Jumping a Millionaire’s Fence In Malibu.

Yes.

What started off as a relaxing beach day, turned into a frantic “I’m so fucked” jog on the beach as the tide started to rise.

Right when I thought I was running low on stories to tell. This happened to me the other day. And when I called my best friend about it, I was “laugh crying”. The type where you actually are a little upset, or maybe even just shell shocked from the anxiety your body went through.

It was a funny story looking back. But in the moment, boy was I stressin’.

It was a Saturday but I had work bartending that night.

So like any day, I like to take advantage of my free time.

I woke up, grabbed the pup and we went towards the beach. On our way there we drove up Kanan Rd. I use to work at this resort in the Santa Monica Mountains. Beautiful landscape – however they were all scorched black from the fire about two months prior.

It was a sad sight. But I wanted to see the severity of the damage. So we took a detour and drove up Mulholland. It was desolate. Like a neuclear bomb went off.

Lots of houses were damaged. Some standing. You could tell which houses were left untouched because I’m sure people were working hard to protect their homes. While some saw it as too dangerous.

Honestly, I would agree. It is dangerous. But that’s also my home! Everything is there. Not even the materialistic things. Just the sentimental.

And I am a VERY sentimental person.

I would probably have stayed to protect my home too. But having a home in what looked like a war zone would be hard to get use to. I know it would take years for nature to re-grow.

Although, I noticed in Calabassas where the fire too had made a big impact, the valleys were starting to heal and turn green after the fires.

Lush grass was growing! The damage was already being repaired by our beautiful earth.

And it made me think of something.

I use to love driving up Kanan every day on my way to work. It was so beautiful, but this new scene was heartbreaking, truly.

So I had an idea. My inner flower child, the green thumb in me, the environmentalist, whatever you want to call it — I wanted to do something about the damage.

I wanted to start a project. And I still do. It’s a work in progress but I would like to see the community come together and help out. I’ll write a letter to the Malibu city counsel.

I love to garden. I love plants. I love nature. I love trees. And I love California. The mountains are spectacular.

Why not bring it back to life?

Perhaps once a month or even quarterly — what if it was possible to gather thousands of people to meet and plant, one or even two things where the damage was done.

Anything! Just go to Home Depot, Lowes, or your local nursery? Perhaps even bring some nice soil too.

Pick an area each month to work on. and slowly let the restoration efforts begin.

Just plant a tree for shit’s sake.

When the fires happen, helicopters dump massive amounts of water. They also have airplanes dump fire retardant. Why not have them do the same thing — but dump soil and seed?

It would be a massive multi million dollar project but I think that perhaps with the aid of celebrities or public figures, maybe some funding could happen.

Market it right. Advertise it and spread the word.

And even if not. On a smaller scale the community could give back however they want. Maybe make a list of plants that would be suitable to bring. Ones that can re-grow each year. Or better yet, spread!

The Santa Monica mountains need lush vegetation! And I think it’s possible to do. This spring I want to act on this. If I could buy 5 plants however inexpensive they may be. Bring a few gallons of water. Shovel and will power? Multiply that by a few hundred people. Or thousand? And do such efforts each month for the next year? I think a good portion of the mountains could be restored to it’s natural beauty!

Why not help mother nature out? She makes this life possible for us.

I always think of it. Society is quick to rebuild homes, neighborhoods and businesses. We take better care of ourselves than we do the earth.

So I drove around and had this elaborate idea running through my head.

Originally, I was going to take my dog on a hike. But after the second national park I stumbled across which was “closed due to hazardous conditions” aka due to the fire – we went for good ole reliable. The beach.

I drove past Zuma and notice few people were out on this gorgeous Saturday in December.

Once I found a spot suitable, I parked.

My phone was low on battery so I left it in the car – thank god.

All I took was my keys and the chuck it with one solo tennis ball.

We walk up to the beach. Empty with just a handful of people.

I let my dog off leash. Start to throw the ball around.

