Back To The Middle Again....

[Capt Josh]

I'm sitting in the front seat of my trusty Toyota truck as i write this, the seemingly endless parade of traffic and otherwise idyllic scenery careening by as it has for the past week and a half since i left Puerto Vallarta, made a left hand turn north of Sayulita, and began a close to four thousand mile journey that has taken me through nearly two dozen states, three countries, a few hairy border crossings, countless toll booths, and at least one particularly nasty gale while safely tucked within the belly of a six hundred foot passenger ferry. As usual, there's been no shortage of shenanigans during this past adventure, and certainly no lack of fun.

It was with somewhat reluctant enthusiasm that we packed up most of our belongings and either sold them off in true Mexican black market fashion, or loaded up whatever was left into the back of the truck before setting off for Tofino, British Columbia. While Cath and i have surely had our differences over the years, the decision that the kids should return to Canada full-time for the remaining term of their education was unanimous. As much as Soleille and Kalum have loved growing up in Mexico, and beyond, there comes a time in a young adults life where the beach, and the surf, and the fishing, and the horseback riding just isn't enough anymore - as funny as that may sound. They've certainly enjoyed a diverse and remarkable existence thus far, having traveled from one side of our hemisphere to the other, and Cath and I (mostly Cath) have definitely provided an extremely well-rounded educational platform for them to blast off from from here on out. The kids both speak the better half of three languages, are competent athletes, musicians, socialites, and are extremely well-read and mature for their age - 10 and 12 respectively.

It's hard to imagine that time has gone by as quickly as it has. It truly seems like only yesterday that i was changing diapers, mashing up meals, dodging vomit, or cleaning up baby offal from the floor. Sigh....I guess they don't stay puppies forever, that's for sure.

I had a long time to consider these thoughts as i drove northbound. Mile after mile of contemplative introspection often provides for some startling revelations, but i couldn't come up with anything more profound than the fact that i was getting older, and the kids were growing up right along with me. It's certainly been a strange and unfamiliar journey for me as a father. I feel as though i've learned considerably more from my two children than they will ever learn from me. And I'm sure if you were to ask them they'd agree, especially now as they enter their pre-teenage years. HA! Those little buggers.....

So the odometer accumulated digits as the miles ticked by, the endless stretch of toll roads and limitless possibilities before me. Countless towns and taco stands bode reminder to the lifetime we've accumulated already, a very accomplished documentary of adventure, rife with the trophies of both triumph, and failure. And perhaps JT, despite it all, got a little older, and with a little luck a little wiser too.

-------------------------------

Our first real stop after i handed in the temporary import paper on the truck at the Mexican/Nogales border was Newport Beach in sunny southern California. Home to many of my favorite things, like surfing, fishing, and industry sponsors it wouldn't seem right if i didn't stop in and see at least a few of my friends and pilfer some treasure from the sponsor's warehouses along the way. The boys at Pelagic are always happy to see me walk in and i'd be lying if i said we haven't become a tight nit family over the years. After a great seafood feast, thanks again guys, the boys gave me a run-down of the agenda for 2010 and all of the exciting things we have planned together for the next year, and beyond. I've really enjoyed watching these guys grow and realize their dreams, as i'm sure they've enjoyed watching, and more likely participating right along with, my adventures too.

While i was filling a goody bag full of the latest Pelagic products (wait until you all see the new 2010 line up it's INSANE!!!), we received a call from Cath's brother Raph Bruhwiler, who was a little further up the coast near Santa Barbara hanging out with Tom Curren and Keith Malloy. He said the surf was firing and invited us to join them at a private access spot. Mike caught wind of what was coming and quickly bolted from Pelagic HQ right along with us.

We managed to negotiate friday afternoon traffic in LA with no gunplay, and only the odd middle finger to guide us on our way. How those millions of people survive in that kind of madness day in and day out is a mystery to me.

There's nothing like pulling up to an exclusive, privately owned section of California real estate, stopping in front of a huge iron gate, and then dialing up your blackberry for the secret access code that a couple of pro surfers have BBM'd you just moments before. When those big gates swing open and you catch a glimpse of the perfect surf peeling just meters away it's hard not to feel a slight tinge of shamefulness. Hell, who am i kidding, membership sure has it's privileges - AMEN!!!

We quickly suited up, hahahahahaha....again, who am i kidding?!?!?! I had to fight my 4/3 wetsuit for permission to enter. It's been YEARS since i've donned that much rubber - no pun intended. Zipping into a wetsuit is never as easy as it seems, and once in there's no hiding the fact that your beer gut is starting to outrun you. I was sucking in my gut as i waddled down to the beach, i assure you.

