TSY recently shared an awesome adventure. When it hit the Facebook bunch it received a lot of attention, some of which was very favorable, and some that came in the form of an ugly attack.
I’ve heard a phrase come up many times in and around the surfing community. “Only a surfer knows the feeling.” This phrase is a bit abstract. It is a bit inviting and sends several messages.
After reading Leigh’s bear hunting article, I see the phrase in a new way. For most of surfing’s life, it was frowned upon. Surfing was thought to be a waste of time and simply not productive. Only a surfer knows, was sent to the folks judging and berating. It was a message that said, “Hey, you ever surfed?” It asked “Could you, even if you tried?” It said, “If you made the commitment that I made to do this thing, your perspective would not be what it is.”
When I spent more time with it, it echoes other sentiments found in the Indian’s Prayer. Do not judge your neighbor until you have walked a mile in their moccasins. It is says judge not, lest ye be judged.
These simple ways of respecting one another have a common thread that seems to be lost in our cyber space. I’m certain the cyber bullying would diminish if it were not cyber. In a one-on-one session, cowardice would silence this hate. With no accountability, some folks simply can’t behave or don’t understand how to control themselves.
We don’t all agree on everything and that’s good. The world is a lovely melting pot of ideas and pursuits. That’s beautiful, until ugly hate is allowed to creep in. This is the stuff that perpetuates ill will, and we can control it. If you can’t say anything nice, zip it.
It’s very simple. If you are not able to apply some empathy, learn.
Only a surfer knows the feeling is not exclusive to surfing. Only a Yogi… Only a Vegan…. Only a Woman… Only a Hunter… Only a whatever…don’t be ugly to one another. One more interesting point, and please fact check this, if you look at the hate-filled childish comments, they seem to come from a crowd that touts inclusion when it’s trendy. Interesting to see who says what. Enjoy what you do, and let’s all just be little sweeties. If you can’t find sweet, then just zip it up.
The following is a recap of Day Eight of our surfboard run from Houston, Texas to Sayulita, Mexico. If you missed Day Seven you can catch up on that here.
We wandered into the lobby of the hotel for breakfast, and were pleasantly surprised to find it wasn’t a buffet but cook to order. We made our selections and enjoyed our last morning of the trip.
It took some zipping and zagging out of Monterey traffic to make it back on the toll road, or cuota . We were only a few hours from the border, and the morning slipped by without incident. Soon we saw the long lines and guards that signaled the border crossing. The other giveaway was the gobs of people on foot, weaving through traffic and selling everything under the sun. Before you leave Mexico, you can pick up a sombrero, statue of the Virgin Mary, stuffed animals, blankets and all manner of drinks and snacks.
We no gracias’ed our way to the front of the line. There was a brief discussion with the agent about where we’d been and where we were headed, and then we were directed across and into the United States.
Our destination was Houston, but we made a quick stop in Rockport. Edgar had purchased this 40-foot Defever trawler and was doing some work on it while it was on the hard stand. That seemed to be going well, and it wouldn’t be long before it was ready for its journey out of Rockport, into the Intercostal Waterway and all the way to the Houston ship channel. But that’s another story for another post….
The following is a recap of Day Seven of our surfboard run from Houston, Texas to Sayulita, Mexico. If you missed Day Six you can catch up on that here.
We kept a fire going all night long and stayed nice and toasty under our wool blankets. In the morning we got a tour of the rest of the property from one of the employees. Simon and his two children walked us down to the rope bridge, which Kevin had told us about in our previous visit. This time, we had a demonstration. Simon carefully climbed on the rope to show us how it was done… slowly working his way across the water and to the other shore. It looked very challenging, and Simon clearly did not expect any of us to even attempt it, but Edgar decided to give it a try.
No one else was feeling strong enough to jump at that challenge, so we thanked Simon and packed up our rig to head down the road for a tank of gas and a bite to eat.
Breakfast!
Edgar and Marie had tacos from a roadside stand, while I visited the horses in a nearby field. My stomach wasn’t quite ready for tacos, but I am always ready for a little neck scratching. Our morning complete, we headed on to Monterrey. The traffic in this city is ridiculous! It took some fancy navigating and map searching, but we finally found a hotel at a reasonable rate and checked in. We thought we’d order pizza instead of venturing out again, but didn’t think our limited Spanish vocabulary would cut it over the phone. We went back to the desk to ask the clerk for help. She was happy to call it in, and we enjoyed the veggie and meat lovers options.
We brought the leftovers to our new friend at the desk.
Our road trip across Mexico was nearly complete. Day eight would see us head for the border crossing, where all manner of items are on sale, from sombreros to Virgin Marys, and on to a new project on the gulf.
