Paradise Found

Sunrise from our window

After a bumpy start traveling together Megs and I found ourselves in an obscure little town on the coast of Oaxaca. Getting there included a minibus, taxi, motorboat and lastly a pickup to arrive to a place that was barely a village nestled on the northern end of a mangrove island. We did half of the journey with a younger couple bringing supplies back to their hostal. The four of us arrived late in the day. The first thing Megs and I did was walk out to the beach. Our first impression as we stepped out through coconut palms was two surfers taking off on a wave, each going in opposite directions. The right lasted for a while, I watched the surfer make creamy turns, backlit by the sun I realized that the ride was lasting as long as I’ve ever seen a wave last. I turned around and the sign for our new home read, El Paraiso, The paradise.

Happiest boat drivers

            The town consisted of half laid back locals and half surf bums. Huge shaded areas surrounded every hostal and restaurant on the beach and for a pittance you could camp and use the facilities. We decided to pay the 200 pesos, about $11 for a room. The lagoon mouth divides the town in half and a large jetty sticks out into the ocean. Jetties create sandbars, and sandbars create waves. The wave was soft, meaning that it was a slow, crumbly wave. The consistency made it ideal for me to practice maneuvers. Overlooking the town was a hill with a lighthouse on top. The whole town is framed in coconut palms, and beyond that mangroves and the lagoon.

Chacagua

  I surfed, surfed and surfed some more. I surfed till my chest was red with board rash and I would fall asleep exhausted before 9 pm. With nothing to do but surf both Megs and I enjoyed the waves morning and evening and relaxed in hammocks during the heat of the day. In the most protected corner of the jetty is a perfect “kiddie pool” of waist deep water and knee high waves. We played there and paddled out to the wave breaking on the outside. I caught some waves that were assuredly the longest waves of my life. I had time to think, to look around me and re-realize the magic that is surfing. Far away storms make pulses in the ocean that upon reaching the shore rise up and become a wave.

Megs on the Jetty

            Our last night, while we debated whether it was really time for us to depart we wandered onto the beach to play with my light up Frisbee. We saw that there was bioluminescence in the water. When the waves broke they stirred the algae and caused a glowing shockwave. Way cooler than our Frisbee game, we  stripped down and jumped in. The water was so clear that I could see the fish swimming by the trails of white sparkles. Every movement causes the bioluminescence to glow, by swimming the hands, arms and legs are illuminated. We did leave the next day to meet up with friends further north but the experience at Chacagua is one we will never forget.

Sea Kayaking!

I’ve been looking forward to going Kayaking since I arrived in Loreto. The sole reason for my time away from the waves. Other than my journey to whale camp I spent my days helping the guides prepare for trips, cleaning gear and organizing. Watching the guides paddle away with guests, heading towards the islands was hard for my adventurous spirit to bear. My chance arrived! The day before departure we packed all the food and equipment we would need for two nights out on the water. Our tour was small, only five guests. We were two guides, the boat driver, and me. ROW has a classy way of sea kayaking here in Baja, there is a support boat that carries all the food, water, gear and libations.

The northernmost point of Isla Danzante

Axel, our lead guide did the pre-trip orientation. During his talk, Jackie, one of the guests raised her hand and asked if she could be paired with someone who wouldn’t mind paddling while she took videos. Axel immediately pointed to me and said, “Alex needs the paddling practice, you’ll go with him.” The next morning we met the guests at the waters edge. Axel did another round of explanations, we divided gear and we were off. 

Our plan for the day was to paddle across the channel to Isla Danzante where we would eat lunch and continue to our campground on Isla Carmen. We were blessed with incredible weather. Wind is a serious factor in Baja and will shut down, or make sea kayaking quite challenging. Our first two days we had no wind after the wind ripping the week before, reaching gusts of 25 mph. We island hopped to our campground without difficulty, we even had time to go snorkelling. The world under the water is stupendously varied in Baja. There are so many vibrant fish, every way you look there is something to catch the eye. 

