Preparing to go surfing in the cold waters off Bodega Bay, California, is a little like organizing for an expedition. While certainly not on the scale of, say, an assault on Mount Everest, it nonetheless requires a considerable amount of planning and preparation. Wave and weather forecasts need to be consulted, buoy readings checked, and tidal charts scrutinized. And that’s just for starters. Equipment has to be assembled, organized, repaired if needed, and most importantly, endlessly checked and rechecked.

The night before I left, I carefully laid everything out on the floor of my bedroom and did a quick mental inventory. Running down my list, I checked off each item one by one: surfboard, wetsuit, wetsuit cap, booties, wax, towels, thermos, food, water, and warm clothes. Everything was accounted for and I felt ready for any contingency.

But now, as I guided my Jeep Cherokee west on Highway 12 through the stunningly beautiful Sonoma countryside that to me resembled the green, rolling hills of Ireland, I couldn’t help but think I’d forgotten something. A little voice in the back of my mind kept nagging me — telling me something was missing. Still, for the life of me, I couldn’t think of what I might have left behind.

Oh well, I thought, if I couldn’t remember what it was then it obviously must not have been that important. Seeking to redirect my thoughts, I rolled down the window, draped my arm over the sill, and concentrated on my driving. The pungent odor of manure drifted into the cab as I passed a dairy farm. Standing behind a fence along the side of the road was a small herd of Holsteins. Their tails swishing back and forth, they stood chewing grass and staring vacantly at the few passing cars. On the hill above, like something out of a postcard, was a dignified old Victorian farmhouse, its brilliantly white walls in stark contrast to the surrounding green.

The road began to twist and turn through a series of switchbacks, and I was forced to slow down. When it straightened back out again, I stepped on the gas, eager to reach my destination.

Bodega Bay is, to say the least, an unlikely spot to look for rideable waves. A small and picturesque seaside village of 1,000 inhabitants, it is located in Sonoma County about 60 miles north of San Francisco on Highway 1. Renowned for dense fog, heavy rain, and strong wind, and far removed from anything resembling the languid, Mediterranean-like beaches of southern California, it hardly seems a place most surfers would deliberately seek out. Water temperatures rarely top 60 degrees, and wetsuits — especially thick 4- and 5-mm fullsuits — are mandatory. Winds are relentless, blowing out of the northwest on a nearly regular basis so that the surrounding waters are frequently solid whitecaps. The surf is unpredictable and often dangerous. All in all, the place is a cold, unforgiving environment — a place that, for surfers, requires commitment, tenacity, and, most importantly, respect.

Fortunately, the place isn’t always a mess. Although one would never confuse it with the Gold Coast of Australia or the north shore of Oahu, the place has its own unique charm. Every once in a while, when the winds die down, the sandbars organize themselves, and the water turns smooth and glassy, Bodega Bay can be a special place. With the right swell, the waves can be stellar.

During my college years, I used to come to Bodega Bay fairly routinely to surf. And I had good memories of the place. Though I wouldn’t presume to classify myself as a Bodega “local,” I could at least say I was pretty darn familiar with the area and generally comfortable with its unpredictable waves. I hadn’t been back in several years, but I was hoping things hadn’t changed too much. I’d heard that the town had grown a bit over the intervening years, but that it was still pretty much the same — a relatively quiet coastal enclave untouched by most of the major developments that have characterized the rest of the state.

As movie buffs know, the town of Bodega Bay was made famous as the setting for Alfred Hitchcock’s spine-tingling 1963 thriller “The Birds,” starring Tippi Hedren and Rod Taylor. The original story, written by acclaimed British novelist Daphne Du Maurier, was set in England’s scenic Cornish countryside and chronicled the struggles of a farmer and his family against murderous birds that suddenly descend on their village. The famed director had read Du Maurier’s story and was determined to make it into a movie, but wanted to adapt it to a contemporary setting and place the action in a California coastal town. He had filmed his 1943 movie “Shadow of a Doubt” in Santa Rosa and was thoroughly enamored with Sonoma County. When he discovered Bodega Bay, less than 20 miles to the west, he knew he had found his movie town. He instantly fell in love with the area’s famously inclement weather and foreboding, gloomy skyline. Filming began in 1961, with the towns of Bodega Bay, Bodega, and Marshall providing the exteriors, and a sound stage in Hollywood the interiors.

In addition to its fame as the setting for Hitchcock’s movie, Bodega Bay is also, perhaps ironically, one of North America’s best birding spots. It ranks internationally as one of the American Bird Conservancy’s 500 “globally important bird areas.” On any day, large concentrations of egrets, herons, hawks, pelicans, terns, and gulls can be seen. Endangered species such as the snowy plover, black oystercatcher, and long-billed curlew also call the area home.

As I rolled through the tiny town of Valley Ford — the hometown of surf legend Dale Webster, aka “Daily Wavester,” the only man to surf everyday since 1975 — that annoying little voice in my head started up again. It was growing increasingly insistent, and, finally, I had had enough. There was no point in dwelling on it anymore. Shaking my head, I silenced it once and for all and directed my thoughts to the upcoming day.

I was headed just north of town, to a powerful beach break that resembles San Francisco’s famous Ocean Beach. At nearly two miles long, it is the longest unbroken stretch of sandy beach in Sonoma County. A west-facing break, it receives swell from nearly any direction but is notoriously temperamental. It can easily shift from mild, lake-like conditions to wall-upon-wall of closed out whitewater within the space of a few heartbeats. A heavy undertow and strong rip currents pose additional hazards, and surfing it on a big day requires experience, wave knowledge, and skill. Bank Wright, who wrote the classic, if prosaically titled, Surfing California, described it as “A wide, sandy beach break. Takes any swell and will hold shape from 2-12 feet. Winter surf is usually big and powerful — getting outside difficult.”

The locals who regularly surf there are a hardy bunch. They are men and women accustomed to cold water, unpredictable surf, and treacherous close-out sets. They are also — though “accustomed” isn’t quite the right word — fully aware of other dangers. Bodega Bay sits at the northern end of the infamous “Red Triangle” — that stretch of water extending south from Bodega Bay, encompassing the Farallon Islands, and reaching down to Monterey. The Red Triangle is a breeding and cruising ground for one of nature’s most terrifying predators — the great white shark. It has the highest number of reported white shark attacks in the world. Numerous white sharks have been encountered in the area over the years. On Thanksgiving Day, 2002, for example, a 48-year old attorney from Santa Rosa, Michael Casey, was attacked by a 16-foot great white while body-boarding. He suffered lacerations to his legs that required 80 stitches to close. His wasn’t the first such encounter, however. Six years earlier, in 1996, a surfer named Kennon Cahill was also attacked by a great white. Luckily, Cahill wasn’t bitten by the shark, only bumped a few times.

