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Green Sands

"Hey Mary Grace, wanna come with me to Green Sands this weekend? If we get stuck there, we'll just camp there."


I was received with a "Hell yeah!" I can always count on my gypsy-cowboy friends to be down for a last-minute off-road trip.


We head to South Point with a few close friends and my partner, driving two Toyotas with four-wheel drive. I was excited to baptize my newly-bought truck with ochre silt and green sand. It was going to be my first time 4-wheeling behind the wheel through South Point. As soon as we hit the silt roads, the ice in my Yeti cooler jiggled like a coked-out bartender, and Rosie occasionally flew inches above the seat into the air. I thought she would fall out the window. It was a wild ride and honed my 1st gear skills. I stalled out once...




If you're thinking, "little penis-syndrome" because of my truck. It's actually "Good-Pussy Energy." And yes, my fender flares are made from garden landscape edging. I graduated as valedictorian for broke-college resourcefulness.

We get to Green Sands (Papakōlea) and we all tried and failed at body surfing, especially Rosie who's feet tumbled over her head 4 times. Ed and Forest were the most successful. I think us women have too much booty and boobies.


The inner child in me climbed the rocks, climbed the steep green moon sand, and jumped back and forth between the water and the sand after every snacking of BBQ chips (my favorite chip flavor- specifically the Lays brand and the Filipino Clover brand).


I climbed up the steep green sand a million times only to roll down the soft pillowy sand back into the water. By the end of the day, I had a bunch of sand in my swimsuit, my hair, my mouth.


We drove back halfway and found a secluded beach to camp for the night. I got into my favorite XL t-shirt and started collecting rocks and kindling for the fire. South Point is incredibly windy, so we built a lava rock wall to protect the fire. Everyone played a role. Tara gathered kindling, Rosie helped me find some dry wood and rocks, and MG, Ed, and Forest helped build the rock wall. MG and Tara were dressed in rustic pastoral clothing- watching them prepare the fire felt archaic. It was a humble and simple dinner: grilled cheese sandwiches with a pesto spread, alfalfa sprouts, tomato soup dip, and a single Ali'i mushroom. After the coals died, we had silver tequila and our bedroom quilts to keep us warm under the starlit sky. Tara, who never drinks, whispered to me that night and asked for a little sip of my Jose Cuervo. What a jolly time~




The exhaustion of our adventurous day hit us all at the same time and we filled the beds of our trucks with floor pillows and blankets. The ocean lulled us to sleep as the constellation Cygnus above us disappeared among more stars. The bed of our trucks cradled us to a dreamless night, waking up occasionally and catching the silver-speckled sky.


I woke up the next morning dazed and hypnotized by the morning waves. Have you ever had that moment where you just wake up and you're not sure if you're still dreaming. The world is my oyster and I can pee anywhere. I still wish I owned a She-Wee, but then I'd have to clean the She-Wee. I'm fine with the squat and wiggle-wiggle method.



The sun was still low and rising, but blindingly bright. I decided to walk a mile away from our campsite and sunbathe in the nude by the shore. I can't put it in any other way, I was one with the rocks. This is what it feels like to be a rock by the shore. My bliss was quickly usurped by a Hawaiian fisher walking along the shore who had gone fishing the night before. Let me tell you, I'm all about not being ashamed of our bodies and our natural form, BUT AS A WOMAN, my ego signals the alarms in my head, and it's telling me to fly away or fight the dude. Fortunately, he saw me and realized what I was doing, and walked away from the shore. Thank you mister fisherman.


I had enough of the nude, so I fished with Forest and caught nothing with our bait. But it was still a beautiful crystal blue morning and we drove happy and exhausted.



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