ROW cooking is decadent. Valente, our Pangero (boat driver), was an incredibly skilled chef and really patient with me, showing me the ROW way to camp set up. There is wine, liquor and appetizers served before dinner commenced. Every night there is a cake baked in a dutch oven. My duties were few, but I performed them with gusto, my main task was spending time with the guests and of course paddling. 

I really enjoyed the flow of ROW’s kayaking tour, we never paddled more than four hours a day. There were plenty of opportunities to snorkel, hike and chill. There was such a rugged beauty out on the islands. The desert and sea combination is absolutely magical, sunrises turned the mountains orange, the life under the sea continued to amaze and our highlight was getting surrounded by a huge pod of bottlenose dolphins. They were chasing a school of fish and kept us entertained with their speedy antics. I fell in love with sea kayaking, the equivalent of backpacking on the ocean. I have been invited to go out on a ten day paddle from Loreto to La Paz in March.

Whale Camp

Within the first few days of my arrival to Loreto for my internship, I was off across the peninsula in the back of a pickup. My professor and college advisor Chad Thatcher set me up with an old student of his: Chris Garcia, who now manages operations for ROW adventures in both Baja and Cuba. Chris was behind the wheel and the cab was occupied by his girlfriend, Dannica and the head of operations for ROW, Geff. I was on a beach chair nestled into gear.  ROW Adventures is an adventure company specializing in all inclusive trips around the world. One of the aspects that sets ROW apart is their commitment to sustainability, 5% of profits are given to conservation groups in the areas that they work.  

                I wasn’t expecting that one of the first things I’d get to do is go out on a tour for a night. I got an inside look on what ROW tours are like, and what the experience feels like to be a guest. Whale watching is the second portion of an 8 day trip that includes three days of sea kayaking in the Sea of Cortez.  Apart from the early morning chill, I was quite comfortable. I ended up pulling out my sleeping bag to protect me from the mountain air. The ride was beautiful and included my first sighting of a Caracara, a scavenging bird native to Central and South America.

                We made it to Puerto Lopez Mateos and hopped in an open boat with an outboard motor and headed north in the lagoon behind Isla Magdalena. I was in the boat with Chris, Geff, Dannica and our Pangero, boat driver. Our initial mission was different than the tours. We were scouting for future multi-sport camps that would include fat-tire biking, sea kayaking, bird watching and whale watching. Sea kayaking is banned where the whale camp is due to the large concentration of Grey Whales. Grey whales, which mainly feed in the Arctic Ocean swim south to Baja to breed, give birth and raise their babies before they head north. An incredible fact that I learned: Grey Whales, over the course of their lifetimes will swim the round trip distance between the earth and moon!  We motored into the mangroves and scared many egrets, herons, terns and Frigate Birds with our passing. We found the approximate location and got out to take a look, our Pangero couldn´t get the engine started when we tried to leave, so we ended up taking a longer walk across the dunes to the Pacific and back while he worked on the outboard.

The dune islands, Isla Magdalena and Isla de Santo Domingo are crucial to the lagoon ecosystem. They create the protected waters that the mangroves thrive in and the lagoons are exactly what the whale’s need for giving birth and raising their young. The islands themselves are home to birds, rodents, and reptiles as well as opportunistic coyotes which have become a nuisance to the camp. The night I was there a coyote stole a solar lamp. Most impressively, to my ears were the meadowlarks, they seemed out of place, living on a sand island nestled between open ocean and mangrove filled lagoons. Aside: I just took a break from writing to catch a bird, which flew into the guide house. A whole flock birds, cuitlacoche, just descended on the guide house in their squawking glory.

