I’m not saying we’re branching out just yet, but the thought has been floated of adding an “S” to our initials and a surfboard to our logo. As we already have a surfer among the founding members of the D&C, the concept was not so outlandish.
After leaving Cabo Pulmo, and enjoying the wild dirt road ride, we were in succession a little disappointed by San Jose Del Cabo and hugely disappointed by Cabo San Lucas. Well, to be honest, as far as San Lucas went, it was pretty much what we expected. Lots of tourists, lots of junky souvenir shops, agressive restaurant hawking and some pretty shady looking strip joints (like you needed a tetanus shot just looking at the door). Anyways those places weren’t quite our vibe (San Jose is really different, less touristy, but it’s not so much of a water front town and a lot of it was under construction, and there was, at first glance little reason to stay), so we hit the road jack to our next stop a day early, the surfing beach of Los Cerritos.
Wow, what a beautiful beach and what beautiful waves. Big and loud enough to keep you up by stretches at night if you sleep with all the windows open. I’m not a surfer by any stretch, but looking at the long even rolling waves I had no trouble understanding why on that Sunday the water, and the beach, was crowded with surfers and people rocking out to tam-tams (I guess there is no accounting for taste). The waves were intimidating, but I could hear Johnny Utah’s voice, silent all those years, speaking to me:
“You can do this, you will surf.”
Funny how a movie watched and rewatched thirty years ago can motivate you. Throw in The North Shore, Endless Summer 1 & 2, and you pretty much have a wannabe surfer. It will be no surprise that the next morning, as I was standing in the waves pretty much lost in their rhythm, a real voice behind me, one I could actually hear, said:
“Are you ready to surf?”
I turned around and met Jorge, a guy that looked like he had been staying on the beach for a while and making a living renting out boards and giving lessons. Of course that’s just what he did. There were two tents up the beach, behind a bunch of boards and a small tribe was gathered there. There was a cooking fire going and nobody was wearing a shirt. We agreed on an amount and a very approximative time, this was a surfer beach after all, and shook hands.
Looked like I was about to break my point after all. And I did. Repeatedly.
I was never foolish enough to think that surfing would be easy, but it was even harder than that. The only time I looked half good was on the dry sand practicing getting up on the board. Booyah, I rocked that part.
The experience was fantastic (I mean once I actually made it to the water). Hard and injury producing, but fantastic. I loved it and look forward to doing it again.
There’s really something to be said for coming out of your comfort zone and staring down some of your own fears, including the fear of breaking old dreams and/or looking like a noofis (that’s a portmanteau of noob and doofis). At the opening of 2018 that is one of the thoughts stuck with me; more courage, much more courage, life is too short to live otherwise.
Happy new year everybody, let’s have more courage.
Hope to see you soon under the waves.
Or on them.