The most recent attack, however, took place in 2005 and involved, like the case of Michael Casey, a full-fledged attack. Twenty-year old Sonoma County surfer Megan Halavais was bitten in the leg by a shark estimated to be between 16 and 18 feet long. The shark’s bite just missed Halavais’s main artery. The trauma doctor who treated the female surfer claimed that had the bite severed Halavais’s main artery, she could have bled to death or lost her leg.

Despite such tales, the local crew is comprised of a dedicated group of individuals who epitomize the attitude, “hey, if it happens, it happens. What you gonna do?” In addition to braving sharks, they go out during conditions that would make most surfers soil the insides of their wetsuits. Huge conditions are common, especially during the winter, and the break can easily transform into something out of the “roaring forties.” By the same token, the local surfers aren’t foolish. When conditions are out of control, they know when to call it quits.

It was a little after nine in the morning when I drove down Bodega Bay’s main drag, a twisting road that skirted along the east side of the bay. To the west, reflecting the early morning light was Bodega Head, the first prominent point of land north of Point Reyes. It juts out into the Pacific and curves southward, partially enclosing the bay. Within its confines, numerous sailboats and fishing trawlers lay at anchor, their masts arrayed like the battle pikes of some medieval army. I passed “The Tides” restaurant, which Hitchcock had famously used in several scenes, and proceeded on an even windier stretch of Highway 1 that led me north of town.

My first stop was the Bodega Bay Surf Shack, the only surf shop in town. It is housed in a small, weather-beaten building perched on the edge of the bay. I pulled into the small parking lot adjoining the building, hastily exited my car, and stepped inside.

A bored-looking kid was lounging behind the counter. He looked up briefly as I entered and gave me a cursory nod with his chin. I proceeded to wander idly through the store, glancing at the merchandise, smelling the heavy scent of neoprene and wax in the air, and generally getting a “feel” for the place. Though small, the Surf Shack was crowded with all manner of gear — from boards, wetsuits, wax, and beachwear to surf magazines, videos, and DVDs. I came across a rack of hooded sweatshirts, each one emblazoned with the Surf Shack logo. Another rack was given over to hats — baseball caps, wide-brimmed sunhats, and, for this area especially, warm knit beanies.

I don’t know whether it’s the case with other surfers, but for me surf shops are like toy stores. I love being in them. I love wandering up and down each aisle, running my hands over the new boards, touching the wetsuits, and smelling the wax. I recalled reading in Surfer Magazine that surf shops are “supply depots, halfway houses, classrooms, libraries, churches, banks and museums.” A bit melodramatic perhaps, but for me at least, not far off the mark.

On one wall were a series of grainy photographs of, apparently, local surfers ripping local waves. I leaned in close to get a better look and recognized many of the spots, though a few looked wholly unfamiliar. Several of the shots showed perfect, glass-like conditions – more testament to the fact that, contrary to popular belief, Bodega Bay isn’t always a blown out mess.

After some ten minutes, the kid finally responded. “Hey, man,” he asked, “you need any help?”

“Nope, just looking,” I replied.

After buying an obligatory bar of wax, I set out again, heading north on Highway 1. The weather was remarkably clear and the air was crisp but the wind was starting to blow. I wondered if this meant that it would be blown out. I drove past the turnoff for Sonoma Coast State Beach, eventually pulling off the road onto a small sandstone bluff that overlooked the break. It was low tide and the beach spread out for a long distance both north and south.  A rivermouth emptied out just south of me, a winding, driftwood-edged river that flowed out from the surrounding hills. Farther south, down the beach, an endless parade of sand dunes and beach grass stretched into the distance. To the north, by contrast, the sand ended, replaced by a jagged coastline of mussel-encrusted rock.

I exited my car and walked up to the edge of the bluff. A disorganized wind swell was rolling in and there was some chop from the onshores but, overall, conditions didn’t look too bad. I’d certainly seen worse in my life.

A few surfers were already out but didn’t seem to be catching many waves. They bobbed up and down like tiny black dots.

As I stood watching, I felt a slight dampening of my early enthusiasm. I knew from experience that surfing the rugged coast north of San Francisco can be a sketchy proposition. There are numerous hazards — such as extreme cold water, jagged rocks, pounding surf, gnarly rip currents, and aggressive sea creatures — that require surfers to tread lightly. And, truth be told, the whole white shark thing was beginning to rattle my nerves. I kept envisioning one of these leering predators lurking in the depths, just waiting for me to enter the water.

By the same token, I had never had a serious problem surfing up north. In fact, the only white shark I had ever seen up close was behind the thick walls of the Monterey Bay Aquarium. And the worst wipeout I ever had had occurred down in Baja, in warm water and close to a deluxe gringo housing development.

I decided to suit up. What the hell, I thought. Might as well paddle out. I mean, this was the reason I’d come, wasn’t it?

As I squeezed into my wetsuit, a battered pickup truck pulled up next to me, its tires grinding against the dirt and rocks. There was a longboard strapped securely to the roof. The door opened and an older man got out. He walked up to the edge of the cliff and, lifting a hand up to shade his eyes, gazed out.

He looked to be in his 50s with salt and pepper hair and a lean, weather-beaten face. He was wearing a worn pair of jeans, a windbreaker, and a San Francisco Giants baseball cap.

Perhaps sensing I was scrutinizing him he turned directly toward me and said aloud, “Looks pretty shitty, huh?”

I shrugged. “Thought I’d give it a shot.”

I zipped up my wetsuit, pulled on my cap, and extracted my 6’6” Gary Hanel thruster from the back of my vehicle. It was a good board, even if somewhat dated and scarred by countless dings and half-assed patch jobs. Numerous friends had told me over the years to toss it and get a new one, but I’d always liked the feel of it and simply couldn’t bring myself to sell it or throw it away. I had bought it over ten years ago at a now defunct surf shop in San Diego.

