It was exhilarating.
It always takes me a long time to warm up to the beach and the water. Too much Shark Week and too big of an imagination often keeps me no farther than hip high in any water I can't see through. (Even in crystal clear water my concern then turns to what is UNDER me that will want to devour me. I can't seem to win...) but after the rush of getting up on the board, falling off and nothing happening, I quickly paddled out again and again to catch another wave. I understood the appeal.
After the real last "one more" we sloshed out of the water, happy, exhausted and hungry. Every ounce over extended, over used and ready to stop and the sad realization hit me: WE had to pack up all our stuff. My dad wasn't there to do it for us. Boards, igloos and towels that we so easily carried in the morning, now had to go back. Weighing more than I thought possible, we drug everything back, making multiple trips over shifting sand.
I had my first fish taco that night and we hung out as late as possible to postpone going back to the crappy, cheap hotel that boasted "We leave the light on." No, please don't. No one really wants to see what's there. We slept a dreamless, full sleep and woke again to surf the next day before driving back.
Since then I've not been that exhausted. Even Day Two, the longest hiking day in Peru, that lead us up to a snowy 13000 feet and down into high jungle for twelve hours did not feel that exhausting. Knees hurt and mentally tired, yes, but drop dead exhausted? Nope.
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| Day 2 of Salkantay Trail |
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| Almost top of Salkantay Mountain. The next six hours were all down hill.... ugh. |
I'm in the market for something that makes me exhausted again. Preferably on land. :)
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