For most Wisconsin residents, the city of Milwaukee offers five main attractions: beer, brats, baseball, basketball, and a beautiful lake. From touring the Miller Brewery Visitor Center and witnessing the historic origins of the “Beer City of the World,” to testing your luck at the Potawatomi Bingo Casino, to even experiencing the adventures within the Harley Davidson Museum, a day in the prosperous city can never be uneventful.

However, for others, Milwaukee serves as a secret refuge for spies engaging in covert operations.

While the shadows of Milwaukee’s City Hall may fall on what appears to be a nondescript alleyway, an observant eye will discover a sign that reads International Exports, Ltd., 779 Front Street. Many pass by this sign without any regard. Some, however, choose to enter the hidden door adjacent to the sign and are greeted by a woman known as Miss Moneypenny. She sits at an antique desk in a dimly lit waiting room, and startled, asks you for a password of entry.

Without knowing the password, you may start to panic. What is this place? Am I upsetting her? Miss Moneypenny will proceed to ask you to perform different “tricks” for access to a secret world in return. However, by simply whispering the words “I’m Looking for a Safe House” Miss Moneypenny will hesitate no longer. With the pull of a hidden lever under her desk, a bookcase suddenly moves aside to reveal a mysterious hallway. You too should not hesitate, and instead proceed before Miss Moneypenny changes her mind and closes the bookcase once again.

Upon entering through the bookcase, the obscure hallway seems to continue forever. The lighting barely reveals an atmosphere, and a subtle musty odor lingers in the air. Black and white photographs and framed documents hang from the walls around you, and after looking closer, you start to discover the secrecy of your surroundings. You may try to retreat through the bookcase, but after finding out that it exists no longer, your only choice is to continue to venture forward.

You eventually reach yet another entry way; however, this time you step foot into what appears to be a restaurant. A bar stretches across an area to your left and features a large map with specific locations repeatedly circled in red. Hidden rooms are to your right and each hold tables, seating, and mysterious wall accents. You are greeted by a hostess who refers to you as a spy and asks if you would like to be seated. You say yes and ask her where exactly you are. She hesitates but eventually responds “The Safe House.”

Upon being seated, you are confronted by a waitress who hands you a menu and brings you water in a red glass with a black key hole on one side. She also hands you a folded piece of paper that is stamped with the word “CONFIDENTIAL.” You anxiously unfold the document and reveal a Spy Mission that is to be completed before leaving the Safe House. Without further delay, you read the ten tasks that make up the mission.

The first task is to find a room with a green ceiling that features a “cracked code.” You begin to wander around the restaurant until you come across such a room. After searching the surroundings, you eventually discover a framed two inch card surrounded by photographs of James Bond 007. The card is signed by a former spy and reveals a code in which you use to complete the mission. You jot down the code, and continue up some wooden stairs to explore another bar and secret area of the restaurant.

The second task is a little more risqué. It involves a woman having to enter a specific ladies’ room located within the restaurant and discovering a poster of Burt Reynolds. When the woman finds the poster, a siren sounds for the whole restaurant to hear, and everyone knows what that woman just witnessed  She then has to walk out of the ladies’ room and is usually greeted by laughter.

Around the corner from the ladies’ room lies the destination that contains the third task of the Spy Mission. A long wall stretches across the area that features various cartoon illustrated individuals. A third bar is present in the room and seating is available alongside the wall for an extra special dining experience. The challenge asks you to discover a button that turns the current stationary wall into action. Upon finding the button and pushing it once, the wall suddenly breaks up into puzzle pieces. The shapes then begin to move over and past one another until the bodies and heads of the illustrated characters are swapped. Once the wall is finished moving, a woman’s body often times now has a man’s head.

After completing three tasks of your Spy Mission, you venture back to your table and order a Spy Burger off of the menu. The Safe House features creatively titled lunch and dinner items ranging from burgers, salads, sandwiches, and soups. The restaurant has won multiple awards for the peculiar atmosphere and decorations as well as for the delicious food. Four bars exist throughout the restaurant as to provide the spies with multiple secluded meeting areas. The Safe House even features an upstairs room that is available for private spy conversations.

While many more tasks await you, I will not reveal any other information about the Safe House other than the route of exit. In order to successfully leave the restaurant, you must exit through a way that you did not enter. Upon wandering throughout the restaurant in an effort to discover this secret route, you will come across a CIA telephone booth in which you should insert a quarter and follow the directions prompted to you. This will then allow you to leave through a mysterious alleyway, but only after being taken into the Interrogation Room.