Mike, Cath, Raph, Keith, and i enjoyed a fun surf in some very zippy rights, lasting well into the dark before the hour of the day and the chilly temperature of the water chased us in to the sanctuary of the Malloy compound. Hot showers never felt so good, nor can i remember the last time i feasted as ravenously on a spread of tacos than the one Keith and his girlfriend spread before us.

The conversation over dinner turned to an even more exclusive piece of real estate a little further up the coast from Santa Barbara, called the Holister Ranch, where the surf was guaranteed to be EPIC the next day. For those of you that don't know, the Hollister Ranch is probably one of the most exclusive, privately owned pieces of coastal real estate in California. A haven for wealthy surfers and people who have made a mountain of money and just want to be left alone, the Hollister Ranch and it's very exclusive 14,000 acres is perhaps the most beautiful piece of coastline left in overdeveloped California. Keith Malloy was showing us photos from his last trip up there when a little light bulb went off in my head. "Wait!" i said, "I KNOW someone who lives there!" All of a sudden i was diving for my blackberry and searching my black book for the number of an old friend.

I first met Greg Alker in Punta de Mita nearly a decade ago, ever the energetic surfer, real estate guru, and fishing fanatic, it didn't take Greg and i long to become friends. We have shared a veritable orgy of adventures together over the years in Punta de Mita, and during the entire course of our friendship i can't count the times he's stressed that, "YOU NEED TO COME UP AND VISIT ME IN CALIFORNIA!"

Well as Mike, Cath, Raph, and I pulled up to the heavily guarded entrance gate to the Hollister Ranch this past weekend i began to realize what he had been frothing about all these years. Mile upon mile of pristine wilderness met mile upon mile of perfect, uncrowded point, reef, slab, and beach break. This was the stuff Californian surf dreams were made of, and i could plainly see why Greg had spent the last thirty plus years tucked away here. Once you get access inside the holy gates, it's very, VERY hard to leave.

Greg's place is an oasis of healthy, holistic living where solar power panels keep surf cams running, and quail blow by your heads in constant migration between the rows of fruit trees that line the orchard. As we pulled into his driveway he hopped off the riding mower, where he had just been doing donuts between the avocado, orange, and lemon trees, and shook off the grass clipping to give us a rowdy, wilderness style hug.

"Sonofabitch Greg" i told him, "I can see why you don't get out much!"

We quickly traded greetings and a few short stories before the pounding surf got the best of us. Swapping riding lawn mowers for surf boards we all piled into Greg's ranch truck and headed off for the beach, stopping just long enough for Greg to dive into the orchard and come back with an armload of fresh, organic California oranges, which he soon handed out for a pre-surf energy boost.

Mike and i were just shaking our heads as we pulled up to the surf, literally driving the truck right on the beach as waves lapped at the hubcaps. It seems that despite ourselves we are continuously thrown into situations like this, privy to the lifestyle of the rich and famous, though motley pirates we may be. It's really quite funny, and the irony is certainly not wasted on me.

I paddled out and quickly nabbed a small set wave, thinking as i spun around after the wave and paddled back towards the take off spot that, despite the burden of the wetsuit, i was managing to surf quite well. HA! Not so fast JT Slater. I proceeded to get unceremoniously ejected from the next set, and the set after that. Wondering how professional surfers like Cath and Raph, and long-time locals like Greg Alker make the hollow six footers appear so easy. "FUCK YOU GUYS!" i kept thinking as i hurtled towards the water, frantically gulping air.

After a while i managed to work into a rhythm, though it sure wasn't easy. Cold water, fast waves, and rubber, while not completely foreign, is certainly not as make-able as it seems.

We did enjoy an awesome session, completely unmolested by crowds, and in SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA of all places. Lucky bastards indeed.

Retiring back to Greg's ranch after the morning session we fired up the kitchen and literally feasted until our belly's bled. Mike saw what was coming and blasted back towards Newport, while the rest of us scratched our mid-sections and prepared for the afternoon session that still lay ahead. We swapped stories of Mexico, Cocos Island, remote Panama, and the Revilillegedo Islands. It'd been a few years since i'd shared a beer with Greg so there was definitely some catching up to do while our bellies worked at digesting the feast.

After we were confident we could move without cramping we loaded up in Greg's old white pickup and tore off for the beach again. The tide had receded by this hour of the afternoon and the waves were twice as hollow as they were during the morning session. I took one look at Raph paddling into a solid 8 foot drainer, watched him get unceremoniously ejected and pummeled, and decided to film from the relative safety of the beach instead of enduring another few hours of cold water beat downs.

