Flopping Around

Surfed a sunny SoCal Sunday at The Cliffs (again!). I'm missing the beach breaks but the reefs have been lighting up over the last few weeks. Didn't surf as well as I wanted to, had a lot of sea water running out of my nose for a day and a half, but well worth it. Got some redemption on a few waves.

Flopping Around from Kookingitup on Vimeo.

Camera: GoPro Hero 3 (1080 @ 60 fps)
Music: "Left My Wallet in El Segundo" Instrumental by Tribe Called Quest.

Sunday Afternoon

Tim looking down the line.

Busted out the GoPro once again at The Cliffs.  I didn't surf as well as I wanted too, taking four spills on some lined up nuggets.  But it was fun and had redemption on a few rides.  The vibe was great as always.  Stoked to have seen so many familiar faces from my side of the County out that way. 

Trying to catch up.

"When the Most Interesting Man in The World surfs..."  ad caption.

Victor going right.

SUP's are alright in SoCal... I guess.

Martiza found one all to herself. 

One wave I didn't f' up.

Getting to the "Sentri Pass Lane"

This is when most people say the famous words, "THIS IS SOME BULLSHIT!'

If you've crossed the border at San Ysidro enough times, than you'll know how confusing and utterly frustrating it can be. My relationship with Tijuana in particular has been one of utter discombobulation.  Tijuana = lost to be more specific.  If you miss a turn, turn the wrong way, follow a sign that says "San Diego" but what it really meant was to "turn right in 40 yards for San Diego", than your lost in the epic circle of trying to find your way back to The States (while The States tease you with it's skyline as you travel lost on top of the foothills of T.J).

The Sentri Pass

Recently, to avoid the mess, I went through the three month process of getting my Sentri Pass.  On Thursday, for the first time, I had my Sentri Pass in hand after a good surf in Baja Malibu and Roberts Reef with a good friend.  I left a little bit late, breaking one of the steadfast rules of not driving at night in Mexico.  Everything was fine when I came to the lanes that led to the San Ysidro Boarder.  I took the "Medical Lane" (for people with enough medical necessity to cross the boarder faster than any of the other lanes) like I was suppose to.  I talked to the guard at the Medical Lane gate who told to me to just "stay left" and I would be in the Sentri Lane.  I stayed left, and all I did was make the loop around the over pass and into that frustrating roundabout that half way through has a sign that says "San Diego" and points straight as you drive around in circles.

Hope this makes it easier...  NOT!

After thirty minutes of looping I guessed the Sentri Pass Lane would be somewhere in the regular boarder lanes that are opposite to the "Medical Lane".  Was I wrong.  I was stuck in regular traffic going back into The States with 20 cars behind me and no way to flip a...  we'll you know.  I talked to some of the merchants who told me for $20 they would clear the lane behind me and take me to the Sentri Pass Lane.  No thanks I replied.  "OK, $15 and I'll throw in this toy bank of Tom Brady!"  No thanks I replied again.

Not even Tom Brady can look as frustrated as I did.

Luckily I had bars on my cell phone from my cell network during my arduous wait.  I looked for instructions on how to get to the Sentri Lane.  And according to Murphy's Law I found a video that showed the step-by-step process on how to get to the Sentri Lane.  After watching this video, I don't know how anybody could have figured it out, even with instructions.  It's a bunch loops, U-turns, traffic, and landmarks instead of signs.  It's like a bug fucking maze!!!  But I did figure that I missed my turn three times.  I saw that final turn, but figured it wasn't the way because the flow of traffic was going somewhere else.  I guess that's why the Sentri Pass is so useful, because one percent of the population has it and traffic, at least most of the time, is non existent in that lane.

Yeah, I still have yet to grace this sign.  But it exists...

So for all of you who have a Sentri Pass or thinking about getting one, memorize this video.  But don't get frustrated that even though you memorized this video you get lost anyway.  It's Tijuana, and by birthright into this lovely place called Earth, you must get lost in Tijuana to earn your wings.  Just don't freak out.

Weekend Warrior to Weekday Warrior

Here is my recent article on "The Inertia".  You can check it out on The Inertia by clicking on this link.

Watching shift changes is part of the charm of surfing daily.