To complete the entire Spy Mission and discover all that the secret refuge has to offer, visit the Safe House yourself at 779 North Front Street!

~Kerry~

To view my complete album from my trip to Milwaukee, visit EY’s Facebook page!

I am an explorer; I love discovering what the world around me has to offer. I have done my best to travel the 22,000 acres of the “Emerald Necklace” of the Cleveland Metroparks, sampled the historical Cleveland tradition of ethnic diversity at the West Side Market, and gotten lost in the memories of a magical time period at Stan Hywet Hall and Gardens. Recently, I have boarded another timeless journey: the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad.

From serving as a transportation corridor for the Indians thousands of years ago to later providing settlers with an easy way to move bulk goods, the Cuyahoga River and Valley in northern Ohio has always been an asset to people of all ages. The Valley Railway was primarily built to transport coal from south of Canton, Ohio to the prosperous industries developing throughout Cleveland. Today it serves as transportation through beautiful meadowland, the homes of beaver, fox, deer, and owl, and shopping and lodging destinations. Children anxiously climb aboard the “Polar Express” during the Christmas season and experience a magical trip to the North Pole to visit Santa Claus. Families travel alongside the railway on miles of the Towpath Trail to bike, walk, and even canoe.

With twelve main points of interest and eight stations, the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad stretches across 33,000 acres of our National Park. I have visited and photographed two of the stations including Peninsula Depot and Brecksville Station. Each station offers various forms of entertainment ranging from recreational activities, dining, shopping, and art galleries.

Peninsula Depot
The Peninsula Depot sits in the small town of Peninsula that offers various tourist attractions for its visitors of all ages. A few dining options include the Winking Lizard and Fisher’s Cafe and Pub, stores range from Burda Books to Yellow Creek Trading Company, and art galleries include Diane Seskes Photography and Elements Gallery. Special events are held throughout the year and attract families from all over the Midwest. Not only is the town packed with excitement during the day, but it also has a great night life featuring various bars, karaoke events, and live musicians.

While visiting I traveled the Towpath Trails. Not only was I able to observe wildlife throughout the dense forest, recreational activities on the trails, and the beautiful scenery, but I also came across the Canal Feeder Dam, a historical landmark of the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad. While the dam was originally built in 1827 to provide water for the Ohio and Erie Canal, today it functions as more of a memory for the town. Peninsula once greatly depended on this dam and the Cuyahoga River, and many of the buildings throughout the town still stand as to portray the purpose it once served.

I also walked alongside the Cuyahoga River which has created a series of peninsulas over the course of its existence. While the river was once completely polluted and disregarded by society, it now serves a different purpose. I observed two children skipping rocks across the water, a family canoeing on the calm rapids, and a blue heron searching for its lunch.

Brecksville Station

The Brecksville Station also offers much excitement for its visitors.  Well known restaurants are just around the corner and offer a wide variety of dining options including Creekside Restaurant and Bar, Sakura Japanese, and The Courtyard Cafe. Shopping centers are within walking distance from these restaurants and feature unique stores such as Riverview House Antiques Gifts and Florals and ABC Art and Coin Exchange. The area also serves as a great recreational destination as people come to hike, golf, play softball, and run cross country.

While visiting I photographed the beautiful fall scenery around the station. The Route 82 bridge spans the Cuyahoga Valley and runs directly over the railroad at the Brecksville Station. Built in 1931 the bridge stands at a height taller than the Statue of Liberty and its unique construction the evolution of bridge engineering.

From recreational opportunities to gourmet dining to experiencing historical landmarks, the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad is truly a beautiful asset to Northeast Ohio. While I have only visited two of the stations, I look forward to exploring and photographing more in the near future. Board the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad yourself and discover all that it has to offer!

~Kerry~

Check out my complete Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad photography album
on EntertainingYourself.com’s Facebook page!

1. Buy the right dirt.

Succulents and cacti need dirt that’s classified as “fast drain” because they have roots that are not fans of being kept in moist soil. You can find it at your local garden store, just make sure it’s marked “cactus dirt” and you should be good to go.  Or, if you’re particularly ambitious, you can make your own cactus dirt – there’s a how-to video with a recipe here.

2. Find the perfect pot.

Not only do you want to find a pot that’s nice to look at (it is, after all, a big part of your garden) but make sure it has a big hole in the bottom so it will drain when you water your garden, instead of pooling at the bottom. Excess water that gets stuck in the bottom of a pot can cause the roots of your plants to rot, so this point is extra important.

3. 

