Southern Sun by a Northern Bum...

Fortunate enough to get a little time off from our summer jobs, my friends Bonnie, Julianna, Tyler and I decided to head south in search of adventure, warm water and of course, a little late-season wave action. The weather cooperated, and we found fun lines each day. Below is an account of our time on the road…

The words “Heading South” for a group of Northerners can mean only one thing: warm water. We traded in our 7mm winter gear for board shorts and rashguards. Pre-surf shots of olive oil gave way to sweet tea and southern hospitality, and rugged, barren coastline turned into packed beaches with overweight men watching fishing rods stuffed in the sand - hoping for a bite.

(Outerbanks - A Lazy High Tide Afternoon)

The great part about a road trip is that you get to see it all: the good, the bad and the rest. There’s no option but to breathe it in and take it for what it is.

Our first day brought us to the steep banks of Cape Cod and a still chilly Atlantic. High winds and suspect conditions gave me a strange feeling of comfort. I guess, as cold-water surfers, it’s just something we’re used to. The only difference was this time we drove a REALLY long way to get there. But that’s just it: that’s the beauty of OUR search. It’s funny how no matter what direction we try to take, the theme of "the search" is always present. It’s why we love what we do, in the water and out.

For me it’s about that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach as you approach the cliff overlooking the ocean. What will it bring today? What can I bring today? To answer the first question: (and second for that matter) not much. Enough to get in, get wet and stay stoked for our final destination, now only two days of driving away.

(It's heating up!)

New Jersey looked like it was going to live up to our expectations. And at first, it did. Jersey has the highest population density of any state in the US. For us, this was a very unsettling statistic. Houses on top of houses as far as you can see. Eight crowded lanes of traffic. No space, no yards, and no driveways. In the spirit of adventure, and with some awesome local help (thanks Albin), we were soon surfing clean, waist-high wind swell. Small wedges that peeled left and right. Even just this far south, the water was warming up. One could only think about what might soon be passing under us as we floated towards deeper water. This spot was all about knowing where to go. This was Jersey after all, and we certainly didn’t have a clue. Luckily, our hookup did. After a short paddle out, I remember looking in and seeing a fairly empty beach. I feel very fortunate that we were able to get fun and empty waves in unfamiliar territory. Fifteen minutes further south of our first surf check (where it definitely wasn’t going off) and we had seemingly left the crowded feel of the Garden State. As much as I want to rag on New Jersey, I don’t have it in me. What we experienced was great and from what I have heard and seen, our experience was a rarity.

(the infamous Hatteras Lighthouse)

Our final destination, the Outer Banks of North Carolina, definitely lived up to the hype. After arriving, I think we all felt a bit out of our element. But, unlike New Jersey, this was a cultural change that we all wanted and needed. It’s easy to adapt to a climate where trunks in June is a staple. For us, of whom none had actually surfed sans wetsuit, getting out in the water in just bathing suits was a novelty. That’s a statement that can probably only be said by less than 1% of the worldwide surfing community.

The conditions weren’t all-time, but they were just what we were looking for - clean waist-high waves with a light morning offshore wind. Up early enough to score, we were alone in the Carolinas with no one else around except a line of pelicans showing us how to really catch a ride. An occasional bomb would come through, giving us a taste of what this exposed swell-magnet can really bring. Water temperature aside, this really was a unique place. Since we visited during the week and arrived just prior to tourist season, I feel like we got a taste of what this place is really like. It’s a community that schedules life around tide charts. The flow of the ocean dictates their every move. And that’s how it should be, right? This kind of synchronicity with a natural element is something that is very rare today. With this local vibe being passed around between surfers, ice cream shacks and back again, one can only hope the next swell will find its way towards Hatteras or Oregon Inlet.

So sure Delaware sucked. But what would you expect? Siding with the most cliché of trip reports, I really do appreciate what we have here at home. Especially after sharing such an experience with three of the best surfari-ists a guy could ask for. Yeah the water is a bit chilly and access to my favorite spots isn’t great, but heck, that’s why trips like these are so special. And that’s what keeps our sessions at home so fresh each time we fight our way into wet neoprene on the side of the country road and paddle out. Only instead of swimming alongside dolphins you glance over to see a seal peering back, wondering what the heck you’re doing.

Thanks for reading,

Joel

Anamayshun

Alex Kopps - Animation from RVCA on Vimeo.

Via Shakas and Singlefins.

Trippin'

As surfers, we spend a lot of time staring at the horizon: watching and waiting, and floating.

And then when it’s over we traipse back onto the sand – and despite the footprints proving the fact that our feet remain firmly grounded, the feeling of ethereal buoyancy remains. The whole world is wonderful and perfect and life is groovy.

On our horizon right now is the trip of the summer. It’s been said that planning is half the fun, but I’m sincerely hoping that we’ll also get to experience the whole fun all at once when we’re on the road and bobbing our way down the East Coast. Once things get underway this June, we’re hoping to provide full details, complete with photos and anecdotes from our adventure. Stay tuned.