For years, I crossed the bridges of the San Francisco Bay Area and the Santa Cruz Mountains to fulfill my weekly cravings for cold waves and warm stoke. My closest break, Ocean Beach, was 45 minutes away plus $20 for gas and $5 for toll. All week I would check the swell forecasts, hoping that either a “green” or the once in a million “orange” forecast would grace my Saturday or Sunday. I also had to play in the fact that I had responsibilities to take care of which included my wife and family, car payments, rent, errands, gatherings and the occasional seven day work week. I even bought a week of vacation to catch that once in a lifetime swell that never came. To fulfill my dry stoke on weeks where I couldn’t surf, I created a blog where I could mind surf. Besides writing a journal-like escapade of my kook adventures, I created videos that I could watch to recapture lost stoke and photos that I could turn to when the fog that rolled over twin peaks made living dry a bit more dreary. Everything evolved around surfing on the weekends. It was difficult, but once I hit the water, all that “noise” was silenced. “The God-awful difficulty of just paying attention” as William Least Heat-Moon put it, was achieved.

But then came the fortunate turn of events that transformed my 45 minute drive to the beach into a five minute bike ride. Job transfers can be notorious for sending a family to a place landlocked and cold. By sheer luck, my wife’s transfer landed us in Southern California, near some primo surf. My surfing went from two days a week to an average of five. Crowded weekends became mostly uncrowded weekdays. I also had the freedom to reschedule my work around surfing, mostly by subtracting out that long drive.

I also got to know my boards better. Instead of intellectually understanding what having more or less “rocker” means, I now understand how it feels. Through trial and error I understand which of my boards work better during high tide and which ones to use when it’s hollow and draining. Never being a skater, I am coming to understand which of my boards skate better on walls that are rampy and which boards hold a tighter line when it becomes steep and powerful.
I’ve met fellow weekday warriors who surf daily. Each half hour has a different shift of characters. From characters that I’ve seen on magazine covers to the character who only goes left. I know who is their own boss, who’s jobs are more relaxed, who has to be at work on time, and who doesn’t work. How? Because I have a watch. And I get asked for the time a lot.

But it’s not a 24/7 surfing buffet. I still have to earn my keep. I had to give up a lot to become a weekday warrior. Instead of living on salary, I’m living on tips. Instead of a door opening, I have to open doors. When others clock out, I clock in. And because I’m starting on the bottom, I see things differently. Instead of living overly, I’m striving for simplicity. And to strive for simplicity is to become the salt, and when you are the salt, you meet the salt of the earth. With the salt, you struggle, and understand the struggle. Instead of visiting the third world, you become the third world in the first world.

Because I get stoked out on most weekdays, I want to share my stoke with all my stoke understanding friends. And like I said before, when they are clocked in, I’m clocked out. And sharing with your friends now isn’t like it was back in the nineties. Sharing consists of Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. I forget at times that I’m clocked out and others are clocked in.

Presently, It’s weird to paddle out on weekends. There are new faces, new personalities and everybody wants to go right. But there is a joyful sense of stoke, where each woman and man on a longboard has a warm smile, cheerful attitude and contagious laugh. And unlike the weekday community that knows each other because of daily crossings in the surf, most weekend warriors are foreign to each other, but in some aspects, a stronger community. Weekend warriors have what I feel I have lost, the ability to turn off the noise. I think you lose something when you have your favorite dessert almost everyday, and that is what I lost in some respects.

As a once weekend warrior, I hold a responsibility to my weekend warrior brothers and sisters. Because I get to enjoy mostly uncrowded surf during the weekdays, I will try not to surf on the weekends. That is the time for weekend warriors to shine, that’s when they become locals and the rest of us become foreigners. They are entitled to those two precious days where responsibility is put aside and noise cancellation is achieved. They are are the sentinels of the fragile thing that we call stoke. And we all need to share the stoke, even on weekends.

The Eve Session

I really enjoy surfing The Cliffs.  It is a really stoked out community that doesn't mind sharing waves, always has a lot of smiles, and nothing but positivity.  We got some fun swell on Christmas Eve.  Kiwi Hippies Don Corleone and The Burglar, Steve with the awesome accent along with San Clemente Kid and prospect, Paul who joined in on the fun.  The Burglar and I shared THE best party wave ever.  Nothing like a Christmas Party Wave to usher in Christmas day.

The Eve Session from Kookingitup on Vimeo.