The following is a recap of Day Six of our surfboard run from Houston, Texas to Sayulita, Mexico. If you missed Day Five you can catch up on that here.
Marie and I had good yoga intentions, but I was up all night with some wicked food poisoning and finally got some sleep around 6am. Marie accompanied Edgar to the beach instead while I rested. After the morning surf session we met back up for coffee at Chocobanana, a Sayulita staple. The tables were busy and a local musician entertained everyone with a few Coldplay and Pearl Jam tunes.
Actual musician not pictured, but I bet these two are phenomenal.
It was time to hit the road for the long drive home, so we returned the board Edgar had been using, back to Casa Aves. The drive back toward El Salto was peppered with multiple tolls, some official and some not, and we repeatedly dug into our cuota stash, tucked into a plastic cup in the console.
Here’s another interesting thing about the Mexican roads: vehicles pass in the middle. Really. In a lot of spots, there are two lanes, one in each direction, and huge trucks will pass in the middle. This is as normal as getting leche in your coffee. Other drivers will do their best to scoot over and let them by.
One of my favorite things to do on road trips is to try the local snacks, so wherever we stopped we purchased a few things with little knowledge as to what they were. Most were very good…. and we snacked on candy, nuts, cookies and all sorts of things as we traveled.
We weren’t sure how the timing would work out, but it ended up just perfect for us to stop by to see Kevin again, and to rent one of his big cabins, which had all the comforts of home, including a kitchen and cozy fireplace. (Cabañas “El Arroyo del Agua” on Facebook.) He helped us gather firewood and we got enough to last the night. The temperature difference between the beach in Sayulita and the air up in the mountains was dramatic. We were grateful to see a large stack of wool blankets in each room.
Once we dropped off our things, we headed into the city to find a cash machine and a restaurant. The latter was no problem, but the cash was tricky. We finally spotted an ATM but it had a line outside. Sayulita folks are used to seeing Americans, but in this town, not so much. We drew some curious looks as we waited our turn, and then again when we entered a small family restaurant for a bite. The manager or owner’s kids were all helping to wait tables while doing homework, and they kept looking over and giggling at us. I felt like we were the talk of El Salto.
This super-sized Sprite tasted amazing.
Back at the cabin we settled in to do our own giggling at an Adam Sandler movie dubbed over in Spanish, and eventually turned in.
On day seven, it was time for the feats of strength! Who among us would be brave enough to try the bridge made of rope, and would they make it to the other side?
This is a recap of day five of our surfboard run from Houston, Texas to Sayulita, Mexico. If you missed day four, you can catch up here.
Day five began with leftover pizza for breakfast. We made quick work of that and made tracks for the beach. Edgar surfed the Sayulita break while I practiced yoga. I played around with handstands against a mural wall, and toyed with foot placement and shoulder activation. Our morning exercise complete, we walked a few streets into town and got coffee at a new place. New businesses are popping up all over town… restaurants, coffee shops, yoga studios and B & Bs. While we were walking around and taking note of the new spots, we found a barbershop, and Edgar decided to get a hair cut.
Not long after the scissors came out, another man came into the shop and had a heated discussion with the barber. He then went to a work station and began to pick up products and tools and put them in a bag. The barber working on Edgar’s hair didn’t seem to like that, and some more angry words and gestures were exchanged. Then the barber opened up the angry guy’s bag, and took some of the product back out, clearly claiming it belonged to the shop. Things were beginning to get uncomfortable so Edgar spoke up and asked if they could possibly settle the matter later, perhaps when scissors and razors were not so close at hand. They agreed and the angry guy left, and Edgar got a nice haircut. A boy of about eight came into the shop while we were there. He had a little money — it appeared he’d made it selling trinkets in the square. Edgar and the barber agreed to split the cost of his cut so he could keep his earnings.
Angry guy is packing up his work station in the background.
Another one of the new shops is a little less formal, but a lot more tasty. This guy set up a candy store just off one of the main streets. We struck up a conversation to see what he had, and he offered some free samples of the candied nuts. We purchased several varieties to take with us as snacks for the ride to the airport. Edgar’s youngest daughter Marie was making the drive back with us, and we needed to fetch her from Puerto Vallarta.
Don’t ask me what they are exactly, but they’re good.
We had to again switch hotels, since they were out of rooms, and we moved into a place just a five minute walk away. We didn’t have a bunch of time, so I walked across the street to get fish tacos, while Edgar got our stuff to the rooms. You can’t drive past a surf break without at least having a look, so we took the scenic route toward the airport and stopped by Punta Mita. There wasn’t much to it so we kept on.
