I start my journey committed to change. Having found success as a son, brother, husband, father, and employee, as well as in business, wealth, health, fun, and happiness, I now want to find myself. I’ve never taken the time to look and am anxious about who I will find. It could be the me I already know, but I don’t think so. This requires personal work to learn and personal space to practice. And then change is supposed to just happen, maybe. It feels selfish, but I’m told it’s healthy and necessary, and therefore not selfish. Maybe the feeling of being selfish will change as well.
I’m giving myself time and space to learn and practice by taking this journey, unencumbered by the usual responsibilities. It is a journey of reflection. I plan to achieve clarity of thought through travel and extreme sports. At least that’s how it’s supposed to work in theory… we’ll see.
I left in a hurry. Four weeks to go on my work contract and an itch to get on the road. Friday morning I loaded the car in St. Petersburg, Florida, drove to a lunch meeting (nowadays, a rare and welcome event), and then kept driving. I reached California two days later.
Summer is the windy season on the Central Coast of California. The top windsurfing spot for riding waves is Waddell Beach, 60 miles South of San Francisco, a few miles North of Santa Cruz. The cold ocean current from Alaska combines with the hot desert air to create a powerful thermal air flow that blows down the coast. This means sideshore winds (blowing parallel to the shore), perfect for riding the powerful Pacific waves. It’s a place I’ve read about for years, where windsurf competitions are held in epic conditions, but have never sailed. Waddell was an exciting place to start.
By the time I reached Atlanta, GA, my excitement was wearing off. America is a vast country, thousands of miles lay between me and the Pacific. I stopped for the night close to the Alabama border and crossed the Mississippi in Memphis, TN, the next day. I spent that night in Amarillo, TX, and crossed the Mojave desert the next day, in time for dinner in Bakersfield, CA. I had travelled through 11 states that spell FLGAALTNMSAROKTXNMAZCA.
I saw a lot, but that was not the purpose of my trip. My thoughts were on reaching the coast and I was carried by visions of perfect waves. The car is a great place for reflection, so the time between playlists was filled with that, reflecting on the great injustices of the world, but mostly on ETQ, family, friends, and me, thoroughly enjoying the cathartic experience of uninhibited emotion. It was very much a trip through time, space and mind.
I joined the coast on the famous Pacific Coast Highway (Route 1). My first windsurfing stop was Arroyo Laguna, within sight of Hearst Castle near San Simeon, in the Big Sur region. Famous for strong winds and clean waves, I was lucky to run into a photographer on the beach (I promise I did not plan this).
Windsurfing the West Coast is challenging. The water is cold, 58 F in summer. The winds are strong, 30 mph when it’s blowing normally. The waves are relentless, from massive storms in the North and South Pacific. Oh, and it’s in the Red Triangle that marks the home of the Warden, the great white shark, so falling into the water is not just falling into the water.
The last leg of my trip took me North along the windy, majestic and so-very-slow Route 1 to Waddell Beach. I arrived at 3:30pm, welcomed by the wind and waves I had been promised.
F4 Plus 