With my board clamped securely under my arm, I started down the sandstone bluff.

“Have fun,” the older surfer called out after me. There was a distinct tone of sarcasm in his voice.

I carefully picked my way down the well-trod trail and trotted out onto the sand. I sauntered down to the water’s edge and stood for a moment, waiting for the inevitable lull before paddling out. Problem was, there wasn’t much of a lull that I could see. What I did see was a seemingly endless parade of whitewater rolling in without any letup, and what I didn’t see was anything resembling a paddling channel.

With a sigh, I laid my board on the sand and sat down beside it. I recalled hearing somewhere that getting outside here was tougher than “escaping from Alcatraz.” If this was a moderately-sized day, I hated to see what a big day looked like. Finally, after staring at the water for several minutes, I got to my feet. No time like the present, I told myself. I brushed the sand off my butt and secured the leash to my ankle. Then I picked up my board and thrust it under my arm.

I hit the water paddling and spent the next several minutes duck-diving wave after wave, thinking I’d never get outside. When I finally reached the lineup my arms felt like noodles and I was breathing heavily through an open mouth.

I sat up on my board to catch my breath, and gazed around. A handful of surfers were scattered about, each one stony-faced and staring out at the horizon, waiting for the next set. My sudden arrival in the lineup failed to elicit even a sideways glance from the others. Usually I’ll get at least a cursory nod or a lackluster “hey!” But not today. The mood out in the water seemed, if not outright surly, at least a bit on the grumpy side. Perhaps it was the weather, I thought. The wind was beginning to increase, causing the waves to turn even more disorganized and junky. Whatever the case, the overall vibe could best be described as sullen and grumbling, cantankerous even.

I hunched down over my board, thrust cold fingers under my armpits, and watched the surfer immediately to my right scratch for a peaky right. He popped up, lost his balance, and was pitched forward, hitting the water with a splash. Moments later a guy to my left took off on one of the better looking waves of the day, a head high peak. He made the drop, then disappeared in the spray and mist.

I sat patiently, waiting for my turn, but the ocean seemingly didn’t want to send anything my way. Several minutes elapsed as I stared out at the horizon, wondering if I’d head home without catching a single wave.

My patience finally paid off. A wave rolled toward me, and feeling the drag of the bottom began to form. I stroked hard, felt my board move underneath me, and hopped to my feet. The wave was a bit more wobbly and disorganized than I would have liked, but it was definitely rideable. I took my time settling into a gentle bottom turn, then came back up to the top for a sweeping off the top. As the wave reformed, I made one more quick little turn, and then pulled out the back of the wave.

Not bad, I told myself. Not great, but not bad. I paddled back out, eager to catch another one.

As the session went on, the waves got steadily bumpier and more disorganized as the onshore wind increased. I caught a few more waves, each one sub-par — definitely nothing to write home about. Eventually, the surf was almost wholly blown out. Looking around, I noticed several other surfers heading toward shore, a few paddling rather hard. I grabbed a final wave and slid down its face, beating the wave to the bottom. Whitewater exploded behind me. I belly-rode the rest of the way to shore, and walked back up the beach toward my car.

On my way up the bluff, I ran into a teenager coming down. He was holding a pair of binoculars and had an excited look on his face.

“Hey, man,” he called out, “did you see it?”

I looked at him. “See what?”

“The shark.”

“A shark? What shark?”

“Some guy just saw a shark out there.”

I felt an involuntary shiver run up my spine. “What do you mean? Just now?”

“Like five minutes ago,” he replied, nodding his head vigorously. “He said it looked like a great white.”

I swallowed. “You sure?”

“That’s what he said.”

When I got back to my car and proceeded to unlock the door, I saw my hand shaking — and it wasn’t from the cold. I turned to look back at the water. Christ, I had just been out there — surfing in that water while that thing was cruising around. Had it been stalking me? What would’ve happened if I had stayed out longer? What if I hadn’t caught that last wave? What if it had decided to attack me? Would I have stood a chance? Would I have ended up like Michael Casey or Megan Halavais? Or worse?

With these questions swirling about in my head, I stripped out of my wetsuit, put on dry clothes, and drove off. I left Bodega Bay behind, still shaken from the experience, still trying to come to grips with all the “what if” questions. As I passed through the town of Valley Ford, I suddenly remembered what it was I had forgotten: My first aid kit. When I road trip — whether it’s a surf trip or something else — I usually toss in a small medical kit, full of bandages, gauzes, ointments, and various other medications. I even have some plastic tubing that serves as a tourniquet. This time, however, I had completely forgotten it.

The irony was stark. At a time when the medical kit might have actually been needed, I had forgotten the damn thing.

I sped along, heading south toward home, my mind racing a mile a minute, running over all the different worst case scenarios. Gradually, however, as I took in the green, rolling hills and beautiful landscape I felt my blood pressure drop to more normal levels. I let out a sigh of relief – the first real expression of closure I’d had since first hearing about the shark. Philosophically, I figured the threat of shark attack was the proverbial “price of admission” to surfing this rugged and beautiful coastline. And, truth be told, shark attack was ultimately a very rare occurrence. I knew that, statistically speaking, bees, wasps, and snakes were more dangerous than sharks and responsible for far more fatalities in any given year in the United States.

Still, if it happens, it happens, I told myself. What you gonna do?

No related posts.

Road trippin’ with my two favorite allies
Fully loaded we got snacks and supplies
It’s time to leave this town
It’s time to steal away
Let’s go get lost
Anywhere in the U.S.A.

(road trippin – red hot chili peppers)

Checking Rincon

Just got back from my first California surf road trip.  Gotta do this again.  Despite being slightly marred by strong onshore winds, we still caught Rincon doing her thing.  The first day was big and burly, but by the second day it cleaned up into something that might be called glassy by the extremely optimistic.  Nevertheless I had my most successful Rincon session that second day, topped with an absolute screamer of a wave – riding the high line and denying a succession of guys looking to drop in.  It’s amazing how Rincon still peels even when it’s bumpy and blown out.

I had already surfed Rincon last year, but my two friends had never had the fortune of snagging a true Rincon set wave.  They had been itching for a surf trip, and so we set our sights on the oft overlooked option of having an adventure in our own backyard.  Who needs $600 tickets to Costa Rica when one of the best right points in the world is 3 hours to the north, flanked by jagged green mountains and giant palms.  Sure the water was cold when we got there, but thanks to the slightly unfavorable conditions it wasn’t too crowded.