Christmas Eve Surf

Wide open spaces.

Surfed The Cliffs with Paul and Steve (not the Steve who share's my B-day with.  But I wish you were there bud).  Got some pretty good pictures of some stoked out peeps with some fun chest high swell.  Merry Christmas everybody!  Have fun with the family, open all those presents and hug the people you love the most.  And be safe.  We still got New Years!

The early morning drop.

Taking flight.

Best Christmas party ever!  That's Kiwi Hippie "The Burglar" on my tail.  All three of us shared with this wave and had a blast doing it!

The fade.

Setting it up.

The left was great this morning.  It kept jacking up as it inched closer to the cliff. 

I'm almost in the way.  But he has it under control.

Deep breath.  Exhale.

Using a bit too much rail there sir.

Sunday at Scripps

Right into the sun.

Took the GoPro out this morning and got a couple shots.  Swell was small, but it looked like that new swell was in the water during a couple sets.  Smelled the bacon and hash browns coming from Coraline's so I left a bit early to grab some brekky with the wifey.  Sorry if I couldn't get some folks in like I promised.

My new little bud, Lil' Mac.

One of the better waves today.

I see this guy out a lot and I give him big props.  If your gonna ride a longboard, ride it right.  Like this guy. 

Another longboarder who rides correct. 

Lil' Mac going right on his sponge.

And the seflish selfie on one of my better rides. 

Lazy Wednesdays

Here is the video that is an addition to the photos from my last blog "Cliff Diving".  Couple of nice rides, good people and great vibes. 

Lazy Wednesday from Kookingitup on Vimeo.

Cliff Diving

Surfed the Cliffs today with Steve.  Had the GoPro and got some great shots. Enjoy and get some waves.  The next few weeks should be pumpin'!

Going the right way.

She forgot to look left cuz Steves on her tail.

Steve about to catch that tail after slapping the lip!

All lined up.

 Video on the way!

Cold and Flat

Shores to the Cove.

The Bearded Bandito and I were pretty stoked on the forecast this morning.  But instead of a medium, fun sized N.W. swell, all we got was a dribbling South.  There were rumors that some of the south facing reefs showing, but I'm a beach break boy, so I stayed put.  Saw Nick in the water paddling around from The Green Wall to The Shores and back to stay warm.  He was disappointed as well.  Instead of trying to surf in a lake, I grabbed the Canon and snapped some pics.

The swell is out there somewhere...

Stop.

The Baja Ferry

On the deck just before landing in Mazatlan

I done some research a few years back around taking the Baja Ferry to Mainland Mexico.  Not the particulars, but what to expect, the adventure, the unknown.  I seen "My Eyes Won't Dry" and remembered the few moments they had on the Baja Ferry.  I was told stories of shake downs, drunk cartel members, robberies and the what nots.  But the only advice that I could remember was a friend telling me to listen for these four words:  "Dos por una cerveza".  So I listened.  Saw.  And understood.  And drank.

Departing from Baja

The Ferry is about 10 miles south of La Paz in this small fishing village named Playa Pichilingue.  The cost for a single person in a two bedroom cabin (what we had) is about $167 USD.  It's much cheaper if you skip the room and sleep in the lounge or deck.  Probably more of an adventure too.  If you're bringing a car, add on another $200.  For more info, check the Baja Ferry website here.

The dining room, where it goes down!

The Baja Ferry offers numerous amenities. From very bad Hollywood movies dubbed in Spanish to the nastiest super nachos ever.  There is also the deck, which is where I spent most of my time, with four beers (remember "Dos por una cerveza"), the smell of salt, sound of the crashing sea, and the air as it breezed warmly against my cheeks.  Besides the deck and the dining room, there is also a "Salon" or lounge where most people sleep and watch T.V. who don't have a room.  Very family like and quiet, people and their loved ones share blankets, hot tamales and tortillas as they sleep the night away on their travels to Mazatlan.

The "Salon"

I spent most of my time on the deck watching the sun fall and rise.  At times it felt like I was on a surfboard, swaying with the sea, smelling that salty, breezy air.   William Least Heat-Moon best described my moments on the deck when he wrote "Since leaving home, I felt for the first time at rest.  Sitting fully in the moment, I practiced on the God-awful difficulty of just paying attention."

