Okay, so now I understand.
As John and I walked down to one of the beaches, I said, "so, if a tsunami hit RIGHT NOW, we would die." (And I wonder where Bryce gets his morbid outlook.) John looked at me, unconcerned and deliriously calm from hours of driving through such intense and seemingly neverending beauty and said, "yeah. Because it would be too late." We looked at each other for another few seconds, looked back at the vastness that we'd spent the past day and a half getting to, and the past six months planning to get to, and walked toward the dangerously gorgeous hypnosis that is the Pacific Ocean.