“Wind is usually never an issue here,” claimed a friend who had transplanted from New York to Santa Barbara.  She was giving us the inside scoop into her network of surf reports as we stood on the beach evaluating the conditions.  “Ventura might be a bit cleaner.”  And then, after a check of a voice message, “Campus point is shoulder high and nearly glassy.”  But we didn’t stray far from the perfectly wrapping walls that made their march around the cobblestone reef.  The Queen of the Coast wasn’t in her royal state, but she was still beautiful indeed.

Should We Go In Or Check The Next Spot?

We set up camp in Carpinteria, home of Sex Wax.  They call themselves California’s last little beach town, and it might be true.  The entire area reminds me of what San Diego might have been 50 years ago, and I long for a time machine to take me back to a more relaxed era.

Lunch Break In Carpinteria

Nightlife in Rincon can be an exercise in deciding what crowd you belong in.  There are scenes for all types, from ritzy LA style clubs to college bars.  We decided that The James Joyce was for us, so after a brief drink in at Joe’s Cafe (where they apparently make strong drinks according to two separate locals) we headed across the street.  The James Joyce will make you feel like you’re in Boston, and both nights the live bands were top notch.  After that we walked down to Dargan’s, a pub hidden back from the main street and hosting several pool tables and a long bar with a stage.  If you’re having dinner in the area check out The Palace Grill and make sure you get the bread pudding for dessert.  You’ll thank me later.

The James Joyce

Saturday was flat and blown out, so we had a local friend take us to hike the 7 Falls trail above Santa Barbara.  We found our inner Avatar as we scrambled up and down some rock faces and jumped boulders over a creek.  At the top there’s a natural stone water slide where you can plunge into a deep, icy pool.  Just make sure that you know how deep it is before you jump.

Heading back down the coast we headed towards Malibu but ended up seeing a mysterious point break peeling off a huge rock formation a bit further up the coast.  There was only one guy out.  Ditching the idea of surfing Malibu, we paddled out and traded waves with a few friendly and laid back locals.  Later found out that we had surfed Leo Carrillo.  Of course, we didn’t really “find” Leo Carrillo, but having no map it was just a no-name wave that looked like fun.  Add a little danger in the form of jagged, shallow rocks right in the takeoff zone and you’ve got some adventure.

This is the true experience of the surf road trip – driving down the coast highway until you see a good wave or a spot with potential.  Abandoning any previous plans you might have made, you pull over and take a look.  You don’t even know what spot it is – what its name is or what tide it shines – but you paddle out anyway.  I suppose the “true” California surf road trip would involve no plans at all…just driving until you see an eligible wave, surfing it, and moving on.  But you take what you can get – and in this case I was more than happy to do so.

It’s the classic California road trip, and I think every surfer should do it once in their life.  It’s like a rite of passage.  Do it now, before the coastline becomes too built up, before all the spots get over-saturated with posers and kooks on Costco boards.  There’s still enough room out there for everyone, you just have to find it.

Related posts:

1. Rincon, Puerto Rico – Surf Travel Report
2. Surf Travel Report – Saladita, Mexico
3. Snow Travel Report 2010

By Andrew Nash

Lake Superior by Luke Kavajecz

Are you wondering what it’s like to surf the Great Lakes? How about this: glassy waves are rolling in and no one else is in sight – you have it all to yourself. You’ve also got hidden spots that haven’t been surfed yet, camaraderie amongst those who share your idea of freshwater entertainment, and a handful of shark free bodies of wave-producing water to choose from. If you’re willing to drive around the region, you can hit up beaches on different parts of the Great Lakes for optimal surf (depending on wind direction). The lakes do have flat spells and good surf isn’t very frequent, but it isn’t unheard of to surf for days in a row – especially in the colder, stormier months. Sounds pretty sweet, right? It is.

I don’t know where you ride, but you might have to deal with crowds all the time. Do you ever sit in a traffic jam on the highway only to finally arrive at the beach, go out in the water, and then deal with enough people to remind you of a liquefied airport security checkpoint? I never have to put up with that where I go. Sure, swimmers and beachgoers congregate in the summer… but guess what? The same storms that produce waves also drive away tourists and sandcastle contractors. When I go to the beach on stormy days the parking lot is usually empty. Although some lake spots do get crowded, it’s not hard to find a beach in the middle of nowhere that gives you what you’re looking for – without the throngs. For a lot of lake surfers, this is just another day in the office. Plus it’s kind of cool to do something a lot of people still don’t believe is possible.

Many lake surfers have a love-hate relationship with the winter. Although some of the best memories can be made in the colder months, cold is a foe that every lake surfer knows. Unless your idea of surfing is going out in the water a few months out of the year when it’s warmer (which also tends to be the calmer time of year with fewer waves), you’re going to need some suitable gear to surf the fresh water stuff. Even though thick full body wetsuits will protect you from the inhospitable water, spots can become inaccessible in the winter thanks to ice. It all depends though. This past winter I found a beach that was open all season long, with very little ice.

Lake Superior by Bob Tema

How did I get into surfing Lake Michigan? Well, I’m a transplant from the state of Washington and spent a little bit of time in the West Coast water as a teen (even went to Huntington Beach once). I wasn’t able to get out in the ocean very often, but something about surfing drew me in. After moving to Michigan, I thought this pastime would be placed on hold – until I went to the beach one July afternoon and there was three to five foot surf. I was googly-eyed and have been hooked ever since. It’s a good thing I accidentally moved into a house just down the road from a sa-weet beach.

Although there are many similarities between surfing the Great Lakes and the ocean, there are also some key differences, such as buoyancy, the frequency between waves, and the prevalence of onshore winds and rough conditions. Freshwater is less buoyant than saltwater, so you can imagine how that affects the experience. I’m used to the salt-free shreddables, but someone who surfs the ocean all the time might feel like they’re in a twilight zone of some sort when they catch freshwater waves. On the one hand, you’re riding waves while seagulls are flying overhead. On the other hand, you’re in a freakin’ lake! Swallowing a mouthful of water that isn’t salty can be a little creepy for some first-timers. Since waves on the Great Lakes often break closer together, surfing them can require more paddling and wear your arms out quicker than the ocean. Sometimes it feels like a bombardment of waves, with little time in between. Because storm systems that produce freshwater waves are often closer to shore, lake conditions also tend to be windier than their salty counterpart. However, if you know where to look and when to go, you can find nice break. Like anywhere else, it’s all about the hunt for waves – and the Great Lakes offer plenty of that!

