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Northern California is an area of the country unlike any other. Not too hot, not too cold. One can get that big city feeling in San Francisco and then drive twenty minutes away and be in a beach town like Pacifica. I could do without the neverending parade of European tourists but that’s pretty much par for the course in any large city in America. Other than that and the outrageous price of living which appears to be pushing more and more people farther away from San Francisco proper, I have nothing but love for NorCal.
But this isn’t about San Francisco. It’s about heading down south of The City, and it’s where I forgot about a lot of bullshit for about four hours on a foggy, slightly chilly Saturday morning in early September. I hate getting sentimental or introspective when I don’t absolutely have to, but on occasion, it’s necessary. Northern California is a magical place and I know everyone hears sentiments like it all the time but it’s honestly true. I never bought into it until this past weekend when I went surfing. It’s a cure-all and I don’t know why. Boogeying on down the line. Wrapping it back into the pocket. Jamming her off the lip, you know?
Wedged between San Francisco and Half Moon Bay is the city of Pacifica. The houses, the restaurants, the people walking up and down the beach – all of it screams “California Cool.” It’s a vibe. It’s a demeanor that an outsider like myself can only dream of emulating. Years of getting absolutely thrashed by waves that a greenhorn like myself wouldn’t dare go near gives the surfers of Pacifica a weathered, seasoned look. They’ve seen some shit, man. Half Moon Bay hosts the prestigious, incredibly dangerous “Mavericks” competition every winter, so obviously the surfing isn’t as intense in Pacifica, but it’s more than enough for most people who just want to catch a few tasty waves.
At least from my perspective, Pacifica doesn’t have the pretension that San Francisco seemingly runs on. To put it simply and in terms I hope you’ll be able to understand, Pacifica drinks Maxwell House. It’s a twelve-cup pot from a Mr. Coffee type of place. Neighboring San Francisco? Free-trade, organic Arabica beans from the local corner store or get the fuck out of their face.
I could be completely off on this sentiment that Pacifica is a down-to-Earth community that had the misfortune of getting stuck next to ostentation incarnate (commonly referred to as San Francisco), but the few hours that I spent there were filled with warm greetings from strangers on the beach and none of the territorial surfer bullshit that I was expecting.
Pacifica is a quintessential surfing community, and although I had never been surfing in my life, I knew I was going to be a natural the second I got my board and started practicing the act of “getting up.” That irrational self-confidence is what keeps me going. It’s why I can walk into a bar and not sweat it when a nine ignores my advances and it’s why I can put a wetsuit on, nosedive on a perfectly good whitecap, and then stand up on my board ten minutes later and make the shit look easy. Yes, surfing is incredibly hard and I realize that even calling myself a novice surfer after one lesson would be foolish. But I had fun and I caught quite a few waves over the weekend so in my mind I’m pretty fucking good at it.
It’s what got me the adoration of the two French surfing instructors on that Saturday morning and it’s what got me out of a funk which I’ve been in for about a week and a half. Surfing is a cure-all and I’m already trying to get down to the gulf sometime in the very near future for a little surfing in Texas. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the fact that all of your energy and attention has to be on the wave behind you. Maybe it’s the beating your body takes from those cascading walls of water which makes you forget about anything else. I don’t know exactly what did it. But surfing was a reprieve for me. It’s the best. I rode the wave this weekend and I liked it..
Surfing, to get existential, is allowing oneself to put what’s on the land and leave it there. I’ve lived in Florida for 14 years and surfed through all of them, and there is nothing like it. As a hippy myself, the culture of surfers pervades this feeling of “it’s alright.” Hell might be falling from the sky, but the surfers remark is “it’s alright.”
So even Jesus retired to Florida.
Well, there are a lot of Jews there.
Damn right. When I visit Miami it’s like ins dining with sinners again. Plus, can’t get mad about it being the golf capital of the world.
Holy shit we finally agree on something, John
Costa Rica has some of the best and most consistent waves on the planet. You’re welcome guys. It’s also where my camera gear was stollen along with my passport, phone, my gf’s phone, and my bag so it’s not all sunshine and happiness guys, there’s pain and sorrow there too
Can confirm. Costa Rica has great waves. It’s also nice and cheap, but the roads are shit. Pretty much on par for central america.
stolen* Also, sorry for your losses
I hear Rico has been looking for you. Pussy.
Say less, do more
Appreciate the correction and the condolences.
You fucking suck, you know that?
How are the waves on the gulf coast of Texas? The west coast of Florida is usually smooth as glass
Unless a tropical wave goes through, the gulf is typically silent. Hermine put some sweet peaks around PCB.
Kiteboarding would be the way to go, there’s usually more wind than good surfing.
“All I need are some tasty waves, a cool buzz, and I’m fine.” – Jeff Spicoli
Johnny, you may be a massive kook, but you’re right about this. surfing is practically a religious experience. I’m from San Diego and it’s the single greatest way to fix your mindset ever. if you like it now, just wait until you don’t suck. yeeeeeew
You’re probably gonna get some trolling/hating on this article, but fuck em, sounds like a hell of a time
So does this mean you got your fastball back?
South Padre Island has some pretty good waves. You will most likely want a big, long board, but they’re easy and consistent. It’s a lot of fun. The rip-tide is a bitch if you go on the beach without the jetties. It’s a couple of bucks to pay to get on the beach with a jetty, but worth it if you don’t want to have to walk 2 miles back up the beach.
Tasty waves? Chill vibe? Congratulations, you took a surf lesson and stood up for long enough to go straight and blog about it. Sorry but you don’t surf enough to deserve to write about it and when you try to describe it without having experienced it enough, then you take away from the culture. You’re pulling references from what pop culture portrays surfing to be, when it’s really what you don’t see and what you haven’t experienced….yet, I hope. It’s mostly not chillin by the beach in a woody and drinking a pacifico or dragging a 9ft monstrosity into the lineup. It’s freezing your dick off in 42 degree water in the outer banks when no one is out or it’s paddling for 25 minutes just to make it out at 12ft ocean beach. It’s the respect for the ocean and for being in something bigger and more powerful than you, that you just cant grasp yet. I applaud the effort, but spare us the commentary.
you’re really harshing my mellow rn
You’re the kind of self-righteous ass hole every surfer hates. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a purist when it comes to surfing, but even I know surfing isn’t about “how long I’ve been doing it.” You sound like a Brazilian kook who cuts people off, then blames the other people when your board gets dinged even though it was clearly your fault. I side with Johnny D on this one and he has my blessing.
Me too
I was on the fence about you being a badass with your wetsuit in 42 degree water and respect for the ocean, but what really pushed me over the edge was your concern for the appropriation of surf culture.
Oh you’re really cool because you’ve been in 42 degree surfing weather. Go back to it