   This Christmas Cactus displays beautiful blooms!

   Select a big variety!

Now, the fun part: plant shopping! The interesting thing about succulents is they’re found in all areas of the world, and so you can mix and match. In my latest succulent pot, I have plants from Morocco, Tanzania, and Australia, all mixed together – it’s like a botanical world tour! What makes an interesting succulent container garden, in my opinion, is a variety of heights, leaf shapes, and colors, so don’t be afraid to get picky (even if it takes so long that not just one, but THREE, Home Depot Garden Center employees come up to you over the course of your shopping trip to ask, “Do you need any help, miss?” like, uh, the author of this article..).

4. Give them room to grow.

Now that you have picked out your plants, make sure they have lots of room to spread out and leaf out. I suggest at least an inch width around each of your small plants when you first plant in order to give them plenty of space to grow and fill out your container garden…or, if you got overly ambitious, container gardens.

5. Put them on a good plant diet.

Yep, even cacti like a good drink! Don’t forget to water your succulents about 1-2 times a week. Depending on the size of your garden, you can simply put the whole container under a tap and let the water flow over the garden until it begins to drain out the bottom of the pot (for about fifteen seconds). As long as you have the right soil and pot, your plants will thank you for remembering them (but probably forgive you if you forget them every once and a while. That’s the nice part about these guys.). And worry not, those of you in colder climates: as long as your little succulent garden is placed in a sunny window (but not too near the cold windowpane), they can easily be wintered over indoors and enjoyed all year round. Finally, fertilize your garden at least a few times a year with a ¼ diluted garden fertilizer (especially during the summer, when your garden gets the most light). This will help your plants thrive for years to come. Good luck and happy growing!

~Megan~

I spent four sunny days in London at the end of March – not nearly enough time to see and do everything I wanted to do, but enough time to stroll around some of London’s many beautiful boroughs. (Visiting London became even more significant because I had learned not long before the trip that I would be moving there after finishing my Peace Corps service.) Here are my recommendations for a few nice walking-sightseeing routes if you find yourself in London for several days.

DAY 1

Marylebone/Fitzrovia and Regent’s Park

At the Marylebone Farmers’ Market

This posh, neighborhood-y area is known for its proximity to peaceful Regent’s Park. One of the friends I was visiting lived in this area, on Weymouth Street just a few blocks from the Sunday Marylebone Farmer’s Market, which even in late March was already full of gorgeous greens, plenty of parsnips, delicious homemade goat cheese, and the best carrot cake I have ever had. I recommend trolling for postcards and souvenirs on Marylebone Road – if you like wax figures, also check out Madame Tussaud’s – before ducking into Regent’s Park for a stroll around the lake or a run on the many winding paths that offer glimpses of the London Zoo’s residents.

Bloomsbury and Russell Square

Enjoy a picnic lunch in Russell Square

After your morning stroll through the park and farmers’ market snack, walk east out of Fitzrovia to Bloomsbury, the district from which the early 20^th-century Bloomsbury Group – the Woolfs and E.M. Forster were some of its prominent members – took its name. Drop into one of the many Sainsbury’s grocery stores to pick up picnic fare, then take it to Russell Square – most famously featured in Thackeray’s Vanity Fair – and enjoy people-watching while you nosh. Once your legs (and stomach) feel rejuvenated, walk one block to the British Museum. If you don’t have time for the whole museum you must at least stand gazing upwards in the glass-domed atrium for a few minutes. If you’d like to continue your literary tour, walk east on Guilford Street to Doughty Street, where you’ll find the Charles Dickens museum, situated in the house where Dickens lived for much of his life in London.

The British Museum atrium

DAY 2

Tottenham Court/Charing Cross Road to Trafalgar Square to Whitehall; the Houses of Parliament; Westminster Abbey to Buckingham Palace, St. James’ Park, and The Mall           

If your feet feel up for it, use a leisurely second day to take in many famous sights. Start on Tottenham Court Road in Fitzrovia and walk south; when you cross Oxford Street it will become Charing Cross Road in Soho. Take your time to stroll along, pop in and out of bookshops, and check out what’s playing at the theaters. Not far from Leicester Square you’ll run smack-dab into Trafalgar Square (contrary to popular belief, when I was there people actually outnumbered pigeons). If the weather is nice, grab a bite at Pret A Manger and people-watch while sitting on the steps of St. Martin in the Fields; if you’re lucky you’ll catch a choir rehearsal or concert in the church.

