SoCal Surf Trip Day 2: The Run Around

Our first full day in San Diego was a tango to the tune of palm trees and blue skies. I awoke around 9 and spent a few minutes stretching lazily on the back deck of our friends abode, gratefully bathing in the morning sun. What a wonder it is to live in a land without fog. Minutes later I giddily packed our wetsuits and hustled our boards to the car. Our desination- La Jolla Beach.

A light summer crowd had already descended on the beach by the time we parked, and the main break was packed with long boarders. I opted to hike north toward the pier and as the waves grew larger, the numbers in the water thinned accordingly. I might have stood out like a sore thumb in my hooded 5/4/3, but I was comfortably toasty by the time I reached the outside.

The waves weren't as powerful as they had been earlier in the day, but the winds stayed light, allowing the shape to remain more-or-less unaffected. Every three to five minutes a clean, shimmering blue set rolled through granting me another dose of SoCal bliss. On one of the larger sets a pod of dolphins cruised through. Watching these mammals as they hunt is nothing short of breath taking- no matter how many times you witness it. Grayish blue fins suddenly rise from below, slicing majestically through the trough, and an instant later plunge to the depths. Another example of natural perfection leaving its mark upon your imagination.

By noon my arms were exhausted and I rode the remnants of a wave to shore on my stomach. Peeling myself from the neoprene suit I enjoyed a brief soak in the shallows before walking across the hot white sand back to the car. I found my partner in crime happily relaxing on the boardwalk and we decided it was time to make moves.

A smattering of work had to be performed before we could have any more uninhibited fun, so we drove to the cliffs at the southern end of the beach, grabbed a hearty sandwich, and posted up at a hotel bar for a few hours. Delicious mint & cucumber cocktails complimented our duties exquisitely, and soon it was time to scout out a course for a fun run-- our sole regimented duty for the week.

We jogged the small island in under an hour, enjoying the scenic bay and meticulously crafted faux paradise, then breezed back to the beach for an evening session. The swell was dying a slow death so I opted for a quick session in boardshorts and longboard. A few waves purged my last bursts of energy and I returned to the beach in time to enjoy a Haywire Hefewizen in the waning, orange and pink light.

The night was topped off with an instrumental medley accompanied by a nice bottle of red wine. I hit the floor like a sack of bricks. Never have I slept so well on an inch of carpet. This is how every day should end for a surfer.