We also had another mission in mind. Casa Aves has had a table and chairs outside on the bodega since we’ve owned it, but the seats just aren’t comfortable. Several furniture stores line the way to the airport and we stopped at a handful, but didn’t see exactly what we wanted… at least, not for a good price.
The PV airport stays pretty busy, so we camped out in the stream of arrivals and kept a keen eye out for Marie. At only 18 years old, she’s already well-traveled and quite accustomed to this particular route. While we were keeping our eyes peeled for her, a familiar face appeared. Our friend and sometimes driver, Espie, was at the airport and we chatted for a moment about family, business and how things were going for him in general. Seeing people you know at an airport in Mexico, reminds us of how small the world is, and how much this section of it feels more and more like home.
After we grabbed Marie, we headed back to Sayulita and went for another stroll on the beach. There are always vendors walking up and down the beach and offering something. This time we ran into a guy selling Mexican blankets. We had seen them before, but this guy quoted a price we couldn’t pass up, and we wound up with a really nice blanket.
On our way back through the square we saw a group of little boys skateboarding, and showing off their tricks. We watched for a while and then Edgar asked if he could have a turn. They thought that was kinda funny but gave him a board. He skated for a bit and then said, “Wow! Why are your wheels and trucks so loose?”
“Because we’re surfers,” came the reply.
Little skater/surfer making it look easy
We had agreed to meet up with our house host for dinner. A local artist, who came to Sayulita by way of Italy, stays at Casa Aves year-round, keeps the house nice and is a great resource for guests. We met at Don Juan’s just up the street from Aves and shared a meal and good conversation. After dinner we went for another walk, and then turned in for the night. One of us planned to surf in the morning, while the other two had their eyes on a yoga class.
This is a recap of day four of our surfboard run from Houston, Texas to Sayulita, Mexico. If you missed day three, you can catch up here.
On day four we decided to soak in the view a little longer, and have breakfast by the water. We ordered lattes and shared this plate of pancakes with fruit. It was as delicious as it looks.
We could have spent the day there just enjoying the view, but we also wanted to get to Sayulita and maybe find a wave. Sayulita has grown as well, in the 3-4 years we’ve been visiting. The official population is about 5,000, but there were tons of people in the streets and walking around the town square. We stopped off at Casa Aves to drop off the boards, but we were unable to stay as a nice family from Canada was renting the place for the week. Instead, we booked another place in town and then hit “Wild Mex” a coffee/surf shop across from a local break. They’ve expanded too, going from just a coffee stand, to a restaurant with lots of tables and open air seating.
The break, called “Burrows”, was pretty busy but we found our spots… Edgar hit the lineup and I headed down the beach where it was smaller and less crowded. I was comfortable in my shorty (wetsuit that comes to the knee) – the water temperature was on the way up but not bath water yet. We caught some rays and nice waves and enjoyed the beach. We always seem to be starving after a surf session so we hit the showers then hit one of our favorite beach-side restaurants for Mexican pizza. People were still surfing the beach break, wringing every bit of swell out of the day.
Sayulita has a square where people are usually lounging or snacking, or just watching others go by. This visit we noticed a new selfie opportunity. New letters have been added to the square for pictures and there are no shortage of models.
There are a couple of places in Sayulita that serve ice cream and we’re quite familiar. We got our treat and then enjoyed an evening stroll. We spotted the guy who offers folks a seat on his burros for a small fee. He only had one long-eared friend when we first saw him; now he has three. Business is booming, and more and more visitors are enjoying Sayulita’s charm.
This is a recap of day three of our surfboard run from Houston, Texas to Sayulita, Mexico. If you missed our run-in with the cartel on day two, you can read about it here.
Day three began with free breakfast at the restaurant next to our hotel. We carried on an animated conversation with the waitress, her side all in Spanish and ours mostly in English. She was sweet and trying to help us, but looked around the restaurant a few times, obviously looking for a coworker who spoke English. We understood each other well enough to settle on eggs, beans and bacon, and a dish we didn’t recognize, but ended up being green sauce over tortillas and very good.
Even if you’ve never traveled to Durango, you’ve likely seen pieces of it. It was a big destination for the film industry beginning back in the 1950s. The vast desert and cheap labor drew many productions to this Hollywood of the South, and there are ribbons of super-sized film above the main drag as a reminder. According to a 2003 article in the Washington Post, John Wayne, Clark Gable, Rock Hudson and Rita Hayworth all shot movies in Durango.
We wanted to stay longer to explore, but we had set our sights on checking out the big fish of El Salto. If the internet could be trusted, this town in the middle of no where had some of the best large-mouthed bass fishing in the world. We couldn’t drive this close and not just have a look, so we headed in that direction.