Westminster Abbey

When you have sufficiently refueled, walk south through Trafalgar Square to what becomes Whitehall Road; you will be flanked by tall, white buildings and soon will glimpse the Houses of Parliament and the famous clock tower known as Big Ben. Pause for some photos and then swing right to Westminster Abbey. You can pay to see the entire Abbey, but if you’d rather get a feel for it without shelling out any pounds, walk around to the west entrance and sit in on Evensong or Evening Prayer (check the schedule first; they offer free services and small concerts every day).

From the Abbey, continue walking west toward St. James’s Park, in the center of which you will find Buckingham Palace and the Queen Victoria Memorial. Walk away from the Palace along The Mall; you’ll eventually come out under the Admiralty Arch and find yourself back in Trafalgar Square. Stop in at the National Gallery or Portrait Gallery if you have time.

DAY 3

South Kensington and Chelsea

Start in Chelsea’s Sloane Square and visit the Saatchi Gallery, an art gallery that had an exhibition of contemporary German art when I was there. Even if modern art is not your cup of tea, the gallery is free and worth spinning through for its gorgeous design and use of space. Do you prefer shopping to art galleries? Walk up Cadogan Square to the famous department store, Harrods, where you will find anything you could ever want.

Prince Albert Memorial

From Harrods, it’s a short walk down Brompton Road to South Kensington and Exhibition Row, an area also known as “Albertopolis” for Queen Victoria’s establishment of museums, concert halls, and colleges in honor of Prince Albert, her husband who died too young. You could easily spend the rest of the day here in the Victoria and Albert Museum and the Natural History Museum. Take some time to walk up to Kensington Gardens/Hyde Park to see the ornate Albert Memorial and the spot of the 1851 Great Exhibition’s Crystal Palace.

DAY 4

City of London

If you still have energy after the previous three days, start this day in the one-square-mile City of London, the oldest part of London and now the financial center. Spend some time at the Museum of London, free and chock-full of London’s history from the earliest times to today. When you feel saturated, walk south and follow your eyes to St. Paul’s Cathedral. Ogle at its dome and design – if you want to spend some money you can go inside – before continuing south to pedestrians-only Millennium Bridge, leading straight to the Tate Modern art museum. While crossing the bridge you will see the reconstruction of Shakespeare’s Globe Theater. If you have time, catch a performance at the Globe after enjoying some modern art at the Tate. (Unfortunately I didn’t have time to do either of these things on my visit.)

St. Paul’s Cathedral as viewed from Millennium Bridge

Obviously, you cannot see all of London in four days. But if you like to walk, admire architecture, and really get the feel for a city, I recommend the four above walks as good starting points. I look forward to discovering many more great London walks after moving there – perhaps I shall share them with you. If you have suggestions for other walks, feel free to leave them in the comments section. Happy exploring!

~Tammela~

                              Photo from LA Traffic Cam

Los Angeles is known, no—fabled, no—downright notorious for its horrible, mind-numbing traffic. In fact, it’s estimated that Los Angeles County residents spend about 4 days a year (or, oof, 96 hours) in their cars.

So what’s an Angelino to do with all that time? Here are some ways I’ve come up to pass the hours you spend getting from here to there in L.A.:

1.  Rock out to KCRW. KCRW is Los Angeles’ public radio, indy rock station, with a heavy dose of NPR-sponsored news and programming. Turn that dial to 89.9 FM and enjoy new bands, the latest news, and helpful traffic updates. Plus, with frequent free giveaways for members in venues all around the city, it’s a great introduction to some interesting music hotspots around town. Bonus: For you smartphone users, they have a great app, too!

2.  Roll down your windows and let the sunshine in. Hey, you’re in California, remember? Chances are the weather is a balmy 82 degrees and sunny, so breathe in those exhaust fumes and enjoy that sunshine. Just don’t forget to sunscreen up or you’ll soon be sporting a super attractive, left-armed trucker’s tan.

Hitting some of that famous L.A. traffic

This image from PD Photo.org has been released into the public domain by its author and copyright holder, Jon Sullivan

3.  Count out-of-state license plates. One of the first things anyone will ask you at a party in L.A. is “So, where are you from?” It’s a widely known fact that no one is from Los Angeles, we all just move here trying to make it big (or cry trying). In particular, you’ll see a large number of out-of-state plates driven by young dreamers like myself. And just so you know, a thumbs-up of encouragement is always appreciated, even after we’ve accidentally cut you off in a left-turn-only lane—quit honking, we’re from outta town, after all!

