Abreojos and Scorpion Bay

Since internet is very random, I've been journaling every day and when I post blogs from now on, they are probably a few days, maybe even weeks old but you'll get the picture. This is from October 11. If you want to see all the photos, keep checking into the Baja Album

We are currently sitting at la Taqueria de Cristi in Scorpion Bay where I’m playing with Abraham and his 2 week old puppy, Bobby. Abraham is 5 and is fascinated with the computer camera and all the different effects. Even his grandmother (Cristi, owner of the taqueria) came out to have a look. Last night we brought in 3 large filets of corvina fish for her to make into tacos while we sat and enjoyed the gringo watching. Lots of retirees and LHB’s as my girls in Long Beach like to say. LHB’s are “leather hand bags” and it’s what people look like after too many years in the sun. I saw one lady who looked like Laird Hamilton, and you could imagine her not being the most feminine.  

Scorpion Bay is not the most convenient place to get to. You have to go down and back up the peninsula a few hours, but when there is swell, it’s world class and people come in from all over to get one of the longest rights. There are three main points and some say when 
it’s good, you can catch it from the 3rd point down to the 1st point, but I don’t think that’s happening on this trip. I’ve been practicing walking on the long board with all the old men and fat children who populate this small town. We’re in for another couple days, hoping the swell comes through tomorrow, and if not, we’re out maybe to Conejo. 

We’re now sitting on the side of the road, losing one of our crew, as Todd tries to hitch hike his way back home to a girlfriend in Montana we all hope is still there. Todd is the neutralizer in the group. He’s mellow and reminds everyone how easy life is. This morning, I woke up on the beach (first time sleeping outside for me) and Todd walks up and says:

“Good morning, seniorita. Welcome to the restaurant of dirtbags. Today we have coffee and oats. If you don’t like oats, there’s peanut butter. If you don’t like peanut butter, we have a bag of candy... for the kids...” 

Before Scorpion Bay was Abreojos. What a great spot, except those damn flies. The point was fun, but broke right over rocks, which of course  was a bit of a deterrent for me. My favorite spot was Petequi’s (not sure how to spell it). It’s also a right that goes forever, and on a 5’9 fish was one of the funnest waves I’ve ever ridden. The first time I went was with Kelsey from Santa Cruz. Her husband was surfing the point, and both of us looked at each other and said “hell no” since it was double over head and sketchy. So we ditched the boys for a couple hours and surfed Petequi’s with no one out except us. Surfing with her made me miss surfing with my girls back home. We were screaming for each other on every wave, even though they were only about shoulder high. The guys on the beach got a kick out of it and appreciated our energy. One guy Miguel, finally paddled out and commented on the girl’s heat taking over. 

The next day, I brought the boys back out to the point so Todd and Chris could surf. They’re both new to surfing so the inside was perfect for them. On our way back to drop Andrew off at Razors (no thank you sharp, shallow reef), Todd forgot his sandal so I drove us back to Petequi’s to get it. No big deal, except when the hard dirt turned into soft sand. We were stuck, and had about an hour left of good daylight. After 5 failed attempts, Todd looks at me and says “you got your running shoes?” I decided instead of running back to camp which was 3-4 miles on soft sand, I’d take my chances with the only two guys camping at Petequi’s who had a big 4x4 and were only two miles away. Luckily, I made friends with one of them, Jim, earlier in the water. I ran up and his friend Paul was just cracking a beer as he looked up and said “lemme guess, you’re stuck?” The three of us loaded into his truck, with a shovel, a rope that Jim found in the back of his bronco back in 1974, and three beers for the road.

Rewind for a minute. Earlier that morning, we found a guy who was also stuck pretty bad. We pushed him out and the last thing he said to us was “thanks guys, that’s good karma for your day.” Jim and Paul laughed hearing that and I assured them I wouldn’t wish them good karma on their trip because they would probably get stuck too. 

So we pulled up to a sweaty Todd who had another few failed attempts, but was happy to see his success in sending the girl in a bikini to run for help. I gave him my beer and within minutes, we were out of there. I left those guys some beer the next day with a note that said “cheers to good karma.” 

So Todd just got picked up and is on his way back home. There are now only three in the wolf pack, myself, Andrew, and Chris who will be with us until December(ish). Surf is small, cloud cover just rolled in, breeze picked up and we are out of beer. Looks like the whole town is mourning Todd’s departure.