If you want to find out more about surfing the Great Lakes, check out Third Coast Surf Shop (http://www.thirdcoastsurfshop.com/), where you can browse around the online store, stop by the forum (http://forum.thirdcoastsurfshop.com/), and see what lake surfing is all about.

Related posts:

1. An Interview with Ryan Gerard, Proprietor of Third Coast Surf Shop

In a slight break from our usual topic of surfing, and in honor of the Winter Olympics, I’ve decided to give a little mini report on the snow this winter.  A lot of surfers I know also like to snowboard or ski.  It never hurts to change it up a little!  In fact, riding in powder on a snowboard feels quite a bit like surfing.  If the cold water’s got you down and you’re looking to hit the road for some of the white stuff, then let’s take a look at some favorite spots.

My snow travels this year have focused on mainly the west coast of North America, from the local hills in California to the grand vistas of Whistler Blackcomb.

If you live in the area you know it’s been a stellar year for snowfall, and it can only get better.

Mt. Baldy, CA

Mt. Baldy is a local favorite, and an often under appreciated member of the local hills within reasonable striking distance of the major Southern California area.  Me and a friend set out for Baldy at the tail end of the 10-year storm that hit Southern California in a series of soaking wet punches.  Thanks to the elevation all that rain came as snow for the local mountains like Baldy, Bear, Mt. High, and others.

I can only describe Baldy as quaint.  It has a very small parking lot and 4 two person chair lifts.  When we got there it was snowing quite a bit, and the Baldy staff was a little overwhelmed with the crowds and trying to dig out the chairs.

The runs on Baldy are steep and full of natural features and obstacles–it’s a cool natural terrain park.  Unfortunately it was snowing so hard when we got there that it was nearly impossible to see where we were going, let alone the surroundings.   Visibility got so bad we had to cut our stay short – that and the fact that the chair lifts were constantly stopping (not sure why, but they were covered in about 1″ of solid ice so that might explain it).

If you’re heading up to Baldy be sure to pack chains unless told otherwise.  The road up to the top is a narrow switchback which can get very slick.

I’d like to head back to Baldy for sure when I can actually see something!  I also heard that the Baldy backcountry is one of its secret charms.

Don’t Forget Your: Woodsman’s Axe, Flannel Shirt, Goggles

Check Out:

http://www.mtbaldy.com

Mt. High

Mt. High is a bit easier to get to than Mt. Baldy, and is also bigger.  It also gets a bit more crowded I think.  The crowd is a bit different, consisting of a more punk/shred crowd in general.  This is probably because of the very popular terrain parks that are kept in very good quality by the crew.

Mt. High has three “resorts” in total – West, East, and North.

If you’d rather just cruise I highly recommend the East resort.  They have one run called Goldrush which is over a mile long.  However, Mt. High has installed jumps on this run recently, which to me reduces its charm as a place to escape from the park-heads at the West resort.  Although I haven’t been to the North resort yet, but although a bit smaller I think that it probably has the least crowds and I don’t believe there are any jumps or park features.

Come here after a local snow and enjoy the pow.  Unfortunately Mt. High can get hardpacked pretty quickly due to the crowds and the warm temps.  You can get away with wearing a long sleeve shirt at Mt. High during the day – the sun is very strong.

Don’t forget your: Sunblock, Ipod, Beer Cooler, Baggy Neon Pants

Check Out:

http://www.mthigh.com

Mammoth Mountain

One of California’s crown jewels in terms of mountain resorts, Mammoth is a true pleasure.  I think I was a little spoiled when I went here for the first time last weekend.  We had over 2′ of fresh powder over two days, and there was very little wind.  According to my friends it can get pretty windy at Mammoth, but the fact is that when it snows there it tends to do so in large quantities.

Mammoth is big, and even on weekends it doesn’t get too crowded.  I only had to really wait on the lift line once, and that was because the lunch crowd was done eating and decided it was time to get back on the hill.

What was amazingly fun about Mammoth was the intermediate level tree runs we found.  Not too dense, but just challenging enough to be super fun.  With the 2′ of pow it was like a dream.  After each run we were hooting with delight.  If you’re just starting to get into trees I highly recommend checking out chair 25.  Even after 2 full days we were able to find hidden caches of untouched pow.

If you’re looking for a place to stay check out the Sierra Lodge.  Great prices, spacious rooms, very friendly and helpful staff, and a hot tub on the roof.  I think the conversations in the hot tub were one of the highlights of the trip, as a friendly group of older men challenged my group of female friends with the question of whether or not they pee in the shower.  According to them either you do, or you lie about it (just like wetsuits).  We begged to differ!  I think guys are a bit different in this respect, although one of my girlfriends insisted that she did.

Anyway, carry chains with you to Mammoth.  You can find good lift ticket deals at Costco if you’re going for a few days.  Buying multiple days on the internet will save you a few bucks, but if you’re anything like us and don’t roll in until 5 in the morning after driving all night, then you might want to hold off in case you only board a half day.

Don’t Forget Your:  Powder Board, Friends, Snacks For The Car Ride, Sinkhole Detectors

Check Out:

http://www.mammothmountain.com

Whistler Blackcomb

Everyone has to do Whistler at least once in their life if they are a big time skiier/snowboarder.  It’s just so big.  For the average skiier or snowboarder it could take 30-40 minutes to get from the peak to the base.  The views are breathtaking, and the Peak2Peak Gondola is a real life Disney ride.

Whistler and Vancouver are playing host to the Olympics this year, but don’t let that scare you away (except during the Olympics).  We went over New Year’s and although it was crowded on Saturday and Sunday, after the weekend the mountain was practically vacant.  Go for a midweek jaunt and I think you’ll have a blast.

Winter Wonderland - Blackcomb Glacier

Although the local Vancouver mountain Cypress is having trouble getting enough snow for the Olympics this year, November was officially the snowiest month ever recorded for Whistler Blackcomb.  My friends and I were lucky enough to arrive right before it dumped a foot and a half of snow, so conditions were pretty mint.

