Mexico Surf Trip
Surfing Los Angeles can get pretty tiring, especially if you have to choose from screaming locals in the waters of Malibu or the Manhattan kung-fu ninja warriors trying to throw you in a head lock at a beach parking lot. The only way to find a peaceful place to surf is down south, where the locals are a bit more laid back compared to the hustle of the city. You can usually find the boys and I camping out to surf the San Clemente beaches on any given day, but we’ve always wondered how much better it gets below the border.
Eventually, we had the opportunity with the surf & coffee brand, Emissos, for a surf trip. We packed our bags and blazed our way down to Baja. Landing next to Rosarito Beach, we immediately trekked down to see nothing but a washed out beach, completely unable to surf. So we loaded back in the truck and decided to keep pushing further down south.
Driving next to the coast, we spotted a small line up of surfers on an unbeaten path. We entered through numerous pull outs, trying to find a way down to the break, constantly running into dead ends or tourist traps where they would pull you over to try one of their “specials”. Slowly losing hope but not willing to skunk out, we kept pushing on until finally we found our little piece of heaven.
Heres the directions to the spot: Right on the dirt road, left where the stray dogs and roosters meet, if you see a one way dirt road and a cliff deep enough to drive your 4x4 down the mountain, you’ve found the place!
We get out of our truck to scope the surf, as we look over the cliff we see nothing but solid consistent lines, perfect peelers and a line up of 4-6 surfers. We stoke out, jump into our wetsuits, grabbed the emissos boards and split, running down the rocky, but only access point to catch our first wave in Mexi. Oh man, those waves.
After hours and hours, we were spent and made our way back to town, but of course it aint surfin’ Mexico until you get pulled by military and interrogated. One of the boys had a pocket knife and with the lack of poor Spanish speaking, they intend to “process” us, which later found out meant that they were gonna put us in cuffs and sent away. After multiple miscommunications and pulling excuses out of our asses they let us back in our trucks and we make our way to our place. We set in, lit the charcoal, cracked the whiskey and binged on tacos and beers all night.
Besides almost getting arrested, Mexico couldn’t be any better and the waves were nothing short of amazing. They were as perfect as the sound of clinking and two pints of Cornas.
Cheers!
