So anyway, I’m prepping for my last night. I had decided to build a campfire – my first of the trip, actually. I had a little salad, a little chili and some campfire popcorn all set up for dinner. And I was psyched. I was going for a run around 4, was going to do some yoga. And then I was going to make dinner and chill out in front of my campfire before going to bed early. Everything was on schedule.
I took off for my run – I would normally run on the only road that winds through the hills to get to the Park. But this run was really weird. Because there was so much traffic. Traffic? 20 miles off the highway? Why were so many cars going by, over and over. Hmmm. Wait. Most of the cars are leaving the park. Weird. Must be a lot of people taking off today. Maybe a big family reunion type group all leaving together?
Yeah. Not so much.
Have a look at this photo. This was posted on the bathroom doors.
Apparently, my sense of dates got lost somewhere along the way. Maybe it got knocked out of me by of those particularly nasty waves. I had seen the signs, which were posted all around the park, but what I kept thinking over and over (after thinking “Wow. Is that for real?”) was that the date, June 27, was the previous week. Nope. It was tonight.
And my perfect plan for my last night went up in smoke.
‘Cause I was forced to leave the park.
FOR A FREAKING MISSILE LAUNCH.
Does that seem fucked up to anyone else? I mean, this is central coast California. Not Tehran. Not Beirut. A missile launch??? Get the fuck out of here! But a missile launch it was.
And I didn’t even get pissed off about it.
Because I was surfing. I was relaxed. I was Zen. (And unlike most of the rest of my life, I was actually well rested.)
And, if there are two things that I’m good at, it’s: a) rolling with the punches and b) making a plan. So… after a 2-minute period of mourning for my dashed last-night plans, I came up with an awesome newly-revised last-night plan:
Drive an hour into Santa Barbara, have a nice dinner and take a walk on the pier.
Which I did. And it was AWESOME. A gorgeous night. A great and healthy meal. (I even splurged, for the first time since Banff, and had a little sugar – a flourless chocolate cake for dessert. That, too, was awesome.) A nice evening drive with some great iPod tunes. (Check out this cool feature of “my ride” – my iPod plugged right in to the stereo.)
I gotta tell you, there’s something about the energy of Santa Barbara for me. It just feels peaceful and quiet and… right. And it was great. Here are a few SB shots for you all to drool over…
One thing that I decided on my ride back from SB that night, tho’, was that I didn’t really want to go back to civilization yet. Didn’t care enough about surfing for a day in Malibu to give up another day in Jalama. So I decided I was going to stay one more night, have my campfire and my popcorn. And I would tough out another day of Jalama waves.
Tough it out is only half right. The next morning was actually my best day surfing in the whole trip. And at the end of it all, I caught my best ride. And it was my last ride. Another great Jalama wave from way outside.
I was fatigued and tired. I was getting cold. I’d probably been out for about 3 hours. And I was ready to come in. And I was just looking for a ride to get in on. And then came this great set. I chose my wave, paddled hard, didn’t think I was going to get it, and then I was up. Smooth sailing for a nice long ride that I took all the way into the beach. It was the perfect last wave at Jalama.
I was giddy with happiness as I walked back to my campsite. I made some lunch, had a long nap and then I started packing. (I wouldn’t have much time to pack in the morning – because I had to get back to LA and catch my late afternoon plane to SF.) When the sun set, I made my campfire, ate my chili and lazed away eating my popcorn until it was time to hit the hay. It was grand.
The next morning, I got up and got on the road. But before I left, I sat out the back of my campsite, on the beach for a few minutes, feeling the lump in my throat and the sand between my fingers as I stared at the beautiful view. And then I climbed into my ride and made my way back to the land of smog and silicone breasts.
