Our Encinitas Grey Story

I grew up near the ocean. I love the feel of salty, rustled, wind-blow hair after a day on the beach. Lying still and soaking up the sun brings me peace and a quiet joy. I look forward to summers spent in cut-off jeans and never wearing socks. When I was young my father taught me to ride the waves on a body board. This year I want to learn to stand up, carve breaks, and count rolling sets. I want to be back by the water.

After living in metropolitan cities, small east coast villages, and midwest corn fields, Encinitas is the reason we head back west. I'll admit I was cynical about the allure of San Diego. But I was hooked from the first day of our visit. We drove up coastal Highway 101 into this sleepy surf town called Encinitas. My eyes opened to take in the ocean, I heard the crashing waves on the beach, and I smelled salt in the air. The vintage sign arching over the highway welcomed me to my future home. As did the mix of taco shops, Thai restaurants, meditation gardens, health food stores, and surf boards racked on top of classic adventure mobiles. Lived in shops where dust settles on sun-faded postcards sit between hip coffee shops filled with sun-kissed faces. A place of endless summers and the future home of Tradlands.

What will your Encinitas story be?