San Diego has always been a city of hidden stories — murmured in the spaces between sun-bleached bungalows, whispered over backyard fences, and now, increasingly, shouted into the digital void of neighborhood apps. And nowhere are these narratives more brutally and hilariously exposed than on Nextdoor, the social media platform that has become the city's most unfiltered confessional.
Ah, Black’s Beach…our very own French Riviera. Tucked beneath the cliffs of Torrey Pines, this infamous stretch of sand has been San Diego’s premier clothing-optional beach since the 1970s — when it was, for a little while, the only public nude beach in the country. Originally a secluded surf haven, it long ago became a refuge for those who prefer their sunbathing without the hassle of tan lines. Everybody knows this. Well, not everybody. Definitely not a particular El Cajon mom who journeyed from the wilds of East County all the way to the North County coast. This is what comes of extending the 52 all the way to Santee.
The Original Post
“So… Black’s Beach… Apparently, I’m the only adult in San Diego that didn’t know what it is. I made the mistake of taking 2 of my kiddos and 1 of my kids’ friends. There really needs to be some kind of warning or heads up…. 🤦🏽♀️”
Comments/Observations
1. Kevin: “Why would anyone go there on a whim? Not that I would know or anything, but it’s extremely difficult to climb down that hill.”
You don't fool me, El Cajon Karen! This whole misadventure — that is, if you even ever really took the trip, you Nexdoor attention whore — was a carefully crafted assault on freedom, gussied up in dubious Won't Somebody Think of the Children? rhetoric. Not that I would know, because I'm not some kind of pervert weirdo, but you don't just walk into Mordor, and you don't just wander onto Black's Beach.
2. Stephen: “I love walking that beach, but you never know what you’ll find. One time, I saw a nudist family with a sign announcing their nudist group. It was a bit much, but hey, they seemed happy.”
You never know what you'll find? It's one of the largest and most famous nude beaches in the world. I have a pretty good idea what you'll find. Though I'll admit a family is a bit surprising. There goes your argument that the place isn't family-friendly.
3. Jessie: “My husband and I go there so we don’t have to listen to kids screaming and it’s less crowded. The old naked dudes don’t bother us.”
Guess Jessie and hubby don't set up by the nudist family in the previous comment. The only thing worse than screaming children? Naked screaming children.
4. Jennifer: “I would take old naked people over screeching children any day of the week! Kids ruin everything!”
Grok, please draw me a picture of Jennifer fleeing a pack of screeching children and seeing refuge behind a comforting squad of old naked people. Be sure to leave a trail of devastation and destruction in the wake of the screeching children.
5. Charles Davis: “YOU GO TO BLACKS BEACH AND YOU BRING US BACK PICTURES OF SIGNS. WRONG PICTURES TO SHARE.”
Dude, maybe you should, you know, read the sign? (Available here.)

6. Samuel Douglass: “We need to immediately warn people that penises exist.”
Well, that's pretty much what this does, right? So maybe...yeah?

Personally, I feel for Karen, especially since one of the kids wasn't hers — she's got some splainin' to do! Next time, maybe she should stay closer to home. It's not like El Cajon doesn't offer its own brand of excitement. Consider the 2017 Bacon Bandit, caught stealing bacon from a local grocery store and seemingly surprised that anybody objected. Or the infamous 2019 Goat Rampage, in which an escaped goat caused chaos, knocking over trash cans and frightening pedestrians. El Cajon also gave us an unforgettable “Bank Robbery or Dance Off?” incident in 2014, in which a dancing man in a chicken costume walked into a bank, confusing both costumers and tellers, who were certain it was a hold-up situation. But when the police arrived, they learned that he just wanted to show off his sweet dance moves. In a bank.
East County or North Coast, chaos reigns.
San Diego has always been a city of hidden stories — murmured in the spaces between sun-bleached bungalows, whispered over backyard fences, and now, increasingly, shouted into the digital void of neighborhood apps. And nowhere are these narratives more brutally and hilariously exposed than on Nextdoor, the social media platform that has become the city's most unfiltered confessional.
Ah, Black’s Beach…our very own French Riviera. Tucked beneath the cliffs of Torrey Pines, this infamous stretch of sand has been San Diego’s premier clothing-optional beach since the 1970s — when it was, for a little while, the only public nude beach in the country. Originally a secluded surf haven, it long ago became a refuge for those who prefer their sunbathing without the hassle of tan lines. Everybody knows this. Well, not everybody. Definitely not a particular El Cajon mom who journeyed from the wilds of East County all the way to the North County coast. This is what comes of extending the 52 all the way to Santee.
The Original Post
“So… Black’s Beach… Apparently, I’m the only adult in San Diego that didn’t know what it is. I made the mistake of taking 2 of my kiddos and 1 of my kids’ friends. There really needs to be some kind of warning or heads up…. 🤦🏽♀️”
Comments/Observations
1. Kevin: “Why would anyone go there on a whim? Not that I would know or anything, but it’s extremely difficult to climb down that hill.”
You don't fool me, El Cajon Karen! This whole misadventure — that is, if you even ever really took the trip, you Nexdoor attention whore — was a carefully crafted assault on freedom, gussied up in dubious Won't Somebody Think of the Children? rhetoric. Not that I would know, because I'm not some kind of pervert weirdo, but you don't just walk into Mordor, and you don't just wander onto Black's Beach.
2. Stephen: “I love walking that beach, but you never know what you’ll find. One time, I saw a nudist family with a sign announcing their nudist group. It was a bit much, but hey, they seemed happy.”
You never know what you'll find? It's one of the largest and most famous nude beaches in the world. I have a pretty good idea what you'll find. Though I'll admit a family is a bit surprising. There goes your argument that the place isn't family-friendly.
3. Jessie: “My husband and I go there so we don’t have to listen to kids screaming and it’s less crowded. The old naked dudes don’t bother us.”
Guess Jessie and hubby don't set up by the nudist family in the previous comment. The only thing worse than screaming children? Naked screaming children.
4. Jennifer: “I would take old naked people over screeching children any day of the week! Kids ruin everything!”
Grok, please draw me a picture of Jennifer fleeing a pack of screeching children and seeing refuge behind a comforting squad of old naked people. Be sure to leave a trail of devastation and destruction in the wake of the screeching children.
5. Charles Davis: “YOU GO TO BLACKS BEACH AND YOU BRING US BACK PICTURES OF SIGNS. WRONG PICTURES TO SHARE.”
Dude, maybe you should, you know, read the sign? (Available here.)

6. Samuel Douglass: “We need to immediately warn people that penises exist.”
Well, that's pretty much what this does, right? So maybe...yeah?

Personally, I feel for Karen, especially since one of the kids wasn't hers — she's got some splainin' to do! Next time, maybe she should stay closer to home. It's not like El Cajon doesn't offer its own brand of excitement. Consider the 2017 Bacon Bandit, caught stealing bacon from a local grocery store and seemingly surprised that anybody objected. Or the infamous 2019 Goat Rampage, in which an escaped goat caused chaos, knocking over trash cans and frightening pedestrians. El Cajon also gave us an unforgettable “Bank Robbery or Dance Off?” incident in 2014, in which a dancing man in a chicken costume walked into a bank, confusing both costumers and tellers, who were certain it was a hold-up situation. But when the police arrived, they learned that he just wanted to show off his sweet dance moves. In a bank.
East County or North Coast, chaos reigns.