Besides practicing the "God-awful difficulty of just paying attention", I met a couple truck drivers  who shared some of their half price cervezas.  These fellas were sweethearts, salt of the earth type bearing the creed of honesty, integrity and sweat stained collars from hours upon hours of driving with no vacation in sight.  Only understanding half of what they said (And they only understanding half of what I could say) we shared our beers and smiles, connecting for short moments in the universal language of "catching a buzz".  But along with the stories and some good laughs, we also shared a sunset that blew our minds and upped our gratitude for living on such a beautiful planet. 

Sunset on the deck.

MC and I shared a two bed bunk with a small bathroom and shower.  The "facilities" in the corridor had more space, so I used those instead.  After the sun went down, I stayed out for an hour more with my new trucker buds.  After a few cervezas, I found my way to my bunk, and plopped on the blankets fully clothed and slept like a baby all through the night.  The sway of the ship probably made me feel like I was in uterus again, safe and warm, ready to be re-born.

Dawn Patrol

I woke up early the next morning, walked out to the deck and watched the sun rise in the east.  I wondered why the boat was heading east that morning since we were suppose to travel west.  And because of obvious reasons, I rather enjoyed traveling east and watching the warm glow of "El Sol" rise in the distance above the soft, swaying clouds.  But after an hour, the sun was high, hot and at our backs as we began making our way to Mazatlan.

Brekky.

Another amenity on the fabulous Baja Ferry is breakfast.  For no charge you will receive a no frills super nacho plate covered with the chefs secret sauce, chorrizo, eggs and re-fried beans.  Seconds are only a few steps away, if you dare finish what was on your plate.  And for 10 pesos you can buy a "fresca" or a coffee.  Sorry vegetarians, this boat can only serve you nachos.  The best thing that I had on the boat was the Tres Leches Cake for dinner.  Probably the best Tres Leches Cake I had on the trip, even better than Sayulita's "Cake Lady".  (Yes Amal, it was better than hers.)

At around noon we met land in Mazatlan.  Thinking that our car was going to come out last, we waited for a few minutes in the lobby for our "level" to be called (we were parked on the third level).  One of the equipment guys came running up and asked for the owner of a "white Toyota".  We raised our hands, and he told us "¡Vamos!" as it was our turn to drive out and we were holding things up.  He lead me down the stairs while MC waited in the lobby (only one person can drive in and out of the cargo bay).  The equipment guy had me feeling like things had to be done A.S.A.P, but within a few seconds I found out that a "A.S.A.P" in Mexico is a bit more relaxed than in the States.  For about fifteen minutes, I stood in a corner with a few truck drivers, small talking while waiting for our turn to drive on out.  When it was my turn, I turned the engine on and inched forward to daylight and the path before us.  As one check was etched off my bucket list, one more, unplanned, was before me.  
 

Bye Bye Ferry

 PS.  If you missed any legs of the trip so far, click on the leg that you missed!

1.  Tijuana to El Rosario
2.  El Rosario to Mulege
3.   Mulege to Cerritos
4.  Four Days In Los Cerritos: Part I
5.  Four Days In Los Cerritos: Part II

Next Blog:  "The Nayarit Part I"

Four Days In Los Cerritos (Part II)

Adventure in Baja is only a thumbs up away.  Here's what I mean:  I was a bit stranded in Pescadero after having a cup a joe at Baja Beans (B.D. recommended).  After an hour of too much Twitter and Facebook checking/updating, and no ride home, I decided to hitch hike back to Los Cerritos.  The surf was good and I knew I had to get back to get some more of that warm, pumping, wetness.  After 10 minutes of holding my thumb out, I was picked up by a Salsipuede from Connecticut and his buddy, a true local.  Nice guys, they even invited me over for a barbecue, but I couldn't oblige, I had surf to tend to.  They dropped me off at the dirt road just off the autopista that leads to Los Cerritos.  After taking ten steps down the road, a white rental car with two Si Se Puedes' offered me a ride to the beach.  How lucky can a bro get!  These two fellas were sweethearts.  We talked about good beer, bird dogging, and life.  After a few brewskys  at the bar, they recommended that I take visit over to  "Art & Beer".