Some folks walk by with their slightly overweight lab.

We have small talk. They continue walking with their dog following them.

And I thought, “Man, that must be nice, a walk on the beach with your dog off leash.”

I usually tend to stay in one little area because I’m not always so sure how my little guy will do with people we encounter.

He’s usually good but has weird random things he does. Like randomly chooses a weak spirited person to bark at. I always have to apologize.

He isnt mean at all. Just 50/50 chance that he will run up to someone and start barking at them. He really doesn’t do it that often. But in any case – this beach was perfectly empty.

So we went ahead and walked. The folks in front of us with their dog were way up ahead. Eventually they turned around and I asked if the beach ends.

They said no! Just a small strip you might have to run past so the waves don’t get you.

“Cool! Thanks!” I said.

And sure enough, they were right.

The waves came in, crashed against the rocks – and then subsided way back. You just had to time it right. And even if you did get wet, it was only going to be to your ankles.

So we hopscotched our way through to the other end where there was more open sand for us to walk on. And nobody there!

Man how nice is that?

To our right there were huge rocks and boulders for breaking the waves. I’m sure this was for when it’s high tide.

In the moment, I thought nothing of them — other than there were huge beautiful beach houses up above.

My dog and I picked a little area where we would not be seen by the homes. After all the rocks were about 10 feet high.

The sun was getting awfully warm.

So I took my vest off and long sleeve off.

All I had on was my sports bra. It was nice because I didn’t care. Nobody saw me. So I sunbathed. It was extremely relaxing.

The sun was so warm! It felt like summer! I think I may have closed my eyes and dozed off for a few minutes. Occasionally checking on my dog to make sure he was fine.

He just entertained himself with his tennis ball in the water and chased the waves down the coast as they crashed.

Occasionally barking at me to throw the ball. I just wanted to be lazy for a bit.

I finally was able to de-stress a little. Until the peacefulness was disrupted by a helicopter.

It hovered so low near the water. Flying that same height all along the shore and eventually passed us.

My first paranoid thought was, “Oh, maybe we aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Maybe they’re going to yell at me through an intercom to put my dog on a leash since technically they are supposed to be leashed at all times.”

“Maybe some rich guy called the coast guard on us? …I mean I guess I am kinda on the border of a private beach and a public beach.”

But there was no sign stating that. And I walked over here from the public open space down the shore.

Strange.

I felt a little uneasy and then out of the corner of my eye I saw a large fin out of the water. I watched it closely. Didn’t look like a shark. I wasn’t too sure though. Maybe a whale because of the size.

Either way, my dog was in the water. I yelled for him to get out. He happily trots over my way.

Then the helicopter re-appears.

I put my dog on a leash and start to walk back to where we came from.

“I guess that’s all the time we have today buddy.”

We casually walk back. Then we get to that little spot we had to run through.

And this is where the panic started and I probably did not even realize.

“Oh shit… it’s all underwater. There is no way to walk through.”

“We for sure are not going waist deep through that even though we both can swim.”

“I don’t have a suit on. Nor do I want to walk in wet clothes back. Oh – and I also don’t want to find out up close what sea creature is right near there that I saw a few minutes ago.”

“Not worth it.” I thought.

So we walk in the other direction. I figured maybe we can just walk around and get back up to the PCH and get to the car. You know, cause there should be other beach access points.

Nope.

30 minutes goes by and we are STILL walking. The houses are getting higher and higher up the cliff and the water is now starting to rise here too….. We start to run.

“We are so fucked. We are so fucked. We are so fucked. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck…..”

I was literally repeating that the entire time while jogging.

Then I was thinking of all the possible escape routes and scenarios.

“I mean I guess we could go back and climb the rocks and then walk through a few beach house backyards? But there are like 10 of them.”

Someone would surely say something.

Scratch that idea. Keep walking.

More times goes by and the shore is maybe 4-8 feet wide in certain areas. Our jog becomes a frantic run.

