 |
| Me and SUV - Surfer Ultrarunner Van? |
Prologue
After a week in Hawaii, who doesn’t need a break, am I right? Actually, part of this trip was planned months ago for a weekend race in San Diego known as the Suck. But with my recent funemployment and not having really taken advantage of it, my wife suggested I spend a few extra days and surf down in Baja. Bless her heart. My trail running was on a tear but took a hiatus while in Hawaii. Somehow I found surfing at Waikiki and Pipeline more entertaining than running. Who would’ve thought? Maybe during this week going south, I could do both. The plan was to run and surf my way down, doing the Suck along the way.
Embarking on a week-long solo journey is surely about more than the destinations, and more than about the terrestrial distance covered. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, where I had the combination of relative youth, health and adult financial resources. It wasn’t a midlife crisis, but it was a midlife opportunity that I was not going to pass up. Although it was still to be relatively short, it would be a trip to remember.
Part One.
 |
| Overlooking Steamer Lane, Santa Cruz |
The best laid plans of mice and men, go oft awry… Typical for me, I had plotted out itineraries and supplies. I waited until a day or two prior to departure before committing to it, waiting for weather and surf forecasts. It was to be a run/surf adventure due to the smallish surf in the first half of the trip, picking up in the second half, but starting with a quick so-so surf outing just 30 minutes from home in Santa Cruz. Ninety minutes at Steamer Lane, one of California’s premier surf breaks produced fun 3-4 foot waves on a very uncrowded midweek morning. A fantastic start to the trip, to be followed by trail running and camping, then went awry.
Getting out of the water, a mere two hours after leaving home, I received an urgent message that my sick puppy, Luigi, wasn’t sick, but was instead dying, bleeding internally from cancer. We adopted Luigi three and a half years ago. We were told he was at least 13, had been a stray, and had rotted away all but four teeth. We felt that although he may not have much time left, he should have a home, not be stuck in a shelter. We expected a few months based on how slowly he moved when we got him, but his health quickly improved. Maybe Luigi was younger than they thought and he’d last many years. And so he was until four days ago. Moving slower than usual and hesitant to eat, he improved on the second day but worsened on the third. We were not prepared for this news - he’d likely not make it another day. The humane thing to do was to euthanize him. So rushing to the vet from Santa Cruz, I held him for the next few hours until he was laid to rest. Luigi, like his predecessor and accidental doppelgänger, Louiedog, both with a crescent bite out of their right ears, went to forever sleep in my arms. Luigi, long may you rest next to the fireplace in doggie heaven.
 |
| Luigi - you will be loved, always and forever |
I stayed home that day and departed the next day, now with any planned itinerary out the window. On a lark, I made my first stop at the Steinbeck Museum in Salinas. Steinbeck has long been my favorite author, primarily for Cannery Row, but also Travels with Charley, Mice and Men as well as Grapes of Wrath. On my to-read list now, Tortilla Flat, East of Eden. Steinbeck was such a prolific author that I’m beginning to think that he, not Trump, knows the best words.
Next on my list was to run in the Pinnacles National Park. Not sure why. I expected some interesting rocks but was overwhelmed by the vistas and the scale of interesting rock formations. The vistas in spring were amazing and the caves were an unexpected treat. I thought I lost the trail and came to a dead end in cave, but was later informed by passing hikers that the park brochure clearly describes this tunnel trail requiring headlamps. Ok, idiot, back into the cave using my phone for a light and I finally spotted the small arrows pointing the way. Awesome.
 |
| Post-run, looking out for condors - and condor droppings |
Continuing south, I made it to the Morro Bay area with enough time to reassure myself that there would be camping spots available, and then to surf nearby at Cayucos. $35 for the privilege of sleeping in my van. Thanks, but… no thanks? But what choice do I have? As bad as the day was yesterday, today was reasonably groovy - an unplanned stop to the Steinbeck Museum, unexpected adventures in Pinnacles and fun, albeit icy, surf. Grilled salmon over an open fire and boil-in-bag rice for dinner. Yum.
 |
| Cayucos Pier |
 |
| Morro Bay Campground |
I “found” Wendla in Morro Bay. I started the trip with Spot as my companion but she was providing consolation services after Luigi died and got left behind the next day. Besides, at this point, Spot probably reminds my daughter of me as much as she reminds me of my daughter. She and Wendla could trade places going forward.
I stayed in the Morro Bay area for a good part of the next day as well. Surfing again in Cayucos. Mountain biking in Morro Bay. Hiking at Spooner Cove and up Valencia peak at Montaña del Oro State Park. It’s cold but very beautiful here. Looks like Hawaii, feels like Alaska.
 |
| The rewards of mountain biking |
 |
| Spooner Cove, Montana Del Oro |
 |
| Valencia Peak |
Reluctantly, I started heading south, crossing the Great (Traffic) Barrier Reef, otherwise known as Los Angeles, from 7 to 9 PM, landing at my brothers house in Newport Beach. Two or three days, depending on how you’re counting, and I’d only gone from Los Gatos to Newport Beach. At this rate, the Dodgers might actually win a game before I get home.
With an early start the next morning, and an incoming south swell, that could only mean one thing - San Clemente. For me, it was a stop at Old Man’s because, well, isn’t it obvious? It’s an unusual break in that it most resembles Waikiki - long, gentle rolling waves. And now that we’re south of Point Conception, the water is 8 F warmer, making all the difference in the world. The surf was very similar, though much larger than we had in Hawaii the week prior. 2-3 ft, maybe more, but gentle rollers were just what I needed.
 |
| San Onofre, Old Man's |
Squalo. That’s Italian for “shark”. An Italian surfer spotted it first and then a half dozen surfers on the outside simultaneously paddled in. I got a wave as the surfers were coming in. After I got to shore, I learned it was only 5 ft long, a baby, puppy squalo. So back in the water I went.
The drive to San Diego is blessed with the weekend traffic jam, starting before Oceanside and lasting through Carlsbad, adding 20 minutes to my trip. LA, meet SD. Your disciple is now the master.
After a quick stop at Leucadia Donuts, it was time to head to my home break of Swami’s in Encinitas. Already surfed out, seeing a barefoot runner on the wide low tide beaches gave me some bad ideas. I jogged just a few miles on the sand to Cardiff and back. Now my calf was cramping. Great. And the blisters I got two days ago had sand in them. Even better.
 |
| Swami's and its treeheads |
 |
| Swami's! |
If you’re ever looking for that prototypical California beach hippie enviro, head to Swami’s. A resident hippie excitedly described how his clock got stuck at 4:20 and it was so “awesome!” Cooling off from the run and now making conversation with said hippie, I convinced myself to actually surf at my home surf break. It wasn’t such a bad idea. 2-3 ft, long peeling right handers, I kept dropping, turning, stalling, walking up and down my longboard and repeating over and over. Exhausted, I took my final wave all the way to the sand, turning, speeding, trimming, stalling and nose riding until I gracefully stepped off the board onto the sand in front of the captivated eyes of a pair of tourists. They weren’t tourists per se, but they were planning on moving from Arizona, now enchanted by the possibility to take up surfing. After seeing my sick moves, who wouldn’t be? Ha ha.
Back up the stairs and right back into conversations with not one but two full time hippies (keep in mind this is still a weekday afternoon). Encinitas. I nearly convinced myself to spent an extra night in town and surf Swami’s again in the morning, such is the pull of home’s calling. But seeing as it was already 3 pm, and I had made it all of 50 miles since morning, I thought I should get motivated and push on to Baja.
Comments
Post a Comment