For the next few hours i shivered in the bed of the pickup truck filming while Cath, Raph, and Greg traded solid set waves. Raph scored one particularly savage barrel that i managed to capture, taking off sideways he careened down the face and pulled into the barrel for a solid five seconds before the final section detonated on the reef. Raph calmly swooped out before the impending explosion and simply paddled back out as though it were all in a days work. I'm pretty sure i murmured an additional friendly "F-YOU!" in his general direction for making it look so easy.

One after another Cath and the boys traded uncrowded holy water, wispy clouds scattered towards the horizon, a variable offshore breeze grooming the marching northwest swells to perfection. Bird life of all shapes and sizes chattered along the shoreline, adding a delicate symphony of melody to the booming baseline of the crashing right and left handers barreling down the reef. It was the kind of special afternoon that gives plain and permanent reason for travel, the kind of natural mystic that gave guys like Bob Marley another reason to sing. Gone was the chaos of LA traffic, the intermittent madness, and all that it brings.

With a deep breath i tasted the chilly salt mist and the sharpness of the late winter season, turned my thoughts towards Canada and the journey that still lay ahead. Later that night, as we barbecued steaks over blazing oak fires i thought about all of the blessings the god's have so frequently brought us, thanking them for yet another adventure enjoyed in the company of great family and friends.

We set off again shortly after dinner, under a sky filled with the remarkable art of the heavens, hurried on our way by the nervous chattering of the quail in the branches overhead. We drove northward once more, sleepy, happy, and grateful. As the headlights illuminated the sagebrush lining the ranch road, i dreamed of how it could possibly get any better than this.

----------------------------------------------------------

Cath and i eventually made it safely to Canada, finally pulling into the BC Ferries terminal at Tswassen shortly before three in the morning. A savage southeasterly gale was berating the coast with seventy knot winds and driving rain, effectively canceling all ferry traffic for most of the day. As i sat dead stopped in the parking lot, getting used to the motion of the truck rocking back and forth in the wind, i couldn't help but compare the brutal contrast of our motherland to our more recent tropical past. It's a great metaphor for our own particular journeys, the ups and downs of adventurous living, and raising two remarkable children of our own. There's sunny good days, and dark and stormy's. Times when you just can't wait to get the hell out of there, and moments when you're just praying to make it back home.

[Tenacious]

Dam that was a great read!!! Thanks JT

[rabcoman]

nice to hear from u jt. any new fishing photos

[IglooMan]

Great reporting Josh. Glad to hear you made it up there safely!

[triniswordfish]

awesome writing jt i feel like i am right there!!! i would love to surf some of those places
to bad surfing is not an olympic sport

[richmake]

great read JT...welcome home!

[Capt Josh]

Thanks guys. I just woke up, in Mexico of all places!

Cath and i didn't waste much time unpacking the truck and turning it back around for the airport, and the warmer climates of PV. It took an additional day and a half of travel to get back here, but the 4-6 foot El Farro perfection that was waiting for us when we got here was certainly worth the trip.

I'm heading off to the marina now to fire up the Maximo and try and catch what's left of these tunas. The motherfucking seiners just showed up in town so it won't be long before we can kiss this epic tuna bite goodbye i imagine.

Anyway, here we are in more familiar waters once again...and the passport, well worn by now, continues to take a beating.

[showtime333]

Awesome read!

[Gmoney!]

must be bittersweet for the kids JT, and for you...just another chapter to close out in that book

I knew from pics I saw of the waves you guys would be all over that, in Cali and PV.

Greg and his bro are good guys, I have met and hung out with Greg in person as you know, since I believe you introduced me to him.

Santa Barbara is amazing, that is where I went to school, where I got married (Bacara Resort)...definitely has a special place in my heart.

Also read about those seiners, this is just really a tragedy. They are single handedly going to decimate that YFT population, as I am sure you have already witnessed in the past few year's fish sizes and quantity. This school that was there, imagine if it is left untouched by them... those fish would continue to reproduce, get bigger...you'd be back in 300lb cow country schools in a matter of a few years..really sucks..hopefully they find their way down to Panama for a safe haven.

[squirtis]

There's always a little salt from home somwhere in your mind...Enjoy it, enjoy Tofino when your there...let those kids experience another extreme in a lifestyle that many yearn for but few accomplish!

Here's to boarding at Whistler...surfing Tofino...and vacations to the tropical "home" down south