Sayulita Report

Yeah, that was paradise. The Surf Trip to Sayulita was a definite highlight, much like Mark M's SnowCat Bachelor Party, or The North Ridge of Stuart, or Orbit+Outer Space in a day, or the Seattle Marathon, or RAMROD. I think I need to have at least one kickass experience like this per year. It reminds me of what life is really about. (hint: _not_ software!)

Of course, my choice of traveling companion pretty much guaranteed the trip would turn out well. Jay is not only the ultimate optimist, but he's incredibly open to trying or doing anything. So what if he's never surfed before? He's been wanting to try it for a while. And his openness extends to everyone and everything around him. It was impossible to walk into a bar or restaurant with Jay and not walk out with some new friends. He is very engaging with everyone, where I am very private, and as a result the trip was a lot more entertaining than it would have been alone. Plus, the added bonus of travelling with a friend that's known me for almost 20 years and gives me shit for all of it makes it that much more fun.

The village of Sayulita is sort of built up, but nothing like Puerto Vallarta. The roads are still dirt, the roosters are still game for the 3am wake up, and the vibe is supremely mellow. Despite the whole narcoterrorista thing in Mexico, Sayulita felt very safe. I saw lots of couples with infants and toddlers tooling around. And the dogs were well fed, mellow, and plentiful.

The food is killer. We found many restaurants that were incredibly simple, El Bicho, La Casita, Fish Taco, etc, but whose food was amazingly fresh and tasty. All for about $6 per person. Most of our money went on froofy drinks, next time I'm going to just drink beer and save a lot of $$.

We fell into a good rhythm. Wake up, get coffee, check out the waves, get a board for an hour session in the AM, ride/get thumped until we were exhausted (yep, about an hour), catch a great brunch somewhere in town, head back to the casita, pass out, wake up, get an afternoon session in, shower up, head out for a sunset viewing (see above picture), get a good buzz on, fall asleep, wake up at 3AM to roosters, mating cats, rowdy dogs, and pass in and out of unconsciousness until 9am, where we hit the repeat button. It was like a very good version of Groundhog Day.

The week started out out with some _thumping_ waves, steep, big (overhead), fast, and relentless. Not good for a guy who hasn't been surfing for 6 years :) And poor Jay was getting hammered out there. Of course, this is nothing compared to ultra running or an ironman, so he was just having a good time. After 3 days of getting cleaned, the next 3 days were good for the soul. The waves backed off, built more slowly, and broke predictably. I know that an experienced surfer would have been thriving in the first three days, but it was an ass kicking, in the funnest sense of the word.

After the waves backed off, our senses were so ninja honed by the steep and fast sets of the past couple of days, that riding the mellower waves was deliciously easy. I can't actually describe what riding a wave feels like, other than timeless. Wait. Let me try:

When it all goes right, I see the wave coming, I'm in the right spot, the wave picks me up and I slide down the face. I'm arching back and paddling, putting all of my weight in my belly to make sure the board doesn't pearl or fall off the back of the wave (this is where my natural weight distribution may have favored me :) The board starts to glide faster and something inside of me says to stand up, so I do. Then, I'm moving across the face of the wave. I hear a slight ripping sound as the wave breaks behind me and to my side. For that brief moment everything stops and I'm standing there, and the world moves around me. I ride the face of the wave, it's better than the deepest endless pow day in the mountains because it's truly bottomless. Sometimes I ride past, between, around people, they all smile up at me, they know the stoke. Then it's over. All sound comes back, the wave is done, it's time to kick out, or just fall off the board, so I do. I paddle back out, and wait for the next one.

I love the vibe around Sayulita. The people are extremely friendly. They take my hacked up Spanish and body language and make the best of it. We rented our boards from Sayulita Surf Camp, which is a bunch of local hardcore surfers trying to make a go of it. It felt good to support locals, and they were very, very cool to us.

Coming back has been rough. I picked up a cold before I went down, and the January water temp and cold air temp (down to mid 50s at night and in the am) didn't help. I also picked up a bit of a stomach virus, ironically by eating fast food in the airport. And then I spent a week in lame ass Santa Clara at the Strata Conference, a great conference where I didn't get outside for 3 days because the information inside was so good (I'm not being sarcastic, it was a kickass conference).

Sometimes I wonder if I should actually figure out a way to head down there instead of grinding it out up here. I don't know. I might get bored in paradise. I have this mental itch that needs scratching, quite a bit. Oh, and then there's the family....they've got a life up here, I cant just change it up like that and assume they are on board. But I do want to get down there again with Lopa and the kids. Maybe when they're a little older, so she won't be so stressed about everything going perfect.

There. That's all my thoughts for now. Other than the fact that I haven't run for about 3 weeks, have put on about 5 lbs of goo from eating conference food, and am still working some crud out of my lungs. The next month is going to be all about rebuilding. But it was so, so worth it!