The whale watching excursions via boat were magnificent. The pangeros have been educated in how to approach whales and follow rules dictating the number of boats to a whale, two, as well as how close they are allowed to get to the whales, 10 meters. I have seen grey whales off the coast in Oregon, they stick close to shore on their migration to and from the Arctic. But I have never seen a whale so close. The most impressive part was the deep rumble as they exhale from their blow holes. The lagoon is filled with whales, it took us little searching to find a mother whale and her calf. We followed them closely for an hour while the mother guided her calf. The lagoon offers not only protection from the open ocean but a great training ground where the babies can train swimming against the tidal currents. As the calf matures and its curiosity grows they will come right up to the boat and will let themselves be touched. This happens in late February and into March before they head north.

The best time to view whales is at dawn. They are especially active and I got to see them “spy hopping,” which are the whales raising their heads fully out of the water to peek at the world above the waves. The camp is perfectly situated right in front of a main channel in and out of the lagoons. My favorite moment of the tour was watching the whales pass by camp as the sun rose.

The second whale watching tour that I went on included sightings of both coyotes and bottle-nosed dolphins. We traveled more and got to hangout with a few different whales. Each whale can be distinguished by their barnacles, Grey Whales are hosts to many different species of marine hitchhikers, biologist’s use the size and shape of barnacles to identify individual whales. Grey whales have no dorsal fins instead they have 6 “knuckles” on their backs. These bumps add to their prehistoric allure. Never having been so close to a whale, the monumental sound of their exhalation as their bodies slid through the water was jaw dropping. The patches of barnacles and knuckles added to the feeling that I was looking at a prehistoric beast. In fact, grey whales are considered one of the oldest species of whales found today and are the only species in their genus and family. On our way back to camp we came across a pod of dolphins, about eight individuals including one baby. The pangero swung the boat around and we played a game of tag with the dolphins for about 10 minutes.

I left soon after with Chris, Dannika and Geff while the guests stayed on for another day of whale filled adventures. I thoroughly enjoyed my short stay at the whale camp and am grateful for getting such a good  view of the workings of a ROW tour.

Pescadero

Pescadero was exactly what I was looking for when I came to Mexico. I imagined beach camping directly in front of a wave, sunrise out on the water and enough waves to go around. 

My journey was circuitous; I left a day late from the states. Missing my flight worked out. I spent the day sleeping off the sickness that snuck up on me the day of my planned departure. To avoid missing the next flight I stayed up all night playing Catan with my buddies. If you haven't played I highly advise it. Settlers of Catan is the perfect platform to burn up 21st century tension by trading, conquering and expanding your settlements. We've coined it hippie monopoly. 

Arriving in Mexico was the equivalent to a travel nightmare but I was in too high spirits to care. The contents of Alaska flight 626 were disgorged onto the roasting tarmac. After dodging multiple vehicles I finally made it to a non-descript door where I was ushered into the terminal. After passing an employee checking air conditioning ducts I progressed headlong into a thicker and thicker stream of humans. Promptly the human river came to a standstill at the top of a two story set of non-functioning escalators packed to the brim with vacation bound North Americans sporting shirts like "Cabo Fiesta 2017" and "Tequila, Fiesta, Siesta, Repeat." Two hours later I passed customs and was greeted by my intact surfboard. I was so grateful that I hollered and kissed my bag. On further inspection it took a small ding but nothing to complain about.

I managed to find public transit in a sea of mini-buses and taxis and began my bus hopping to Pescadero. I was deposited in the dust in a sleepy little town. I found a winding road leading to the coast and trudged towards the setting sun. About three quarters of the way two expats pulled up in their Tacoma and gave me an incredulous look, followed by. Hop in! They gave me a sandy piece of board wax and pointed me towards the free camping. The sun had set and it was getting dark, I was tired and looking for a place to crash. I figured that by walking to the end of the beach I might find a secluded nook. As I passed a camper van a voice yelled out, ¨Did you just arrive?¨ I answered with the affirmative and they quickly followed with, ¨Want some rum!?¨ They were Canadian, and dawn would show me that the majority of license plates were from British Columbia.

