Okay so last Tuesday I packed my stupidly heavy backpack and drove like two hours out to Dead End Beach. Yeah that name sounds sketchy as hell right? I saw some random forum posts claiming it was “super dangerous” but others said “chill spot.” Had to check it myself.
Gearing Up & Getting There
First thing – grabbed my old hiking boots. Flip-flops? No freaking way. Threw in:
- A windbreaker (looked sunny but you never know)
- Enough water for a small army (seriously, dehydration sucks)
- My phone with a fresh power bank
- And this cheap tide chart app the guy at the bait shop swore by
The drive sucked. Narrow roads, zero signs. Felt like driving into the middle of nowhere. Parked at this tiny gravel lot overlooking nothing but ocean and cliffs.
Reality Check: The Path Down
Looked down at the beach. “Path” was a joke. More like a sketchy scramble down jagged rocks. Took me like twenty sweaty minutes just to get down without breaking an ankle. Seriously debated turning back twice.
Once down – yeah, weird vibes. Water was beautiful blue, sure. But the current? Saw driftwood the size of my car tossed like twigs within minutes. Swell came outta nowhere. Kept my distance. The cliffs behind? Huge cracked boulders overhead. Didn’t sit near those.
The Creepy Bit & Why “Dead End” Fits
Here’s the weird thing. Found old campfire circles. Bottles. Flip-flop graveyard up against some rocks. People clearly partied here. Why? No clue. Hardly any sand, just pebbles and sharp stuff. Wind howled nonstop.
Checked my tide app. Oh crap. That cozy cove spot where I’d eaten my sandwich? High tide covered it completely within the hour. People must get trapped here. Imagine that panic.
Final Take? Safety… It’s Complicated.
So, “safe”? Fuck no. Definitely not for kids. Not for dumb tourists in swimwear. Not if you ignore tides or weather.
But it is survivable. If you:
- Respect the ocean: Stay WAY back. Waves were sneaky fast.
- Know the tides: That app saved my butt, literally.
- Wear real shoes: Rocks are slippery monsters.
- Check the damn cliffs: No pic is worth a rockslide on your head.
Would I go back? Maybe. Prepared as hell though. Saw some idiot teens climbing the cliffs for selfies. Morons. Place ain’t Disneyland. Call it “Dead End” for a reason. Tides are brutal, cliffs are crumbling, and nature doesn’t care about your Instagram shot. Go prepared or just… don’t go.