4.  Eat. I’ve become a huge proponent of stocking my car with snacks, like cereal bars, trail mix, that sort of thing, since you never know if you’ll get stuck in a jam on the freeway. Bonus points if you’re wise enough to stop at In ‘N’ Out for a burger animal-style before you head out into the rush.

5.  Practice defensive driving. Check your blind spot, increase your following distance, signal excessively…and be prepared to get hit despite it all. You’re in traffic for an entire four days a year; chances are you’ll be involved in a fender-bender at some point down the line. On that note, you may want to consider dropping a bit more on insurance than you might in another city; it might be worth it.

6.  Learn a new language. Check out an audiobook at the library and practice your nouns while you stop and go (that’s “parada” and “ir” in Spanish, folks). Look for an audiobook that emphasizes conversational language skills, so there’s not too much book work that goes along with it.

7.  Be a trailblazer: Take public transit. Despite its reputation to the contrary, L.A. does have a growing public transportation system (with a subway! Who knew!). It’s particularly useful if you’re heading to Hollywood or downtown. And for those of you out late at night, all trains and the Orange Line are now running until 2 a.m. on Fridays and Saturdays!

Final note: Believe it or not – and despite what you may see to the contrary, one thing you shouldn’t be doing while driving is talking on your cell phone – unless it’s on speakerphone or you have a headset or Bluetooth. California has a strictly enforced cell phone law and cops will pull you over and slap you with a hefty fine (well – hefty for someone like me who’s on a budget!). Texting is also illegal, so when you desperately need to tweet about having just seen Justin Bieber coming out of a Starbucks in West Hollywood, just pull over okay?

Self-portraits: Only a good idea as a passenger

~Megan~

After becoming settled in my new apartment at Kent State University, I drove to the local Giant Eagle to stock up on some cliché college food and caffeine. When walking up and down aisles in search of chocolate for some much needed brownies, a box caught my eye: Roasted and Salted Pepitas. I picked up the container, read the label, and could not figure out what on earth I was holding. While I usually would have placed the item back down and continued to search for chocolate, I decided to buy the inexpensive container and find a recipe for the unusual food.

I got back to my apartment and searched the Internet for an explanation of pepitas. After a few minutes of Googling I found out that they are the seeds of a pumpkin or squash and often used in cooking or even just eaten as a snack. I came across a recipe for Pepita Salad and after reading over it, I decided to put my brownies on hold and give it a try.

For the salad I used:

1 cup pepitas, roasted and salted
1 cup cilantro leaves and stems, well washed
1/3 cup Parmesan cheese, freshly grated
3 medium cloves garlic, peeled
juice of 1 medium lemon
1 serrano chile pepper, minced (optional)
2/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
4 cups cooked yellow split peas
1 bag of lettuce of choice

First, I washed and chopped the cilantro, placed it in a medium sized bowl, and added 1/3 cup of the pepitas.

I then peeled and diced the garlic, squeezed the lemon juice, and chopped the chile pepper. I combined these ingredients with the cilantro and pepitas and added the olive oil and Parmesan cheese to the mixture.

In a large bowl I tossed the lettuce, remaining pepitas, and ingredients from the medium bowl until everything was fully coated. I then added the cooked split peas to the salad and tossed everything again. To cook the split peas, I brought six cups of water to a boil, added two cups of split peas, and cooked for 20-30 minutes. I then drained the peas and added salt to taste.

I made myself a plate, sat down, and enjoyed!

~Kerry~

Like any other student anticipating the end of August/beginning of September time of year, I am still wondering how June, July, and August passed by so quickly. I took five courses throughout my summer break, and now that they all have come to an end, I feel as though my summer has just begun.

During my last few weeks of relaxation, I have been traveling to various areas throughout Cleveland to engage in a personal favorite hobby: photography. To keep a three-year tradition of mine alive, I recently attended the Feast of the Assumption in Little Italy. The Feast is an annual event that begins with a religious procession through the streets, followed by carnival rides, vendors, live music, and fireworks. The Feast amazes me. From meeting new people, experiencing a different culture, and, of course, sampling delicious Italian food, the event is far beyond entertaining.

This year I decided to bring along my camera as I took a Photography course this summer and wanted to practice some of the skills that I learned throughout the five-week intensive class. Between endless pasta, pizza, and pastries, I took pictures of the colorful environment, live entertainment, and different vendors throughout the crowded streets of Little Italy. By taking pictures of different places throughout the Cleveland area, I hope to pass along not only the environment and scenery of the particular subject matter, but also give the viewer a sense of the smells throughout the area, textures, tastes, and other more descriptive characteristics not usually conveyed by the average photograph.