Our best runs were in 7th Heaven, which is a wide open bowl with copses of trees to challenge you.  It’s a wide open powder playground when it’s on.  Another great place to head off track is the Symphony Amphitheater, where you can also find some challenging powder and tree runs.

Losing your friends on this mountain is a pretty real concern, so make sure you stick with your buds and carry phones/walkies.  Also, going out of bounds here can have lethal consequences, so make wise choices and stick with the buddy system.

Whistler has some fun nightlife, so for Apres check out Longhorn and Garibaldi Lift Co for drinks, then Maxx Fish and Tommy Africa’s 80’s Night for some dancing.  Watch out for creepy gropers and slimy old guys.

Remember: US Citizens now need a Passport to enter Canada, so take that into consideration.

Don’t Forget Your: GPS Unit, Walkie Talkies, Dancing Shoes, Passport

Check out:

http://www.whistlerblackcomb.com

Related posts:

1. Peniche, Portugal – Surf Travel Report
2. Rincon Travel Report – The Classic California Road Trip
3. Surf Travel Report – Saladita, Mexico

I was in the middle of my cross-country move to Southern California when I called up my friend Meghan just to check in and see how she was doing.  Somehow the conversation turned to surfing (as it usually does) and she told me that she and our two other girlfriends were heading to Saladita, Mexico in a few weeks, just after New Year’s.  She said they already had a place and a car rented, and if I wanted to come that all I had to do was buy a ticket to and they’d pick me up at the airport.

It was kind of a lot to chew for me.  I was already in the middle of a cross country move that was going to take quite a while (with a stopover in Michigan for Christmas with the family).  The travel dates would only let me settle into my apartment San Diego for about 4 days before I’d have to get on the plane.  I was also apprehensive about going to Mexico.  After some thinking, however, I decided to go.  I mean honestly, how many times do you get an offer like this?  “Hey girl we’ve got everything planned out and booked, all you gotta do is get here and we’ll even pick you up!”  Uh, like never.  So I decided to carpe diem and bought myself an early Christmas gift via CheapTickets.com.

Playa La Saladita

I had never been to Mexico – all I had heard were some scattered stories about great waves and scary Federales.  “The waves are awesome but don’t drive around after dark.”  I called and emailed some friends who had been there and they all gave me the thumbs up.  Where I was going – Playa Saladita – was quite far south in southern mainland Mexico.  I should be cautious, but since the surf and beach area of Playa Saladita is pretty much owned and run by a single extended family it is actually fairly safe.  To quote my friend Dave, “It’s not about them stealing your stuff.”

Since a lot of my friends had been there and thoroughly enjoyed themselves I became a lot more relaxed.  I have to admit, even though I did take a solo surf trip to Puerto Rico I’m not one of those Lonely Planet travel types.  I think I have to blame my mom for that one, who blatantly told me “Just don’t go to Mexico” when I decided to move to San Diego.  To her credit though, when I announced this trip she remained composed.

I flew Alaska airlines out of LAX, which had the cheapest fare for the dates I wanted.  On top of that, Alaska only charges $50 per way for a surfboard (this may change at any time, unfortunately, so please contact the airline to check on current baggage fees.)  The flight was easy and I arrived in Ixtapa/Zihuatenejo airport along with a bunch of other American tourists who were gearing up for resorts and cruises.

My Friend's Rental Car

Meanwhile my friends picked me up in the most beat up rental car you’ve ever seen in your life.  We speculated that the rental guy just gave us his personal car for the week.  We headed into the countryside, stopping briefly to pick up food for the week.  It was about an hour drive through the narrow roads, stopping twice for an armed military checkpoint.  We were four gringo girls with a surfboard strapped to the roof, and my friends were torturing me by singing 80’s songs at the top of their lungs.

We stayed at the House of Waves, a complex of about five or six apartment style accommodations.  The one defining feature of House of Waves is that it has the best, most plush lawn within 100 miles.  There are several other surfer oriented places to stay along the 500 yard stretch of beach, including several restaurants.  Our apartment featured two bedrooms, a living room, bathroom, a balcony with a perfect view of the break, and a kitchen where we were able to make a few meals.

Sunset At Playa Saladita

So how about the waves?  Well, unfortunately I was arriving at the tail end of a swell, and the surf heights were less than desirable.  However, the ruler perfect lines were still spectacular.  Saladita is a left point, well known for its perfection for a longboard.  You have to see it to really appreciate the precision with which the lip cascades down the line at an even pace.  I rode my quad fish (the Faktion quadzilla model shaped by local Long Island, NY shaper Mark Petrocelli) and had a great time even when the waves dropped below thigh high by the end of the trip.  This area is the frequent stomping ground of popular author and longboarder Alan Weisbecker (In Search Of Captain Zero).  Us being from the same town on Eastern Long Island and sharing mutual friends, we had a few meals and debates, and he showed us early clips from his surf movie.

One thing that was really remarkable about the area was the amount of pelicans inhabiting the area.  Maybe it’s their Winter nesting ground.  It’s pretty cool to see a line of 15 pelicans following each other, swooping low to catch the updraft created by a rolling line of swell.  Pelicans are surfers too – they just ride the air above the wave rather than the water itself.  It’s pretty fun to see.  We also saw a few dolphins, but not many.  We were feeling a little sharky since this was directly after the two deadly shark attacks that had happened in the region – an event that is pretty rare for the area.

Midway through the trip we decided to check out a spot further north up the coast.  It was about 40 minutes by car.  I’m really hesitant to reveal the name of the break here, and to preserve its integrity I’m not going to.  I’m sure with a little research you can find it yourself.  Basically another couple that was staying at the House of Waves gave us directions to the spot, written on a napkin.  The last group of turns took us to a long dirt road past a few extremely poor looking villages that continued on into the woods.  The last direction on the napkin was to “take the fork that looked more traveled”.  So here we were, four gringo girls in a beat up car with 4 surfboards strapped to the roof, driving deeper into the woods with no clear direction.  Every time the dirt road forked (and there were a lot of forks) we would sit and debate about which one looked more traveled.  I was more than a little nervous.

Somehow luck was with us and we made it through, arriving at the most beautiful setup you can imagine.  Picture lush palms, crystal clear water, and a rock reef point creating perfect left peelers.  There were a handful of surfers already out – a group from California we eventually ended up talking to and a couple from Oregon.