And then I see PEOPLE! I saw some Asian folks fishing and then a family walking by in my direction.

I asked them for help. Said I spent too long on the beach and the shore is gone behind me. I need to get back up to the PCH. Is there maybe an access point I can get up on?

They told me to keep walking the way I was going. Once I saw the big mansion with columns to take a right. There are stairs there that get you up to the street.

“PHEW!” I thought. Okay.

As I walked near there, my heart rate was coming down. Only to spike again because the wooden stairs I’m sure they were talking about on the cliff were covered in water.

DAMN IT!

I go back again and look up each stairway. Most had doors on them either at the bottom or top.

There were workers at one. I thought worse case, I could ask them for help.

Then I passed by one that seemed promising. We run up the stairs. It was something roughly 100 steps or more. These mansions were hovering over the water.

No time to appreciate them. I was worried about the time because I had work at 6 and I knew the walk back to the car would be at least another hour.

So we get to the top of the stairs winded. And as I suspected – but hoped not – there was a gate, and there was a lock.

Damn rich people obviously don’t want anyone using their private beach accesses. But you know what, I gotta get out.

So that’s what I did. The wrought iron fence wasn’t too tall and did not have stakes at the top luckily. I jump over and tell my dog to do it too. There was some left over bricks stacked up near one side of the fence that I used to get over. I thought he would figure it out and do it too.

Poor guy just stood there confused.

Like, “Mom – you idiot what are we doing? I’m panting and tired! You want me to jump that thing?! Yea right.”

So I climb back in, really hoping no one saw me.

Yeah this dumb blonde chick pushing her 65 pound dog over a fence of some millionaire’s home. Perfectly normal.

But dude!! I WAS TRAPPED ON THE BEACH!

Needless to say we made it over. Climbed up another dirt mound to get to the PCH. Then we walked a few miles back to the car.

Well, guess we got a killer workout in. My anxiety and stress still high. Which took a serious toll on my body. I was so tense. I hate being tense.

Crazy to think we casually were hanging out at the beach and this happened.

Midway through my drive back home, I already knew I lost my weed pen during the jog on the beach. Bummer but not the end of the world. I can easily get another.

What really threw me off was where the heck my wallet was?!

DID I LOOSE THAT TOO? FUCK!

And just as anyone knows…. loosing your wallet sucks. It’s not a fun process. All together just was the cherry on top to my day. Luckily I had enough gas in my car to get to work and luckily Wells Fargo will let you take out cash without your credit or debit card. So I wasn’t totally skewed.

The sad part though was that I had a few licensees from previous states I had lived in. They were so sentimental to me! I was getting more bummed by the minute. Hoping that my wallet maybe would wash up on the beach or someone would turn it in to the bank or try mailing it to the drivers license address.

Either way. I went into work exhausted and sad I lost my wallet. Told a few friends about it. One agreed to maybe to a search and rescue the following day. Just walk along the beach and see if maybe we could find it.

I get off work and call my buddy to explain how I lost my wallet. He too was getting off work.

Eventually I ended up saying that it was still early on a Saturday and I wanted to hang out and get my mind off things.

He agreed and met me at my place.

When he arrived I told him my story. His reaction was a combination of somewhat impressed and also amused.

In response he said we should get Dennys. I agreed and told him I would pay him back.

As we left the house, I muttered under my breath for the millionth time that day, “I can’t believe I lost my wallet. I looked all over my car too.”

I opened up my car and hopelessly looked again. My friend took a peek too.

Within a minute, I don’t even remember what smart ass comment he made but I whip around the other side of the car and there it is! He was holding it up in the air.

The relief!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not only was I spared from having to call and update my credit card information at numerous places like my phone provider, storage unit, car insurance, google music and more – I also had my sentimental licenses. Maybe it’s silly but I wanted them for memory sake!

Needless to say I was relieved.

We went to Dennys afterwards.

And all I could say was, “What a day!”