The wind increased. The horizon turned blue and the air was filled with the sound of the waves against the beach front. By reaching the Caribbean, I had crossed the North American continent from salt water to salt water. It felt good to be back on a coastal cycle. Anywhere and everywhere could be a camp spot. Each upcoming town would be filled with endless choices of cheap seafood restaurants. The sun would rise across the Caribbean horizon and would set in the westward surrounding jungle.
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