I leaned into the wind while holding onto the hood of my rain suit, slowly making my way to Haystack Rock.  The wind grew stronger while picking up sand, scouring my face with force.  By the time I was at Haystack Rock, the wind had slowed to a gentle breeze, although not for long.

No longer fighting the wind, I was able to sift through subjects to ponder.  The subject of  future plans came up as this is a popular one for me.  So much has changed for the better in my life during the last year, that I felt it was time for a major leap of faith..  A big change.  A major change. 

I worked my way around Silver Point and glanced back at the prominent figures in the background; Haystack Rock with Jockey Cap.  Although the day was cloudy, things were just where they needed to be.  Everything seemed in harmony.

I thumped my way along the wet sand and saw an abandoned house, or shack, or whatever it was.  Time has a way of erasing everything.  I wanted to make the most of the time I had and that required balance.  A balance of work and of play.  Of family with socializing and solitude.  Finding this balance in this complex society is an art in itself.  The best way to achieve this, I thought, was with minimizing responsibilities.  Responsibility requires time.  Time is the one commodity that is constant.  This was not a new thought as lightweight backpacking is metaphorically similar.  You learn to use a tarp, not needing the huge backpack, staring a chain reaction.  You get a smaller pack, inevitably it will be lighter, not requiring those heavy boots.  You end up with less, but still owning the things that make it complete.

Materialism to me, is a lot like this.  If  I purchased a 60" HDTV, obviously I would need to pay for it, then take care of it, requiring the time of making the money required for purchase and the time of upkeep.  Then of course, I would need a surround sound or some kind of speaker system to deliver equal audio to go along with the enhanced video.

So I chose to simplify, keeping what I have and not replacing it after it's life is over, taking on a new perspective and savoring everything I have that is real in life.  So far, it has made life much richer for me, like a glass of fine wine instead of a big gulp.  While pondering, I did not realize that I was almost upon what was left of the old roadbed, before the days of Highway 101.  I slowed my pace and broke myself of my trance.  I noticed many new things as if I were blindfolded before entering such a place, not seeing them as I approached.  There, in front of me, was a large rock shaped like a foot that I found incredibly amusing.

To my left, I gazed at the cliff's rock formations and colors, wondering how many years it had taken to make them this way.

The remnant skeleton of an old car chassis appeared as I took a break, looking over it, trying to make out anything telling me of it's identity or age.  Finding nothing, I pondered again about time and how it eventually erases everything, leaving only memories.  Someone helped build this vehicle with their bare hands, but I doubt they remembered it.

I came to the end of the beach and rock hopped my way to gain access to the old road bed.  My guide book told me that at low tide, I could take this all the way around to Hug Point.  The tide table I had with me told me I was four hours away from low tide as the waves were crashing up and over the old road bed.  I screwed up my courage and made my way up to the highest point of the road.

The wagons of old had to "hug" the wall while dodging waves in the early 1900's to get around this point, hence it's name, Hug Point.  I did the same as I dodged one, two, then three big waves as I ran along the road.  I gained a few feet of elevation and looked back, glad that the tide was on it's way out.

I rounded the bend and came to a dip that stopped me from going any further.  I could see the beach on the other side but could not access it until low tide.  I was not going to wait here for four hours and turned around.  As I was running back, retracing my foot steps, a wave hit and hit hard.  It was not large enough to knock me down, but managed to knock my water bladder from my pack's side pocket.  Scratch one Platypus as it hit the rock's barnacles and spilt open.  The top was the only split part way as I still had a liter left in it.  I had lunch at the beach during my return to the truck and thought some more about the subject of future.  Even the old road bed made out of rock will be no more in time.

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