Two weeks after saying goodbye to the inspirational women on our retreat, we were struck with tragedy. Talei Jones, my bunkmate and fellow adventurer, had been killed in a horrific car accident in Jamaica. We were all stunned by the abrupt end to her beautiful, compassionate, and young life. I think it impacted each of READ MORE
It all seems like a vivid dream. I can fully remember the experience of being on a Nicaraguan beach. I remember how the ridges of the sea shells felt against the bottom of my feet but I can’t seem to get back there again. Like those sweet dreams that are interrupted by screaming alarm clocks;
Thanks to Holly Beck for putting this together. I will forever remember how badass I felt when I caught my first wave. I now realize how stupid I actually looked, but that’s okay. One day my surfing skills will match the emotions I experience when I pop-up on a board (I hope).
I mulled over my peanut buttered bagel. This trip had been so enlightening, inspiring, and nurturing; I had never met such a spectacular group of women. Everyday was such a great experience, even eating breakfast seemed like an adventure. It was hard to believe we were sharing our last meal in paradise.
I opened my eyes as the first beam of light peered in through the curtains. It was around five in the morning; the stillness of the day was only broken by the breaking dawn and a the sound of a lazy rooster. Talei was still sleeping. I noiselessly crept out from my mosquito net and
It was our last night in Nicaragua and we were ready to party. Holly had arranged for us to spend the evening at La Bahia, a posh eco-friendly resort, sipping on Nicaraguan rum and enjoying the views of Nahualapa.
It was our last day to go surfing. As we walked down the beach, Nicole commented on how glassy and perfect the waves looked; the stars had aligned to give us a morning of awesomeness and I was ready. I caught a few cute waves in and was improving on my pop-up. However, every time