Santa Cruzin’

I don’t consider myself a water person – unlike the bounty of surfers and ocean fanatics that I now surround myself with, I grew up inland and only ventured to the cold Oregon Coast 1-2 times each year.

Now in California I have many more opportunities to go swim in the ocean, or just be near the water.

However wonderful my opportunity is to many, even sometimes to me, when I heard I was going camping for a week at Santa Cruz Island, I was less than enthused.

The idea of being surrounded by ocean for five days straight, no matter how clear and beautiful I knew it would be, scared me. We were to be completely isolated – an hour boat ride away from land.

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My trip seemed to be the most popular out of the four – everyone wanted to go, and I even felt bad for taking up a spot when I wasn’t nearly as excited as some who couldn’t go.

Once I was on the boat to the island, standing with salty wind blowing through my hair, watching the island grow bigger and bigger, I began to feel excited. No longer was I wishing I was on route to Yosemite, I found myself looking forward to the next week, and what was to come.

What I thought would be a long, torturous week turned out to be adventure-filled and an amazing time. The ocean, originally the object of my fear, was beautiful, full of creatures, and the best part of the trip.

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Out of all the camping trips I’ve been on throughout my life, this one was the most fun. And not only did I explore caves, but I also explored my limits.

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