Hanging Out At The Secret Spot

Paddling out we were able to see stingrays and lots of colorful fish.  The water wasn’t Caribbean blue, but it was incredibly clear and full of life.  The waves weren’t huge, maybe waist – shoulder, and we got some amazing rides.  After surfing we sat down at a tiny little restaurant right there on the beach run by a grandma and her grandchildren. We sipped Coronas and watched our friends surf.  I had the absolute BEST shrimp tacos I’ve ever had in my life, and nothing I’ve had since has come close.  I would take a trip back here just for the food.  I couldn’t believe it – it was idyllic.

Another popular break in the area is Playa Sayulita, which is about 20 minutes south of Saladita.  It’s amazing how many international travelers were at the break.  We met people from Germany, Finland, and Canada, and everyone was incredibly friendly.

Our Other Friend's Rental Car, Overloaded With Boards

I’d go back to Saladita in an instant, in fact I believe one of my friends is there right now for a few weeks.  I might just hop on a plane and visit her!

Safety Tips:

• Travel in groups, especially women.  It’s fairly safe here but don’t be naïve.
• It’s not advisable to drive around after dark.
• Wear shoes on the beach – it can be littered with trash and fish bones.  The last thing you want is a cut on your foot.
• Fall flat in the surf – it’s a rock reef bottom and it’s sharp!
• Shuffle your feet in the sand!  Stingrays live here, and the intense pain suffered by our friends who was stung was scary enough.
• Lock valuables in your room.

Our Friend Soaking His Foot After A Stingray Got Him

Related posts:

1. Rincon, Puerto Rico – Surf Travel Report
2. Peniche, Portugal – Surf Travel Report
3. Rincon Travel Report – The Classic California Road Trip

Belgas, Portugal (photo from PenicheSurfCamp.com)

Situated on the west coast of the Europe, Portugal is exposed to all sorts of swells from the Atlantic ocean.  If you’re looking for something a little different for your next surf trip, and want a little European flair, then Portugal might be the place for you!

Meio Da Baia - Photo Courtesy Peniche Surf Camp

Portugal does not immediately come to mind when thinking of dream surf destinations.  But the secret is getting out, and Portugal is slowly rising as a premiere surf destination.

There are points, sandbars, bays, and even a few big waves places such as the island of Maderia.

Places To Stay

Peniche has a number of different surf camps, catering to a wide range European travelers looking to take a surf holiday.  My friend and I only met one other American during our stay, which was actually pretty fun.

Halloween Party @ Maximum Surf Camp

For this trip a friend an I stayed at the Peniche Surf Camp in Peniche.  Peniche is a quiet fishing town situated on an island-like peninsula of land.  This positions Peniche in such a way that you can always find a spot that’s offshore or out of the wind.

The camp offers a wide range of services, from personal and group lessons, to video critique sessions, and evening barbeques and parties.  Since we went over Halloween, we got to experience a raving euro-type Halloween bash at the German surf camp.  We met so many fun people from Portugal, Australia, Sweden, England, and many other places.  Thanks to Facebook I’m still in touch with many of them.

Camp Instructors

The instructors at the Peniche camp are excellent and experienced surfers who will help you on your technique and style.  The video sessions are excellent – seeing yourself on video can really help you improve.  There was also a professional photographer on hand so everyone got to come away with some great action shots.

This camp was quite cheap even though the Euro was slamming the Dollar when we went.  Some people might scoff at the idea of staying at a surf camp, but in my opinion surf travel is also about the people you meet, and staying at a camp you’ll make friends instantly.

The Waves

Perhaps most famous for “Supertubos” (Supertubes), there are a number of different breaks scattered around the town that offer a wide range of waves for beginners to more advanced surfers.

Consolação is a right hand rock reef.  We did not get to surf here as conditions did not permit.  However,

Supertubes is a fast, hollow beachbreak that can break your board and your neck.  This wave is for experienced surfers only.

Molho Leste (Pronounced “Moy Lest”) is a fast right that runs along a jetty.  It’s the next break over from Supertubes.  It can break even when very small, offering a great place for beginners.  But watch out…when this place breaks big it’s fast and powerful.

Myself at Meio Da Baia

On the other side of the peninsula we have Cantinho Da Baia and Meio Da Baia.  Basically these are spots along a large bay on the northen side of Peniche.  Depending on swell direction, the “Middle of the Bay” generally breaks bigger.  “Corner of the Bay” can offer protection from the wind and smaller waves.  When we were there we surfed Cantinho Da Baia a lot as it was more sheltered and the wave shape was better.  Meio Da Baia has a few peaks and is just off a pile of offshore reefs/rocks.  Meio Da Baia is where I had my worst wipeout ever.  It packs a punch, but it can help you push your surfing limits.

Further north along the coast is Lagido which is a left breaking over a reef, and then Almagreira and Belgas.  Conditions did not permit surf on the last two breaks, and I didn’t get to surf Lagido because of a tweaked neck I sustained in the aforementioned wipeout at Meio Da Baia.

Unfortunately we got a little skunked on our trip as Peniche was ransacked by heavy winds.  The weather we encountered was very unusual for the area, but we still surfed every day.  Towards the end of our 10 day stay winds calmed and the weather got quite good, so we did get a taste of the “usual” Peniche.

Equipment To Bring

Bring your standard shortboard (or whatever is standard for you), and then depending on the swell, take a step up or small wave board.  Check the swell forecast before you leave to see what kind of boards you might need.  I was happy to have brought my fish for the last few days when the waves got small.  I ended up getting the longest rides while everyone else was struggling on their thrusters.

If you don’t have a board, or don’t feel like bringing it on the plane, rentals are easy to come across at the various camps and shops.

As far as wetsuits go, you can get away with a 3/2 for much of the year, but in the Winter I definitely suggest bringing a 4/3 and throw your booties in the bag too.  In the summer you can get away with just a swimsuit, but if you’re like me and get cold, I’d bring a light wetsuit top or a springsuit.

Other Stuff To Do

Make sure you check out the local mom and pop cafes that are scattered around town.  Our favorite thing to do in the morning was to go to the local cafe, have a Galão or two and a chocolate croissant, chat with the other surfers, and then hit the water.

