunch of recommendations to delicious-sounding cafes, seafood joints, and restaurants. One of the most enticing ones was a bit of a hike, but with the lovely weather, we decided to walk it rather than car. Our trek to dinner was a bit meandering and at one point took us over an old train track bridge. For every wooden beam, there was an equal amount of open space down to the water. Probably not enough to fit a whole body through, but certainly a leg. It was the type of bridge me and my friends would have stupidly (drunkenly) jumped off of in high school. Due to this mild danger, plus the fact that we were buzzed, both Max and I were nervous as hell going over it.

BUT THEN in the middle of the bridge, there was a most friendly redbeard. I captured him at magic hour, so the light was ideal. I don’t really remember our exchange. But I got this photo. And then proceeded to have a delicious seafood dinner, play carnival games on the boardwalk, and get a close-up with some sea lions. I need to go back to Santa Cruz.