Baja

From: Bob Galvan (kasplash@crl.com-DeleteThis)
Date: Sun Jul 20 1997 - 11:52:34 PDT


Received: from hplms26.hpl.hp.com by opus.hpl.hp.com with ESMTP (1.37.109.18/15.5+ECS 3.3+HPL1.1) id AA015635470; Sun, 20 Jul 1997 12:04:35 -0700
Return-Path: <kasplash@crl.com-DeleteThis>
Received: from mail.crl.com by hplms26.hpl.hp.com with ESMTP (1.37.109.16/15.5+ECS 3.3+HPL1.1S) id AA230685470; Sun, 20 Jul 1997 12:04:30 -0700
Received: from crl8.crl.com (crl8.crl.com [165.113.1.19])  by mail.crl.com (8.8.6/) via SMTP id LAA07343; Sun, 20 Jul 1997 11:55:02 -0700 (PDT) env-from (kasplash@crl.com-DeleteThis)
Received: by crl8.crl.com id AA01009 (5.65c/IDA-1.5); Sun, 20 Jul 1997 11:52:34 -0700
Date: Sun, 20 Jul 1997 11:52:34 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Galvan <kasplash@crl.com-DeleteThis>
To: Campsurfdawg list -- David Bartolotta <david@bartolotta.com-DeleteThis>, Clay Feeter <WTRACKSHQ@aol.com-DeleteThis>, "Colin J. Case" <102544.2240@CompuServe.COM-DeleteThis>, "Galvan, Daniel CDT " <x01397@exmail.usma.army.mil-DeleteThis>, John Egan <jregan@aloha.net-DeleteThis>, Eric Simonsen <ESSphoto@aol.com-DeleteThis>, Flash Gordon <flash@well.com-DeleteThis>, Leah Doran <vivid@surfnetusa.com-DeleteThis>, Lisa Bauer <recycqueen@aol.com-DeleteThis>, Liz Brady <floraslk@harborside.com-DeleteThis>, Edward B Doubleday <day2@interramp.com-DeleteThis>, Patrick Hamilton <mycochef@aol.com-DeleteThis>, Steve Ulrich <stevenu@unspoken.com-DeleteThis>, Wind Talkers <wind_talk@opus.hpl.hp.com-DeleteThis>
Subject: Baja 
Message-Id: <Pine.SUN.3.91.970720115117.994A-100000@crl8.crl.com-DeleteThis>
Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII

Day #12
=======

ROADBLOCK!

Some of our former neighbors from Campo Nuevo pulled in this morning with
the news that people are camped all over the road in downtown El Rosario.
The issue is that the Ejidos are supposed to get some money from the Feds
for The Highway passing through their lands. This has bee promised for
years, but nary a check has been cut. Now it has come to a head. Semi
trucks and touristas are lining the road, tempers are hot. No point in
leaving today...

The fog is high and thin today, the excellent waves are still with us, the
water is glass. But I can't handle any more paddling, my neck hurts. I'll
drive to the fish camp and we'll buy some jaiba (crab) y pescado. Tony and
I take Sean + Jenny (this is their first time here) and a cooler with some
homemade Nomadic ice in it. We get to the fish camp just in time to see 3
pangas do their surf landing and get hauled up the beach with a 4wheel
drive truck and a long rope. We get to pick out our fish and watch it
being filleted. The boss pescadero was only too happy to unload most of
the catch in one place for spot cash. He kissed the $20 bill that we
exchanged for over 5 pounds of fish fillets and 5 KILOS of crab claws.
Seafood tonight! Took the long scenic loop home to check out the north
fork road for crippled trailer travel (nope) and to give Sean and Jenny the
Grand Tour.

Back at camp, there's no wind, but great waves everywhere, and hardly
anyone in the water, or in camp for that matter. The population is down to
about a dozen vehicles. I walk up to Campo Solo, get Annie to get a
surfboard, and we go get wet for a while in the easy, sloppy waves of
Downtown. When I can't paddle any more I walk back down to the point to
see gorgeous lines rolling and sparkling in the low sunlight. I just gotta
go get one of those, even though everything hurts, especially my neck.

Good south swells have a very definite rythmn. You sit and wait for a long
time with no waves around at all, like for 10 or 15 minutes, sometimes even
more. Then a set shows outside. It stands up and rolls toward you. You
paddle further out, far enough so the wave doesn't break outside of you
(can you make it in time?) but not so far that you can't stroke into it.
It's a fine line. Experience, luck, courage, and karma all come into play
as the swell approaches. Something paid off nicely for me there, because I
stroked way out on the battle cruiser as a Big Mother loomed, spun it
around as the peak jumped up vertical, about the place where you think, "Oh
Momma, it's gonna get me!", and took two deep strokes to start the cruiser
sliding down the big slope. I'm the furthest one out, so everybody gets to
watch me drop into this big clean green. I better not blow it! Ah, it was
so fine, so long, so smooth, just what I paddled out for. Just one, just
that one! I climbed out over the rocks and went home to cook crab. Tony
came in after sundown, surfed out. Everybody happy.

Jackson stopped by and said that a new rig had showed up with roadblock
news: it had been opened for 2 hours to relieve the pressure, then closed
again. Tommorrow we have to go.



This archive was generated by hypermail 2b29 : Mon Dec 10 2001 - 02:32:16 PST