The tricky part is, we couldn’t tell exactly where it was. We stopped just shy of the city at a gas station, and wandered in. There was a woman working the register, and a couple other folks having a snack. We used our rough Spanish to ask where we could find the pescado with the grande boca. They pointed and gave us directions, but it seemed to be for another place where we could stop and ask. We admired her bottle of tequila with a large scorpion inside of it, which was then offered, no gracias, and we hit the road in the direction we were given.
A few miles down the road we found a turnoff for a camp site that looked promising. The first resident we encountered was an old man who was deep into a rock-painting project, and being monitored by a friendly dog that looked part lab, part pyraness. The painter didn’t know about the fish and sent us up to the office. The girl inside said they had fish there but they were very small. She showed us with her fingers. She said she’d get her husband who spoke English. Kevin spoke perfect English, having grown up in Arizona. He showed us around the fish farm, where they were raising trout. These were not the trophy bass we were after, but were interesting to see anyway, and Kevin and his wife were very nice and obviously proud of the place. Kevin said what people come to do here the most is relax but sometimes they also walk the bridge made of rope and make bets on how far their friends will go.
We got some information about the cabins and made tentative plans to return on our way home. Our fish search had to be set aside as well, since our goal was to stay in Chacala that night.
On a previous trip, a local had told Edgar about a secret wave south of San Blas. We had that on our minds as we made our way toward the coast, and caught our first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean.
We got on the road to the secret break, passed by the outdoor restaurants and pack of stray dogs and rumbled through the jungle a bit. The swell turned out to be small, so we moved on to Chacala.
This is the “road” to the secret surf break.
Chacala has exploded in the past couple years. There were more tourists on the streets than we’ve ever seen before. We found a hotel with rooms available, and made friends with the clerk’s daughter Alice, who was about three and lugging around a baby doll. She and her father helped us find a place to park, and then we walked to a beachside restaurant for dinner.
Nearby La Cruz is a popular starting point for sailboats making long trips across the ocean, so we saw many bobbing around just off the beach. We dined on shrimp (Chacala translates to “where there are shrimp”) with avocado and chips and guacamole, and then went to bed dreaming of waves.
On day four, we finally pull into the driveway of Casa Aves, only to realize we can’t stay.
When I told my friends and coworkers I was going to vacation in Mexico, they nodded in an understanding way and asked, “Where in Mexico? Cancun?” Well, not exactly.
This was a vacation with a mission. A misscation. Edgar has some… let’s call them “extra” surfboards that he wanted to take to his rental house in Mexico, where guests could use them. The airline wanted $150 per board to fly them down there. We did the math and a new plan emerged… drive the boards down to Sayulita.
Houston to Sayulita is about 1,139 miles give or take, so about 21 hours of driving. That’s an average, but we were going to take Edgar’s 1992 Land Cruiser, and although it’s very reliable and roomy, it’s no speed demon. It’s a cruiser. We planned for three days down and three days back. We wanted our trip to be tranquillo, so we loosely planned out the stops without making a firm booking. After all, this wasn’t our first Mexico road trip. Edgar and I drove a baja bug down from California to Baja Mexico and across on the ferry to the mainland last year. (You can read about that journey here.) Edgar took his motorcycle down on one journey and back on another, and the Land Cruiser spent some time there over Thanksgiving a couple years ago. This wasn’t new territory, and what’s more, it sounded like fun to us, so we packed up a backpack each, and filled the rig with boards.
We left Houston on a Saturday morning, planning to spend the bulk of the day in Rockport, Texas, working on Edgar’s boat. He recently purchased a 40-foot trawler, and it’s been pulled out of the water for some TLC.
We spent a few hours working in the engine room and driving around town for parts. We paused for lunch at a place on the water serving chips and queso and oysters. (not combined) In the early evening, it was time to make our way to Laredo, which feels as much like Mexico as any city can, without the visit with the federal agents. We’ve done our research over the years, and always cross the border at daylight. We found a place to stay and a restaurant down the street. The order of mango habanerowings looked great, but when I took a bite I shot hot chicken habanero sauce directly into my eye, and it burned like fire. I had to rush to the restroom to rinse out my eyeball before I could get back to my meal.
After dinner we settled in for a good night’s sleep, our last one for a while on this side of the border.
On Day Two, we cross the border, hand out our first mordida of the trip, and run into a couple of dudes who claim they’re with the cartel.
We’re taking a look at some of our favorite photos over the past few months. What’s in store for your next adventure? Whether you’re going across town or across the country, share it with us in the comments.
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