Sombra a Sombra

Hump day had PC and I back on the tennis court at 7:30am without tennis balls and without anybody else showing up. Nice way to start the day. I had no choice but to put up the ‘Gone Surfin’ sign.

Loaded myself up with sunscreen, made myself barefoot, grabbed my board, and did that 1.25 mile jaunt to the beach break. The surf had picked up. The lesson today was just a reminder lesson from all my previous lessons out here at MexPipe: Stay clear of the lip. This place unloads! It’s a fight that you won’t ever win.

I entered the water just as Will was paddling out with his 8’6 gun. He wasn’t going to surf it though. It wasn’t nearly big enough for Will. He was going to have a paddle to the La Punta and back in preparation for Todos. The water was very warm. I surfed “far bar” with my friend Mark from Bodega Bay. He’s a big blonde fisherman that rides a big board. I was stung several times by what is known as Malagua. It’s the oceans version of the “No-See-Em”. A jelly fish of sorts I suppose, although I never saw em‘.

I would have loved a bigger board out there today, but not quite ready to break it out just yet. The bigger the board, the less manipulation you have with it. Duck diving around here is imperative if you know what is good for you. Needless, I stayed out of harms way, although I had a few “Mother Mary” moments. Learned a lot. Had fun. Didn’t get hurt. End of story.

Ran home in the hot sun. On the way, I briefly stopped and watched in awe as some dude in Puma sweats and a Rasta beanie was sitting in the sand, juggling a soccer ball. Yes…he was sitting. His control with the ball was off the charts. After about a minute without letting it hit the sand, I shook my head in disbelief, gave him the whistle and the pointed finger, and carried on. Got back to the tree around 10:30am and did some writing.

At 2pm, bouncing from shade to shade, I ran down to the ocean with a swim fin in my hand. I had to run past a couple of Federalis with machetes & machine guns, but I knew the drill~Don’t look them in the eye, and Don‘t say a word. I darted across the scalding sand. It was my first time busting out my swim fin. Without a fin, it’s not wise to go past where you can touch sand bottom. With some fins, you can pull into big closeout barrels so long as you know how to brace yourself for the massive implosion. I relied on all my summer days as a youth logged at Newport’s Wedge & Victoria Beach, Laguna.(Shout out to Dev..Unome)

On my way back, I had a chat with a talkative 18y/o worker boy and a shy 12y/o worker kid, both digging a ditch, and both barefoot. My severely broken Spanish is good enough to tell them that although they could make more money in the States, that the $100 Timberland boots, the $8 lunch at Panda Express, and every other little fucking thing they would need to own, would put them right back to square one. Es seguro que hay mas dinero hacer en los Estados, pero todos las pinche cosas es muy caro. En el fin de semana, tu cartera es el mismo. Entiendes? They understood perfectly. All the kids are still very curious about life in the States.

I hung around the tree(pun) until about six. Ran back to the beach and did 30 minutes of ball work, this time in the high sand. Brutal! Lots of dogs starting to make their evening rounds. Observed the squid fisherman throwing weighted nets into the shore break. Took in the sunset and headed home. Ate like a king and then watched Obama’s State of the Union Address on [PC’s Mac]–I was waiting to say that. Started a new book called The Memory of Running.