Goin to Surf City

(I’m about a week behind on getting these articles posted. I’ll try to catch up over the next few days)

Lots of last minute drama leaving town for the trip to San Diego and the Battle of the Paddle. Diane came down with pneumonia which stalled the trip a day. Our Doctor said she could travel, but she elected to sweat it out at home and fly to San Diego rather than be miserable in the truck. I stuck around for a day to make sure she was OK, but prepared to hit the road the next morning. The stock market continued to unravel and I had some business meetings. But finally I was on the road, headed south with an iPod full of traveling music.

I made it to Sonoma by suppertime, so I went to the Girl and the Fig, a fine restaurant with a great bar. The restaurant was booked solid, and everyone at the bar was settled in to eat dinner. I was about to give up when the hostess said “we’ll be glad to serve you dinner on the couch” so I plopped down on the big inviting couch, they brought me a fancy version of a TV tray, and I had a great meal and a little excellent wine. I had toyed with the idea of staying in Sonoma, but I wanted to get within range of surf the next morning, so I pushed on to Santa Cruz.

I stayed overnight at a nice beachfront hotel (the Dream Inn on Cowell Beach) and woke up to the sound of waves. I was feeling lazy and didn’t want to brave the cold water, but finally pushed myself into the water and found some nice waves and a few longboarders in the cove of Cowell. I got some nice rides, but I could hear bigger surf outside, so I paddled out and found Steamer’s Lane. Nice looking waves, but packed with surfers, and they looked at me like I had brought a jetski to go surfing. I caught the corner of one nice wave after the guy who paddled into it fell off, and took it for a mega-long ride, but I wanted to get on the road, the vibe was unpleasant, and I’d had enough. I paddled along the waterfront for a ways, past the pier and the amusement park, did some sprints, then went back to the hotel for a shower and breakfast.

While I was eating breakfast on the deck I saw a standup paddler stroking hard for the beach. He jumped off his board, ran up the beach to the lifeguard tower, ran back to the beach and stroked like mad for the horizon. Hmmm, Battle of the Paddle practice, methinks. Sure enough, when I called down to him when he ran by for the third time we chatted for awhile. Turns out he knows Ernie Johnson and a half dozen other people I know–either from the StandupZone, Ke Nalu, or from Maui. And yes, he’s doing the BOP.

This is the golden age of Standup, where everyone knows everyone. At most it’s one degree of separation.

By 11:30 I was in the truck, headed south.