My preferred spot
So far, my favorite place to hang out at the beach is a small parking lot used mostly by surfers, moms with toddlers, and vehicle dwellers like myself. When I say “like myself” I mean they appear to be of the by-choice variety rather than the by-necessity type. They’re also middle-aged and up, clean and quiet. I can get a spot close to the sand if I arrive shortly after sunrise. But I was slow getting going this morning, and I stopped for some supplies, so my favorite lot was full by the time I got there.
No problem. There’s a much larger parking lot a couple of blocks away. One end of it is used primarily by dog park visitors. The other end is populated by, well, here’s where the judgmentalism comes in. These are the people concerned taxpayers mean when they talk about “the problem of people living in cars.” These are the people who give people like me a bad reputation.
All of us living in vehicles violate the ordinance prohibiting living in vehicles. For some of us, that’s the only law we break. For others it’s just one of several. I don’t want to be associated with them or, worse, get caught up in a law enforcement sweep because of their behavior.
So I put some territory between myself and the littering, partying, panhandling, substance abusers. I parked among the dog walkers. After a couple of hours, though, I decided to decamp to a different part of town. I drove south to Sunset Cliffs. If it had been about 7:00 instead of 1:30, it might have looked like this: