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Saturday, January 07, 2006

Tim Gilberg

Saturday Morning Ron and I Decided to drive to a different surf break, It was called La Pastora. We stopped in town (Todos Santos) for Breakfast, after devouring a delicious mushroom omelet we were on the road

La Pastora is blessed with nice sand beach with fun rights and lefts and minimal crowd. To get there, go north just east of the old Hotel California. At the bottom of the hill, make a left and follow the dirt road several miles to the north. Keep your eyes peeled for a poorly posted Pastora sign and fork to the left.

The road was somewhat brutal full of ruts and flying gravel. Due to the low clearance of the mini van I cringed every time it scraped the bottom of the road.

As we reached the surf break we could hear the crashing waves, the surf was in the 7-8 foot range but the direction of the waves was causing it to close out, which in surf lingo means your length of ride is minimal and you get pounded to boot.

So we got back in our trusty steed (rental minivan) and grinded our way back to our home break.

We parked the van grabbed our boards and paddled out into the lineup. My surfing strategy is to sit outside, surf lingo again for waiting further out than most of the other surfers, positioning myself to catch the bigger set waves if they arrive

The advantage of course is that you have a shot at getting a large solo wave by yourself, the disadvantage is the guys surfing the inside section will catch more waves per session.

After about 20 minutes I peered at the horizon and noticed the color of an incoming wave turn a deeper shade of green, meaning a set wave was on the way. The ocean changes to a darker hue as if an artist was laying depth on a painting My heart started to race, there are several emotions battling inside my head the few seconds prior to attempting the wave. Not that I like to admit it but fear is one of them, watching surfers from the beach it looks fluid and effortless. Not True. When a surfer paddles for a wave they are laying flat on a surfboard inches above the water. The wave I was attempting to ride had a 12-foot face. To give you an idea lay flat on the first story of a house and look down. And remember the house is not a moving wall of water.

From years of experience there are several factors needed to make the wave, first off you need to gain speed by paddling powerfully, from a quick glance backwards you instantly need to get a read on the speed and angle of the wave, so as to position yourself.

As the critical moment arrived as it often does when I attempt larger waves, the clock seems to slow as if each second were a minute, but at the same time everything moves at the speed of light, I guess this is the true addiction phase of surfing, terror and bliss 1 second apart.

After springing to my feet as the wave begins to crest, the most critical moment is over. Standing upright you feel in total control and this is the ecstasy you glide and move at one with the waves power and energy, minute adjustment of my body weight will cause my direction and angle to flow.

I dragged my right hand into the face of the wave to slow my speed and stay in the critical most powerful section of the wave, The lip of the wave crashing with a thunderous roar mere feet behind the tail of my board.

This entire ride may have lasted 30 seconds, but in that period of time you are transported to another place.

As the wave came to its end I exited the back of the wave. Natures drug in full force in all of my being I felt as if I was paddling on air with endorphins crashing through my brain.

As I paddled back to the lineup, several surfers commented on the ride, which even lifts you to another level. A local surfer paddled up, and having watched the wave told me by dragging my hand on the wave (an instinctive move) it keep me from being thrown from the wave and he congratulated my on the best wave of the day.

These are the moments and memories that last a lifetime

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