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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.
The next day while Amber was out playing some beach volleyball, Alex and I headed out with one of our gracious hosts, Don, to travel north to find surf. We found some water being blown into formations which we decided to call waves (a stretch by definition of the word). Now, I thought I had been in cold water before and was prepared for the surf session with my trusty 4/3 O’Neill Psycho 2. That was until the icy water first lapped at my bare hands. All I have to say is that I have a new appreciation for the warm waters of San Diego. My hands felt like they were being dipped in liquid nitrogen and my head felt like I beer-bonged 40 ounces of milkshake. That water is cold! I can’t complain though, no sharks decided to nibble on our chilled limbs.
Now for the part of the trip that was my favorite. The Santa Cruz skatepark. This place is awesome! I spent every day at the park and logged multiple sessions of skating glory. The combo pool with the full pipe has now taken first place as my favorite pool in the world. The flow is amazing, the concrete is fast, and there are lines everywhere. To top it all off the scene there is very chill and I had a great time talking to the locals. It reminded me of skating FDR and the spirit was very much the same. If you skate and are in Santa Cruz…go there!
On the ride home Alex took the backseat as Amber and I scrolled through some classic country Americana tunes. As John Denver, the Allman Brothers, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and the Marshall Tucker Band played throughout the Explorer, Alex slowly faded into the dark shadows of the backseat, realizing he was entering a world not of his Long Island upbringing. I can only hope that we left him with the taste of some country classics and he could imagine the slow rivers rolling through the green meadows and trees of the country, fish jumping through the glassy water. You’re welcome Alex, you’re welcome.
The trip was a good one and I look forward to returning soon! And it’s good to have the memories of flying through the bowls on my skateboard. As of now I’ve put myself on bans from skateboarding, less I injure myself right before my 2 week surf trip to Tamarindo, Costa Rica. Mmmmm…Cooosssstttaaaaaa Riiiccccaaaaaaaa….
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