Summer Time In Southern California is crazy...

 There are a million things to do and twenty million people doing them. All At The Same Time.   Bumper to bumper traffic isn't restricted to freeways at this fine time of year, it spills over onto parking lots, beaches, lakes, walk ways, restaurants and stores.   It seems as if the whole of southern california gets the summer off, not just the kids.    
    Suburbs twenty miles inland of the coast become an insufferable desert -  reaching temps of 110 on a regular basis. Meaning that people who normally would care less about the beach are now piling their friends, brothers, sisters, moms, dads, grandparents, and pets in the car for a trip to the ocean to cool off.   Umbrella to umbrella, people sardine themselves in on the sandy beaches and shady grass areas.    The beachside vendors are rather lovin' it.
         With so many wonderful Summery activities on hand, you'd think that it would spread things out - go on a walk, bikeride, skateboard, rollerblade,  get some food, lay out on the beach, take a dip, learn to surf, cruise a kayak, paddle a sup, etc.    But, no matter where you go or what you do it feels as if you are a Siamese twin with about 35 people- hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder.  If you can stomach it, a trip to the deserted inland desert will be quite a relief from the people-heat-wave plaguing the coastal areas. 
    Considering it was the height of summer, we did actually score some fun waves during our San Diego visit.   Sometimes outrageously crowded and often only knee high and mushy-  but compared to my lake like hometown on the east coast,  it treated us pretty well.  The only surfable spots during our stay were in Oceanside and Trestles, with a handful of days to be had at Blacks. 
    Because of the Oceanside Women's surf event we spent many days surfing by the pier, having to snag waves out from the other eighty pro surfer girls in the lineup training for the event.
    The event came and went in a flash - I passed my first round with flying colors, only to be dumped off the band wagon in round two.    Looking back on the videos, a bit of under/ overscoring went down.  But alas,  this is a truth I know - if you are new and you want to pass multiple heats you have to do it with undeniable flair- unarguably outstanding maneuvers that leaves no one in a position to add or subtract points where they don't belong.  And I didn't do that.  I should've made that heat, but it wasn't a landslide sort of thing so the scales didn't tip in my favor on that round.   We've all seen this happen in heats and you just have to breath it out and train harder so that next time you can do something incredible and have no one guessing who wins and who loses. 
    I've been doing contests for 6 months now and I had to remind myself  that I need to be patient with myself while I learn the ropes.  I learned two hugely valuable lessons from the past two events. and while I'd like to be making the finals straight away, I'm stoked to at least be passing rounds in first place.
    After the event, we got to spend some really nice time with gary's parents (the original reason for the trip)  - cooking delicious vegan meals and talking walks on the big soccer field at the school next door.  We squeezed in as much surfing as possible and before we knew it the next flight was wheels up and we were headed East for a little how-do-ya-do to my family.

I heart Dry Season Costa Rica part 1

                          The Walk.  It begins with a fresh breeze as we open our door.  A light pink sunrise dapples across the sky, remanent of the fushia that sprayed across it just minutes ago.  We set off with a slight pep to our step, heading up and out of our driveway onto the road, a nice two lane freeway that will take you to panama(right)  or nicaragua (left). Onward we stride, past the little market which is hours from opening, to the 'shanty town'  which boasts a rough patch of rocky dirt pathways,  a hammock, and a few dilapadated rusted wire chairs crowded around a wooden block,  where midday you can find locals playing cards, mothers braiding their daughters hair, or taking a siesta.  The very next set of buildings drastically change in size and construct. Gone are the corrugated metal roofs and walls, gone are the floors of dirt and crowded chambers - we now pass two and three story concrete hotels, restaurants, and bars. At the last building we veer off the freeway and away from its increasing morning traffic, onto a road that showcases Costa Rica's rugged beauty  That is, before carloads of surfboard toting people start wizzing by, powered by the local brew of coffee and energy drink, kicking up so much dust on their way that you consider dressing like a bandito in a bikini. (badana over your face, sunglasses and a hat. yep, kind of weird)
    Once the dust settles, we can see the stunning field dotted with grazing cows that stretches into the mountainous horizon - where the sun has already risen, much our dismay.  Within thirty minutes of sunrise, the land starts baking like an oven, rising at least 3 degrees with each passing minute.  The road remains straight as we plod along, the stretch of beach  to our right  catches our attention with a few fun looking empty waves.  We carry on because, while those waves are quite good, we have a group of kids to film a few miles up the beach, and unless the military lets us use their satellite, we're going to need to get a bit closer to be within zoom range.  Plus, the place we setup our station for the day, albeit two miles further down the path of infernal sun, has a long tide window that allows us larger window to fit in our surfs. 
    The road leads away from the coast about thirty five minutes into the walk, where we bid the racey dust bowling cars adue and carry on along the beach.  Another fifteen minutes (twenty on the high tide days)  we stumble into a patch of shade under a cluster of palms.  Even reyhdrating with jet fuel joe and cold water,  a slightly nauseus feeling remains. 
The Work Day
    Now, after all that, we get to officially start our work day  Depending on the waves, we sort out who surfs and who films first.  We're both exceedingly tired so this is a very hard decision.  Imagine going to the gym and pounding out a hard workout, taking a 10 minute break and then having to play a soccer game demonstrating your top performance.  Your legs ache and wobble, your so delirious its hard to even walk a straight line...performance is tough at this point. 
           But of course, really fun waves sucker us in and one of us is out there in a jiffy.  Wet sandy bikini, check.  Sunscreen, check. Crowd, check.  Wait, crowd?  Yes, after all that, the kids we film love to surf one of the more crowded waves on the six mile stretch of beach. Strange.  But, as mum says, ' a girls gotta eat'  So we trade empty waves and longer sessions for more crowded shorter surfs that put food on our plates. (we tried it the other way but it turns out that surfing goes hand in hand with eating)
the video can explain all that needs to be said about the waves, except that the black sand feels exactly like hot coals midday, the jelly fish (aka agua mala)  can be hallacious on incomming tides, and all those sick waves you see the boys catching aren't what every wave is like. this is crowded beachbreak after all. 
       Our film/ surf sessions last as long as the battery/water supply/ waves.  A crowded lineup has its perks too, and if we are lucky someone gives us a ride back (everyone has to pass where we live when they leave the beach) 
         If the waves are good, we'll stay later and each get an hour of uncrowded surfing to balance the spirit.  We do pay for it though, on the walk home.   Imagine a desert.  Maybe as hot as hell- this desert has black sand after all.  Now in this black sand deserthell you must walk for an hour with a twenty pound pack and surfboard.  This wouldn't be so bad, but you just spent the past 6 hours exhausting yourself walking there, concentrating on filming 500 million people, surfing and sprint paddling between waves to make the most of your one hour windows (which may add up to 3 or 4 hours on a good day) 
And your reward for this dangerous acheivement of desert crossing?  a quick cold shower, cup of coffee, and at least 5 hour of editing and computer work.  oh, did i mention that because we film 500 million people, somehow many of your best waves get missed? yep, fun stuff. 
enjoy the video, but remember, paradise isn't always what it seems... ;) (well...I guess it isn't so bad...)