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The Orphans of Pothole Beach
July 04-07, 1996
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II
Crossing
The deep sand portion of the trip normally takes about five hours; but this occasion consumed eight, as the first twenty km northwest of Black Mountain deteriorated from unimproved to tracks, then to a cow path, and finally went down a gopher hole. The error was our own, the result of a twenty year absence from the area. From the track crossing onward the road was well defined, and despite high temperatures and deep sand we managed to reach the beach a couple of hours before sunset, just at high tide. Unable to cross the first estuary, we set our cots against the vehicle and spent a blissful night coddled by a cool sea breeze. Our only neighbors, a California couple completing a week's stay, left early the next morning as we were eating breakfast and preparing for the crossings. Shortly thereafter some fishermen passed headed south.
After fording the three inlets that separated us from Pothole Beach, we observed that water had been running over the highest part of the beach and into the estuary behind. Failing to recognize that this was most likely due to recent high winds, it looked to us like most of the beach line would disappear in this area at new and full moons. We checked our tide calendar, and in consideration of increasing humidity and wind, elected to dispense with the tent, setting our cots out on the highest spot we could find. In the extreme humidity we hoped for maximum ventilation during the night.
Satisfied with our progress, we took a break in the form of a short excursion to the point. By the time we returned, we found the worsening weather made even minor activity undesirable. Having no way of knowing that turbulent weather was not the fate that awaited us, we sat around in a blissful stupor contemplating the miniature rip tides that shot back and forth at water's edge until hunger overtook us at about 3:00 PM.
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Larry K. Fox
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