That's Alfredo above, who runs Art and Beer with his partner, Lourdes.  He kept me, Steve and Andreas hostage.  Yes, literally, not figuratively.  While Alfredo made our drinks we took a walk around his back yard.  We walked on his homemade promenade, which is about five feet off the ground.  His back yard was full of exotic plants, cactus and funky art.  Now and then we would run into corners where there would be shade, a table and a couple of chairs.  On the walls that held up the small roofs, Polaroids of Alfredo with either a celebrity or a beautiful woman would appear.

Art and Beer's promenade. 

Within twenty minutes we heard our name and grabbed our Margaritas.  Huge tall glasses were filled to the rim.  The alcohol content was more than half of whatever fruit was mixed in.  Within ten minutes of sipping and eating some of the tasters that Alfredo brought out, we were buzzing.  But the time was about 3pm, and I needed to get ready to surf.  I wasn't going to S.U.I., or Surf Under the Influence, that's not my thing.  So I left my drink half full.  I asked for the bill and Alfredo said "No, no puede pagar hasta que termine su bebida!"  (You cannot leave until you finish your drink!) I explained my situation and he replied "¿Qué? No se puede terminar una bebida chica? ¿Eres una niña?" (What?  You can't finish that little girl drink?  Are you a little girl or something?)  'Hell no! I'm not a little girl' is what I thought.  So I took that Mango Margarita and downed it like a champ.  "There you go bro, where's my check!"  Alfredo looked at me with a sinister little smile and picked up what was left in the blender and continued to pour it into my glass, filling it half full.  If I was at the club and had Jennifer Lawrence posted up next to me, I'd be good with what Alfredo just pulled.  But I wanted to surf sober, and for good surf, I'd even leave Jennifer Lawrence hanging.   With an eager and challenging tone in his voice, Alfredo said "Termine eso, niña!"  (Finish that, you little girl!)

It looks tasty, but it creeps up on you and bam!  Your S.U.I.'ing.

With the world watching, I slowly drank the 80% tequila'd "girl" drink.  After I was done, and totally buzzed, I looked Alfredo in the eyes and said "Finito!"  Another sinister smile appeared on Alfredo's face as he slowly turned around and went to his refrigerator.  He grabbed three Red Stripes for the three of us, popped the tops off with his hands, and in English said "Pay after you finish".  Yeah, I ended up S.U.I.'ing that day. 

We stayed in the "Cerrtios Surf Colony", which is directly on the beach.  The place is pretty awesome, two stories, two and a half bathrooms, full kitchen and living room.  But the upstair rooms were filled with this green dust.  The managers explained that it was non toxic and caused by a bug eating the thatched roofs.  To say the least, I didn't sleep much and by the third day I got tired of cleaning green stuff of my luggage.  I actually hid my stuff in the closet from the green dust.  MC tried to get us another room, but we were stuck.  They did send somebody to clean everyday, a very nice gal that I would greet "Hola Guapa" to every morning after returning from the surf.  But the green stuff just kept falling.  Would I recommend this place?   That's tough to say, the green stuff made it unbearable at times.  But really, who gives a shit when your there less than a quarter of the time and just steps from the beach.  I just filed the annoyance under "first world problems" as anybody, including the friends I made down that way would have loved to have stayed there.

Juan the life Guard

I met Juan in the water the second day I was out.  I had my GoPro stuck in my mouth and he would paddle by, with a big 'ol smile throwing up a shaka sign.  I figured out on the third day that he was the lifeguard of the beach during the weekends, which started Thursday and ended on Sunday.  Lifeguards in surfing are our patrons, from Eddie Aikau to Brian Keaulana.  They know their breaks the best, they are the locals above all locals and the surf historians of the past and present in their designated communities.  And Juan is exactly that.  Juan really welcomed me into his community and within three days, I felt as if I was family.  No other place, other than the Big Island, have I felt so much warmth and connection with a community, and it was all thanks to Juan.  And not only is he the patron of Los Cerritos, but he is probably on of the two best surfers on that beach.  The best surfer on the beach is his younger brother, Carlos.   