Which leads me to my central interest: I have always enjoyed being creative. Whether it was making a birthday card for a friend, helping my mom cook a new recipe, or designing collages for my bedroom, I have always demonstrated an artistic passion. I still practice all of these childhood interests today, making personalized birthday cards, cooking and baking any new recipe I can get my hands on, and designing collages, posters, and brochures for others and myself.

In a few days I will continue to practice these interests as I begin my first full semester with Kent State University. I attended John Carroll University for the past two years as a Marketing major, but after taking three Visual Communication Design (VCD) courses with Kent last summer, I decided to further pursue their program and learn more about the growing field of design. I will be working toward earning degrees in both VCD and Managerial Marketing as I hope to combine the two areas of interest and someday work as a Graphic Designer while applying business knowledge to my projects. While change terrifies me, I anticipate my transfer not as a change but more as an enriching opportunity that will allow me to finally discover all of my capabilities.

Over the course of this semester I have two expectations of myself: remain positive throughout this new experience and grow as an individual. I could not be more thrilled to begin my internship with EY and share some of my interests with a broader range of individuals. I look forward to the months to come, and I am thankful for having the courage to engage in such great opportunities.

~ Kerry ~

Want to see more of Kerry’s pictures from the Feast?  Check out her album posted on EY’s facebook page.

Photograph of LA, taken by Martin Mudry

If this picture is to be believed – Then “YES” the  pot of gold really is in California!

Last time Martin was in LA, he captured this rainbow over Hollywood while he was looking out his window.  Stunning isn’t it?  And is it any wonder  he can’t resist returning?

Interested in EY’s West Coast Adventures?  Here are a few stories from our archives worth a(nother) read!

Jumping In California Style

Don’t Knock It If You Haven’t Tried It

The Key to Sea Kayaking Part 1

The Key to Sea Kayaking Part 2

Road Trip West – Part 4 

Sunny Spot – Mountain View, CA 

Who’s Guarding the Roost?

Part 2 of 2 by Megan Ritchie

(continued from Part 1 of 2)   After an hour on the water sea kayaking, I was all calm now, a real ocean woman. Sure, I come from the middle of an enormous continent, and have lived in landlocked cities my whole life, but here I was, at my true roots.  I was an ocean conqueror! A Californian!!   Suddenly the waves lurched in front of me, taking my boat with them. An enormous wave  overtook my boat and spun it parallel to the shore, like a crazed giant with a toy top, before flipping me over into the waves. There was a flash of panic as I tumbled out, and the waves ripped away my sunglasses, ponytail binder, and the sassy bandana I’d tied into my hair that morning, and carried them to somewhere far away.  I kicked hard away from my boat, all the while thinking “Don’t let it hit my head. Please don’t let it hit my head.”

Wave after mighty wave ground me into the sand. I struggled to stand against them – I was only a dozen feet off the shore by then and the water wasn’t deep – and finally, gained my footing. I plodded up to shore.

On shore, Sarah was doubled over with laughter. “That was….gasp….the biggest wave….gasp…I have ever seen,” she said as she scrambled to grab my paddle out of the still pummeling waves. Adrianna, the wench, had made a successful landing on shore unscathed, and helped me pull my boat up onto drier ground, before we all collapsed into laughter.

“That was amazing,” Sarah said, once we’d all caught our breaths. Sarah pointed up to the pier. “There were even guys up there at the restaurant who were yelling suggestions to you, but once that wave came up, you didn’t have a chance.”

I tapped my head, trying to get some water out of my ear. “I’ve always known I’m really gracefully,” I said dryly. “But I think I may have outdone myself on that one.”

We decided to eat our lunch on the beach before heading back out for another round of kayaking. We scurried up to the parking lot and I reached into my running shorts to grab the key – we’d locked our lunches in the trunk. But the key wasn’t there.

“Oh. No.” I said.

“What is it?” asked Adrianna.

“The key. I put it right here,” I said, motioning to the little pocket stitched into my running shorts, “But when I fell, it must’ve…it must’ve gotten pulled out.” We all looked out onto the waves.

“Oh shit,” said Sarah.

“Yeah.”

We ran down the stairs again, looking around in the sand. But, like my sunglasses and bandana, there was no sign of the car key. I’d taken it off from my lanyard, so it was easier to tuck into my running shorts; our hunt was literally looking for a needle in a haystack…or a car key in an ocean. Sarah said she’d keep looking along the beach while Adrianna and I clambered back up to the parking lot. We debated what to do for a moment, before appealing to the parking attendant to use his phone. After explaining what had happened, he said matter-of-factly, “Oh, you should never take your keys out with you. Everyone just checks them here with me or at the Surf Shack. That way, you’ll never lose them if you hit a wave.” I looked at him. Paused.

