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My first air travel in 12 months got me somewhere better.

On Monday I got on a plane for the first time in over a year. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous. After 12 months of being beaten over the head with Covid news, just buying the tickets was a challenge — a mighty battle between fear and desire. Lingering on the Alaska Airlines checkout page, I’m happy to report that desire won. Complete purchase. It was time to move.

Heading to the airport my girlfriend and I we had four facemasks, three Db’s*, two tickets and one destination — a quiet beach town called Pescadero, near the tip of the Baja peninsula.

I won’t pretend getting here was comfortable. Sitting next to strangers for three hours, masked or not, felt at odds with the Covid protocols we’ve come to accept. But it made arriving in Mexico, feeling the heat on our skin, speeding through customs at an empty airport and plunging into a cool Pacific ocean, whales leaping across the horizon, all the more special.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed traveling. But writing to you now from a hammock overlooking a playful beach break, I’m not sure I’m willing to abandon the road anytime soon. We have to make up for lost time.

taylor

*A Strøm 90L and 60L Rollerbag and The Djärv Single Surfboard Bag. Oh! And his-and-her Ramverk 26L Backpacks. Guess that’s five...

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