Carlos finished 12th at the Mexican Surf Nationals in Rosarito in 2013

Simply, Carlos rips.  He has a blend of speed and raw power when he surfs.  He also has that "latin flow".  I see that a lot in the Latin surfing community, this certain fluidity, as if the surfer is moving to music, dancing with the wave, loose and unrobotic, as if they are going for it all, but with grace.  I've witnessed this type of "flow"in grown men down in El Salvador to groms in Punta Mida.  Carlos has that.  In addition, his air game is unbelievable.  I saw him almost pull off a full rodeo.  In other times, I saw him pull of a backside three sixty and other aerial moves effortlessly.  One day, while I had the camera on, Juan sat there with me rooting on his brother on each wave, predicting his next moves.  Juan appeared more than a big brother that day.  He resembled a proud coach and in some cases, a proud father.  Juan is a great surfer and likely coached Carlos, and Carlos appears to have transcended all the things Juan taught him.  But Juan is first and foremost a big brother, and non transparently, always watching out for Carlos, making sure that he has it better then him in every way, giving up his surfing dreams and putting all his hopes for the future in Carlos.   

"O.K. Boys!  See that wave....  That wave is ming!!!"

Your probably wondering who that guy is with the beer. Well, that's Lukan.  I met him while in the water, as he claimed each wave by announcing "That wave is ming!"  We started trading waves after our first session together, he would take the lefts and I would go right, but the lefts were way funner, so he eventually had to shares those too.  Back in the day, Lukan was a professional BMX rider, sponsored and all.  He toured the States, participated in exhibitions, and even became a regular performer during Laker and Clipper half time shows.  He lived in San Diego for a decade after he got tired of crossing the San Ysidro over and over again for work.  And than at age 16, he learned how to surf at Imperial Beach. But as he grew older, he got tired of the cold water and June gloom and decided to move to Baja Sur for warmer weather and warmer waves.  He eventually bought a home there and now surfs (proudly) four hours each day.

Besides surfing, Lukan owns a Baja surf map company and is opening up his own Torta Shop that will serve a special El Pastor, a family recipe handed down to him.  He also became one of my best buds.  From crashing weddings to drinking down some Modelos, Lukan became a homey for life.  We even had our code words like "Gaviotan" which means Seagull.  Seagulls love to pick up left overs, as do surfers that cut others off and blatantly snake.  So if he caught you snaking a regular, you were the "Gaviotan" for the day, and you didn't want to be that guy.  We even acted as a team in the water, staying close and splitting a-framers, Lukan having the priority on the lefts and me on the rights.  But what I appreciate the most about Lukan is how he watched out for me and others in the lineup.  He is the big brother, the "O.G." of the lineup.  He's seen, lived and survived it all and everybody respects that about him.  But he also has this sinister but hilarious sense of humor that is contagious.  If every lineup in the world had a Lukan, the world would be a better place.

Everywhere I've ever gone, I have always learned lessons from the people that I met, even before surfing.  And the lesson that I learned from my friends in Los Cerritos was "opportunity" and where it can lead.  Lukan told me the story about how he became a Pro BMX rider.  A promoter came to his hometown and asked for volunteers for an exhibition which was going to be far from his home.  There were better riders than him, some older and some younger, but the thought of leaving their home petrified them.   Lukan, being a scroungy grom at the time, was the only one to raise his hand, jumping at the opportunity for a better life.  A lot of the guys that I met out that way have done the same, jumping at opportunities without a clear path, and most of the times with blind faith.  And a lot of the times, it didn't work out, and in some cases, still trying to work itself out.  But they did it, alone, and now, they have each other.  Opportunity brought them all together.  And that is more than one could ever ask for.

Community.  Family. The two things I think we all search for.

But all good things must come to a close and before we knew it, we were on our way to La Paz to jump on the Baja Ferry to Mazatlan.  I didn't get to formerly say goodbye to two guys that made my experience in Los Cerritos worthwhile, Lukan and Carlos.  I remember Lukan telling me that he likes to have a beer after his sessions in front of a store in Pescadero.  We drove to the store, and there sitting on the stoop was Lukan.  Lukan and I said our goodbyes, and like the O.G./ big brother he is, told us unequivocally "DO NOT DRIVE AT NIGHT OVER THERE!"  That's Lukan, always looking out.  I gave Lukan a note I had written on the back of a Harry's Diner sticker for Carlos, as I was unable to find him at Los Cerritos.  And then we were off, driving east to La Paz.  And as I left this part of Baja, so did I leave a piece of myself that can only be retrieved with a return.  Which will be soon.

Next Blog:  The Ferry