The Castle at Obidos

We took a day off to explore the countryside and went to the walled city of Obidos with Pedro, the surf camp photog.  He introduced us to “Ginjina de Obidos,” which is a cherry liqueur, found in many shops, stands, and bars around the city.  The best way to have it is poured from a large bottle into edible chocolate shot glasses.

Another great place is the small town of Ferrel.  The narrow streets, coffee shops and boutiques really make you feel like you’re in Europe.

To the south, the nearby town of Ericeira offers a multitude of world class surf breaks.  This is next on our list when we return to Portugal.

Getting There

Access to Peniche is an easy 45 minute drive from the main airport in Lisbon.

More Info

Peniche Surf Camp

Wannasurf.com – Portugal

Related posts:

1. Rincon, Puerto Rico – Surf Travel Report
2. Surf Travel Report – Saladita, Mexico
3. Rincon Travel Report – The Classic California Road Trip

Rincon, Puerto Rico is known as the Atlantic Ocean’s answer to Oahu’s North Shore.  Located on the northwest corner of the island of Puerto Rico in the Caribbean, Rincon is situated to receive long period swells from Winter storms crossing the Atlantic.  Combined with balmy temperatures, bathtub-warm clear blue water, and easy access through Aguadilla airport, Rincon is a surf mecca for East Coasters sick of the Winter blues.

Getting There

The easiest way to get to Rincon is to find a flight into Aguadilla airport.  This will put you an easy 40 minute drive from Rincon.

What can I say…I’m a HUGE fan of Jet Blue.  They fly right into Aguadilla airport, and only charge $50 for your boards each way (as of this writing).  They’ve got personal TV’s with Direct TV in each seat, and you get unlimited snacks and drinks.  (Do I sound like an advertisement yet?)  Head over to JetBlue.com to search out the best fares.  Otherwise, hit up CheapTickets.com for fares on other airlines.  I don’t think JetBlue generally shows up on those discount airline websites, but I might be wrong.

Another thing is that Puerto Rico is so easy for US Citizens because they use the American dollar, and US citizens don’t need a passport.

Places To Stay

When I was planning my trip, I searched the internet for rentals.  I wanted to go as cheap as I could, and I found an apartment on VRBO.com (Vacation Rentals By Owner).  It ran me $500 for the week, had full kitchen ammenities, a great view, and a private driveway.

Check out VRBO and Craigslist for more private residences for rent.

Some of the nicer places I saw are the Lazy Parrot, Bunger’s Bon-Accord Inn, and Casa Islena.  On my next trip I’d love to stay at the Lazy Parrot.  For a comprehensive list of Rincon hotels and accomodations, check out Rincon.org.

Surf Spots!

The most important part of your trip!   There are so many spots around Rincon and on the North coast of the island that you’d be hard pressed to surf them all even in a week.

Myself Surfing Maria's

My favorite spot, by far, was Maria’s beach.  Located just off the 413, Maria’s is a friendly right point with a reef bottom.  Access is easy…park anywhere you want pretty much – just be respectful of course.  Parking in Rincon is very unregulated, which is nice for visitors.  Watch out for the HUGE pothole in the middle of the Maria’s lot!  I nearly killed my rental car.

Getting in and out at Maria’s is easy if you know what you’re doing.  If you sit down and watch, you’ll notice a lot of the surfers (well, the ones who know the spot) going in and out at a little keyhole.  This is a sandier spot that is easier on your feet and seems to have less urchins.

Indicators Lineup - Photo Hayley Gordon

Further up the coast from Maria’s is Indicators and Domes.  Indicators is a right point that curls along the cliff, “indicating” a coming set for Maria’s.  Domes is in it’s own little cove right underneath a power generator of some sort.  You’ll see the green “Dome” right away.

They were doing significant construction to the lighthouse pavilion when I was there, and hopefully that construction is finished.  It looks like it was going to turn out very nice.

Rincon’s renown big waves spot is called Tres Palmas located just off Steps Beach.  It’s called steps because of a random piece of concrete stairs sitting in the middle of the beach.

Tres Palmas View From The Goat House

When I was in Rincon last March I was lucky enough to Witness the “Swell of the Decade” which stacked the sets at Tres Palmas up to 25-30 foot.  It was an AMAZING experience.  The view from the road of Tres Palmas is spectacular, and on a good swell cars will be lined up, people watching, locals setting up beer coolers and selling Coronas, and general mayhem.  Be sure to get the Coconut gelato from the guy with the cart if he’s down there!  Next to Tres Palmas is its little sister, Dogman’s.

The north coast of Rincon point includes Sandy Beach, Puntas, Pools, and Antonio’s. These are all mostly reef breaks with some sand bottoms.  Sandy Beach sets up to be a left, and Antonio’s a right.  They get blown out by the trade winds, however, so they’re fun but not premier spots.

When the conditions are right, Little Malibu can start breaking.  It’s a right point breaking right into a bay.  The paddleout is fairly easy, but it’s a tricky wave to surf.  When I was there the huge swell was causing it to double up, heave, and back off, but that didn’t stop scores of hopefuls from attempting to catch a ride here.

Bridges in Aguadilla serving up some fun sized rights - Photo Hayley Gordon

When the swell starts absolutely macking you can head up to Aguadilla bay and catch some more fun sized waves at Bridges and Playgrounds.  I surfed Bridges at around 4 foot and super glassy when the rest of Rincon was maxed out.  Unfortunately, everyone else was also there, making it crowded.  Hold your own, be respectful, and don’t run over the spongers!

Further North of Aguadilla bay are the breaks of Crash Boat, Gas Chambers, and Wishing Well.  I did not venture up that way during my stay, but these are very popular breaks that can get very good.

On the north coast of Puerto Rico you’ve got Wilderness, Surfer’s Beach, Jobos, and Middles. I did not make it to this area during my travels, but will hopefully cover it during another trip.  You can check out Surfline’s extensive coverage of this, and all other major Puerto Rico surf spots, for more information.

There are surf spots for people of all abilities and board disciplines.

Other Stuff To Do

If the surf goes flat there are numerous things to do during your stay.  Check out the small shops scattered around town, hit up Calypso for a drink, go scuba diving off Desecheo Island, or take a moonlit horseback ride.

Related posts:

1. Rincon Travel Report – The Classic California Road Trip
2. Peniche, Portugal – Surf Travel Report
3. Surf Travel Report – Saladita, Mexico