Click for pics Tamarindo. Costa Rica. My new favorite place in the world. I recently got back from a 12-day surf safari where I stayed at Witch’s Rock Surf Camp. Normally I would write a large entry on all of my adventures and thoughts. But this trip is beyond words. For once, I find it difficult to write about my experience there. In fact I would go so far to say that the experience transcends the written word. Much like seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time or being in love (corny, yes, but to hell with it).
What did I do on the trip? Surf. Surf my guts out. Surf till my arms, back, elbows, and shoulders groaned with pain. Surfed till my armpits were rubbed raw. Surfed till my lips blistered and my skin darkened and my eyes became dazed red pits of dryed-out sun-burned shells. Surfed, gloriously surfed.
Continue reading ‘Costa Rica Surf Trip ‘10′
Click for pics With no plans on the horizon, Alex, Amber, and I loaded up the truck and headed north up the 5 late Friday evening to Santa Cruz. It’s a boring drive, filled with traffic, cows, dust, heat, and plenty of gas station scenery. Hence our night time departure. We arrived safe and sound after arguing metaphysics through the well-known theoretical model of Schrodinger’s Cat (for those keeping track, Alex disagrees that the cat can be both alive and dead).
The next morning we headed out in search of waves and found none. So to make lemonade from lemons we hit up Scott’s Valley skatepark. Alex and I ripped around while Amber sat on the Dad bench. Someone asked her which ones were hers, to which she replied “the two 30 year olds”. If you’re in the area check the park out. It had good flow, good pools, and the concrete was poured nicely. All escaped uninjured.
Continue reading ‘Cruisin’ Santa Cruz’