“That’s good advice, I’ll be sure to do that next time,” I said through clenched teeth. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own (and maybe that big wave’s) that we were in the situation, but it wasn’t particularly helpful to be reminded of a wiser alternative.

Adrianna and I came up with a plan: I had a Triple A membership and could get them to unlock the trunk, which had my purse and phone. Then, I’d call one of my roommates, all of whom I’d met only six weeks earlier, and convince them, beg them really, to drive across the entire Los Angeles metropolitan area on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon with my spare car key, only to turn around and drive home. I sighed. There went the afternoon, and a nice chunk of my dignity.

Triple A said they’d be there in 45 minutes. I handed the parking attendant back his phone and thanked him for his help. He shrugged and gave me a “You sure are dumb” look. Helpful. Adrianna went to go check in with Sarah, and came back saying there was still no sign of the key along the beach. Just then, the surfer dude from the Shack, the guy who’d helped us carry the kayaks down to the beach what seemed like days ago, passed by, helping another couple with their boats.

“How’d it go?” he asked. “You didn’t die, I see.”

“Oh, it was really fun,” I said, trying to reassure his latest victims. “Except, well, I managed to horribly flip my kayak and lose my car key in the ocean.”

The couple, still fresh, looked a little alarmed. “Oh God, that’s horrible,” said the surfer dude. He shot me a sympathetic look as he kept walking past. Adrianna sighed unhappily.

“Are you sure it’s not in your shorts?” she asked.

I shook my head as I poked around in them again, adding “groping myself” to my long list of how uncool I looked/felt at that moment. They were the type of shorts that had built-in underwear, the better to run in, I suppose, and I fiddled around with the liner.

“No, I don’t see—“ And then there, at the very bottom of the shorts, at the very bottom of the liner, I felt something: The key.

I pulled it out, looking very much like a proud hen that had just laid an egg, or, in this case, a Ford Focus key. “I found it! I found it!”

After high-fives all around and a quick phone call to cancel the Triple A locksmith,  we settled along some rocks for a victory lunch. Maybe I wasn’t a Californian just yet, maybe I hadn’t yet mastered sea kayaking or waves or heck, checking my car key with the parking lot attendant, but one thing is for sure: I am really good at storing stuff in my underwear.

 ~Megan~

By Megan Ritchie

About a month after I moved to Los Angeles, a friend and her girlfriend, Adrianna, invited me to go sea kayaking with them in Malibu. I’d been kayaking a handful of times, most recently on a family vacation to Lake Superior last summer, and was really excited to try it in the ocean.

On a Sunday afternoon, we drove the twenty or so miles from my house on the east side of Los Angeles, across the city and up the coast along the Pacific Coast Highway (or PCH, to us “locals”). Parking on the PCH, which runs right alongside the ocean, is impossible, but we eventually found a parking lot right next to the beach and dropped the ten bucks to park there. After locking all of our possessions in the trunk, I tucked my car key in a little pouch in my running shorts (pay attention to that detail – it comes in later), and set off. We scampered across the highway to the Malibu Surf Shack, which rents surf boards, paddleboards and, you got it, sea kayaks. After we ducked in to the little shop and our eyes adjusted to the dim light, the guy behind the counter asked if we’d been sea kayaking before. Sarah and Adrianna both nodded, yep, they’d been once before at the Surf Shack a handful of months earlier. I hesitated, and then said, “Sure, I’ve kayaked before.” Technically not on the ocean, but so be it.

“Well, good,” said the guy, who was every bit a surfer dude. “Wouldn’t want an inexperienced kayaker out on those waves today….they’re reaaaal rough, even for someone who knows what they’re doing.”

My heart began to pound as we signed off the waivers and put down the deposit.  Sarah, clearly the brains behind the operation—or at least the bravest of us all—led us out of the little shop. Adrianna and I both began talking about how we weren’t exactly “experienced kayakers.”

“Oh, we’ll be fine.” Sarah said, brushing us off.

Feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline and fear I always get from any rule-breaking or risk-taking because I am a coward and a square, I followed her around the side of the shop. We grabbed paddles and damp lifejackets and then waited for a lull in the traffic before running across the highway and back to the beach. The sea kayaks in bright citrus colors were stacked high in a trailer parked alongside the road. Another surfer dude from the Surf Shack helped us carry three down to the sand.

