Marooned

It's 101.  Not highway 101.  Not Economics 101.  But temperature 101.  Degrees.  Arizona weather.  Only this isn't the Grand Canyon state.  This global warming is for the birds.

As I write this, I lay helplessly along the arid, sand covered wastelands.  Stranded amongst the foreboding cliffs to one side and the mocking, frigid sea to the other.  Throat parched.  The dry Santa Ana winds crisping my nostril innards.  Sweat profusely perspiring.  I haven't showered in 3 days.  It's not very aromatically enticing.

Sure the Montage Resort is only 57 steep steps away.  But it was almost too unbearably hot to hang at the beach and watch the skimmer dude skim away.  Almost.  The aforementioned winds and present swell led to a session that was firing - kind of like the weather.

A boy, his board, and a bird.