a la Frontera

Imperial Beach // San Diego

By Lauren di Matteo

Written by Nicole Bravo

There is a reason why most beach houses and resorts have major discounts in the fall and winter. Who wants to go to the beach when it’s cold and cloudy? Lucky for us, it happened to be an exceptionally warm weekend and we were sure to take advantage of the pleasant weather. After running around all day playing ultimate frisbee, getting knee-deep in the cool waves and collecting insane amounts of perfectly intact seashells, the long shadows beckoned us to embark on what would turn out to be a very long walk. “Let’s head to the border!” I shouted excitedly, knowing full well that the border was too far for us to reach on foot. The whole gang responded with enthusiasm and we were on our way. Being that we were in the southernmost part of Imperial Beach, we knew the border was fairly close, but I’m not sure any of us thought we could actually reach it. However, when you’re with a group of good friends, it doesn’t really matter what the destination is, or if it’s possible to reach, it really is all about the journey.

The sun drew nearer to the horizon as we roamed about, awed by the beauty of the changing light, without a care in the world. We were together with hearts full of joy, soaking in the beauty of creation, and that was more than we could ask for. Eventually we came upon an area where the waters from the estuary streamed into the ocean—the mouth of the Tijuana River—as I would later come to know.

Despite spending the weekend at the beach, none of us were presently dressed to get in as deep as the stream required. I stood with a few others at the front of the group as we looked to one another—eyes filled with hesitation—then back at the water. Sealing the fate of those behind us, we began crossing the river mouth, that is after we rolled up our jeans. As we stepped in, the water rushed by at calf-level and I looked out to watch the river meet the ocean. I noticed it was only ankle deep over there since the tide was way out, and logged this in my memory for the trip back, in case these waters deepened later on.

As we rambled onward, the slight nervousness that had settled over us while crossing the river mouth melted away as we delighted in the beach like carefree children. We ran, we jumped, we giggled and told stories, with every moment more enchanting than the last.

Around the two-mile mark I became acutely cognizant of the fading light and sensed it was time to turn back; at that moment, Tijuana came into view. We couldn’t believe it, we might actually reach the border! Determination replaced concern as a buzz of excitement made its way through all of us. Though the border was in fact the goal all along, it seemed no one had really thought about that until now. We were so caught up in the journey that we hadn’t considered the possibility of actually reaching the end in mind. Now every conversation was about Tijuana, stories of trips to Mexico, or conjectures about what we might find at the border. My friend David commented about what a great experience this was for all of us to share together. I agreed, then half-jokingly remarked that we needed something difficult or bad to happen to really seal our bond. With a hearty laugh, he agreed with me.

Finally, after an unexpected three-and-a-half-mile walk, we reached the Mexican border right after sunset. To our surprise, the fence wasn’t very heavily guarded; there was one single truck up the hill with its lights blaring at us. I considered that our first warning. We continued closer until we were about five yards from the U.S./Mexico border when my hope of shoving my hands through the fence into Mexico was dashed as I read the sign: HIGH INTENSITY ENFORCEMENT AREA OFF LIMITS TO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL DO NOT APPROACH THE FENCE. I looked left at the truck with its lights boring into me, daring me to make a move and see what happens. I thought better of it, trespassing a few feet wasn’t worth whatever repercussions they may try to inflict. Instead, I lined everybody up parallel to the sign for a group photo, like a child taunting her sibling with a pointed finger shouting, “I’m not touching you!”

The sky seemed to show-off with its glorious display of color as streaks of fuchsia, violet, and magenta filled the firmament. After everyone took their fair share of photos, we started the trek back much more quickly than we came. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon and while no one said it, we were all aware that crossing that river mouth in the dark would not be fun, and we had a long way to go before we reached it. The more our eyes strained to see the path before us, the colder and more anxious we felt, and by mile four we were all walking closely together complaining of ankle and knee pain. We even made up a plan of who would carry whom if one of us could not go on. As the moon rose higher we noticed that the waters did as well and our only comfort was the deepening content of our conversations. It’s amazing the questions people feel free to ask and the vulnerability with which others answer, on a dark beach in the middle of nowhere.

A shared experience can lead to sweet nostalgia later on, but a challenging one bonds people for life.

We reached the river mouth which now mixed with the high-tide causing those shallow waters to rise waist-high. I yelled to our friends who were a bit ahead of us, explaining that if we walked closer to the ocean it should be more shallow. No one seemed to listen besides my friend Ayu who stood beside me. I told her we just needed to wait for the set of waves to finish and then we’d run for it. Being a surfer, she knew I was onto something and waited alongside me as the others began wading through deeper waters. “Now! Go!” I cried, as I began sprinting across the shallow ankle-deep waters, with Ayu to my rear and a couple of others who’d caught on to what we were doing. It was working!

All of a sudden, the ground dipped drastically and I had the sense to grab my phone just before water covered my waist. “Cut that way! Cut that way!” I yelled, as I gestured for those behind me to head directly for the shore through the river mouth. I squinted in the dark as I tried to figure out how to make it around the rest of the river yet still be progressing toward the shore. The next set had already started and the waves were coming toward me. I looked over to see my friends wading apprehensively through the comparatively shallow water a few yards away. It’s just you now, you have to do this, go! I advance toward what I think is the shoreline as a wave rolls by, and the waters rise all the more. The next wave comes and I realize I’ve made it around the river mouth but am now running parallel to the shore—recalculate—I turn and in a few steps manage to make it to the beach as a wave of relief washes over me.

I look around as the rest of my friends finally make it across, electronics held overhead, all soaked from the waist down. One comes out drenched from head to toe, she had fallen head-first into the water when the ground dipped. Then comes Ayu, the only one who stood with me when I tried to find a better route, she has a special place in my heart because of that, she stuck with me. The fear begins to dissipate for all of us as we realize we have overcome. David approaches me with a sly grin, reminding me of our earlier conversation, “So I guess we got that bonding experience we’d talked about after all.”