Black's Beach

Black's Beach is a secluded section of beach beneath the bluffs of Torrey Pines on the Pacific Ocean in La Jolla, San Diego, California, United States. It is officially part of Torrey Pines State Beach. The northern portion of Black's Beach is owned and managed by the California Department of Parks and Recreation, while the southern portion of the beach, officially known as Torrey Pines City Beach, is jointly owned by the city of San Diego and the state park, but is managed by the city of San Diego. This distinction is important as Black’s Beach is most known as a nude beach, a practice that is no longer permitted in the southern portion managed by the city of San Diego. There is no trash collection here.

Black's Beach was named for the Black family who had a horse farm overlooking the beach. They sold the land, and then it was subdivided into La Jolla Farms lots. The Farm's residents retained the Black family’s private road to the beach. Many mansions can be seen in the southern portion of the beach, including the Salk Mansion. There is a funicular that goes all the way down to the beach into a structure known by locals as the mushroom house.

A submarine canyon funnels swells into Black's Beach, making it appealing to surfers but dangerous for inexperienced swimmers. Usually, lifeguards are at the beach until 6pm, from spring break until October. Due to budget cuts, lifeguard patrols were limited but have increased because of funding by UCSD. Dolphins can be spotted swimming along the coast. Stingrays can be found along the coast line when the water gets above 50 degrees.

Read more about Black's Beach:  Location, Nude Beach, Surfing, Access

Famous quotes containing the words black and/or beach:

    Civil Rights: What black folks are given in the U.S. on the installment plan, as in civil-rights bills. Not to be confused with human rights, which are the dignity, stature, humanity, respect, and freedom belonging to all people by right of their birth.
    Dick Gregory (b. 1932)

    They will tell you tough stories of sharks all over the Cape, which I do not presume to doubt utterly,—how they will sometimes upset a boat, or tear it in pieces, to get at the man in it. I can easily believe in the undertow, but I have no doubt that one shark in a dozen years is enough to keep up the reputation of a beach a hundred miles long.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)