The waves were pounding along the beach. Adrianna and I gulped. Sarah, all confidence, tried to reassure us. I turned to the Surf Shack dude.

“Tell us, honestly,” I said. “Are we going to die?”

“What? No. You guys will be fine.”

“But we are not experienced sea kayakers, man.” I added the “man” there to let him know that even if we weren’t regular wave-paddlers, we were far from dorks. He seemed to pick up on how cool we were, because he said next in particularly soothing tones:

“Look, you’ll be fine. I promise.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, but Adrianna and I were willing to be reassured by anyone, dude or otherwise.

The guy continued, “All you have to do is wait for a lull in the waves and then run out as fast and as hard as you can and hop in the boat when you can’t run any farther. The waves here in Malibu come in bursts—they’ll be a couple minutes of hard waves and then they’ll die down.”

We all paused to look out on the waves. They did seem to be dying down. Sarah took the moment to leap into the water and run out with her boat. When she reached waist-height, she leapt into her boat and paddled out. She looked cool.

I’d missed my window at that point, and had to wait for another round of boat-crushing waves before I too took the plunge. Once the water calmed again, I pushed my boat into the water and high-stepped as far as I could. I leapt into my boat not as gracefully as Sarah but I got in all the same, and paddled quickly past the waves’ breaking point. Alright, maybe I wasn’t going to die. Maybe I was all drama, it was all in my head. There is no spoon. Adrianna and I exchanged a nervous laugh – we were just being silly, everything was fine.

I should note that this was only the second or third time I’d even seen the ocean, let alone been on the water. I’m from Minnesota originally and so “the beach” to me means a day near a lake where the biggest waves we get are from a passing speedboat pulling a couple kids on an inner tube behind it. So my cowardice, while a little pathetic, wasn’t entirely ungrounded.

We paddled our boats out past the wooden pier. There were fishermen with long poles standing at the end of  it, and a few of them waved at us as we passed. It was a gorgeous afternoon, with barely a breeze and a cloudless sky. I looked around at the gentle waves and the rocky coastline, and kept having to tell myself “I live here now. This is my home now.” Sometimes, I find it amazing how huge the United States really are. I marveled how the beautiful coastline I was kayaking along was part of the same country as the rolling hills of prairie grass and wildflowers I’d ridden past only a few months earlier on bike rides in Minnesota.

As we made our way up the shore, we saw surfers up ahead; there was some kind of surfing competition going on up the beach. We paddled out farther to avoid them, and because (understandably) the waves looked even bigger there. We paddled for an hour or so before deciding to come back in and have lunch along the shore.

For the approach back to the beach, we were to do the same strategy as our way out: wait for the waves to calm before paddling. Sarah turned to us. “All you have to remember,” she said, “is to keep your boat at a 90 degree angle to the beach. Just head straight in. See, watch me.”

Sarah paddled forward hard for thirty or forty feet before sliding her boat gracefully onto the sand. Easy. Adrianna and I hesitated. She looked at me nervously. “I’m sure we’ll be fine,” I said, thrusting my chin forward bravely. I looked behind me to try to gauge if the waves had died down. Things looked fairly calm so I paddled toward the shore, making sure to stay perpendicular to the shoreline, as Sarah had instructed.

Adrianna followed suit, looking anxious. After my hour on the water, I was all calm now, a real ocean woman. Sure, I come from the middle of an enormous continent, and have lived in landlocked cities my whole life, but here I was, at my true roots. Humans emerged from the ocean thousands of years ago, shook off their gills and claimed their spot on land. And now, here I was, returning to my ocean homeland, victorious. The forces bigger than me were to be conquered, to bow before me. Yeah, I was an ocean conqueror! A Californian!!

I paddled harder for shore. Suddenly the waves lurched in front of me, taking my boat with them. I glanced over at Adrianna, who was struggling to keep her boat’s bow heading straight for shore. Her kayak pushed toward mine, and I paddled even harder away from her, trying to avoid a collision.

The waves were now coming in even harder, rolling us closer and closer to shore. Suddenly, an enormous wave overtook us, and took my boat and spun it parallel to the shore, like a crazed giant with a toy top, before flipping me over into the waves. There was a flash of panic as I tumbled out, and the waves ripped away my sunglasses, ponytail binder, and the sassy bandana I’d tied into my hair that morning, and carried them to somewhere far away.  I kicked hard away from my boat, all the while thinking “Don’t let it hit my head. Please don’t let it hit my head…”

…to be continued