essays by shé

Tag: writing

  • Directions

    “Turn left at the field of basil.” “Tom’s house is just past the one with the fake lighthouse in the front yard.” “The surf shop is around the corner from the mini mart with the shaka mural.” Time and again friendly folk have given me detailed directions better than any Google map. Yeah, I take…

  • Baja Boots

    I stopped in San Bartolo to look for a hat. I’d left my Hawaiian lifeguard topper (made in Mexico) on Kaua’i — traveling light. “No sombreros, lo siento,” said the vendor. But what’s this? Boots. Two pair in a plastic bag, leaning against the brick wall. The woman brought me a chair and I tried…

  • Phoenix

    One cannot fly directly from Kaua’i to Baja California Sur, not on a commercial airline, anyway. Instead, I first traveled to the land of my birth, Phoenix. This makes metaphorical sense to me: new start, new life. Sluff off the old and regenerate. Back to the beginning to move onward. Today I’m in La Paz,…

  • Baja Bound

    “I’ll give you a hundred bucks to drive my truck onto the Young Brothers lot,” says the weathered guy outside the port gate. I’d just dropped off my 4Runner for shipping to San Diego. He claims he doesn’t have proper ID for security, and wants to get his (also weathered) vehicle on the barge to…