            The next morning I was the first one out in the water. The waves were heavy and thick, once people showed up, the vibes were unheard of. Everyone cheering each other on as they dropped into the heaving behemoths. I was shaky and nervous but managed to pull into a couple nice waves over the course of the morning. The best part: my handmade board performs like a dream! 

Adventures with a Canadian Fox

In the steady continuation of datecations with my Canadian love, I spent the first part of 2017 basking in the glory that is British Columbia. Gladly the incessant rain abated within a few days after my arrival and we got a few days of unreal, crisp sunny weather. We took full advantage of this and managed to snowboard under blue-bird skies, hike through the dripping Red Cedars that characterize the Pacific Northwest, and sea kayak around Gabriola Island.

Photo Credit: Megs

The wonder of Vancouver, as an outdoor enthusiast, is that for a city of over 600,000 people, nature surrounds and nearly engulfs the glass and steel cityscape. Three ski resorts within thirty minutes not to mention Whistler, just under two hours away. Ocean on two, or three sides of the city depending on where you are. Ferries that run daily taking you to the gulf islands or Vancouver Island proper. Needless to say, I'm in love with it almost as much as I am with Megs.



The moment I would like to share was a sunset walk that we took to the waters edge on Gabriola Island. We headed to a spot that Megs had been to before, a spit of land that becomes an island when the tide is high. The sun was setting and we were off; the walk was surreal. The cedars grew close together, making the forest floor a mono-crop of moss. With each step, the moss would pucker, swallowing our feet. Our ramble followed animal trails that meandered through this green and rust red world. A sound caught my attention to our left and as I turned the image brought The Wild Things promptly to memory. A Scottish highland cow, with huge curving horns, and a long wavy coat to match the trees peered at us with a baby by its side. The cow proved to be benign, content to watch us as we hopped over logs towards the ocean that we could perceive through the thickness of the trees.

We crossed the threshold of the forest to the placid ocean dotted with islands. The sun was beaming on the snow capped mountains across the Strait of Georgia. The sky was immaculate, not a cloud to be seen and the alpenglow rising pink off of the rugged treeless peaks in the distance. An eagle flew overhead and ducks bobbed quietly. The speed of the world slowed as the fading sunlight crept up the mountains.

The moment glistened with serenity. We sipped our teas and contemplated the magic that the vista brought. The combination of mountains and ocean is abrupt, wilderness in essence, yet its allure is undeniable. So beautiful that sucks the words out, replacing it with a sense of calm wonder at the beauty of this world. Moments like these, especially when shared, are gems that nestle into our hearts for safe keeping. Our walk back was giddy and silly, I felt I was humming from the awe and of course our furry friend was there to watch us pass. 

Gear Review

I bought my first pair of climbing shoes in high school. When I complained about the pain in my toes my climbing friend laughed and said, “Get used to it, that’s how they are supposed to fit.” Since then I have always equated climbing shoes with pain. In fact, it seems to be an industry standard and a literal take on the phrase, “No pain, no gain.” The Scarpa Vapor V’s are here to turn that concept on its head. 

When I saw the Vapors a the REI garage sale in October and slipped them on I was surprised for two reasons, they fit, and they were instantly comfortable. It felt like they were meant for me, green and tucked in a pile of miscellaneous shoes. I did a double take before I realized I was looking at a pair of sleek climbing shoes. At first, I thought they were too big but there was no dead space, they are just instantly comfortable. This is one of the Vapors best qualities, there is no trial time to break in the shoes.

On rock or at the gym the Vapors excel. With a slightly aggressive shape but a soft flex they hold a fine balance. They are designed with the reverse slingshot rand pushing your heel back rather than your toes forward increasing comfort. They are coated with

4 mm of Vibram Edge rubber making them grippy on even the most worn granite. The toe box is properly tight but not uncomfortable, and the sensitivity of the shoe makes finding the flakes for foot placement easier than I’ve ever experienced.

Climbing at the gym I’ve gotten comments from people about my sweet shoes. They aren’t overly colorful but the green pops just enough to catch the eye when you are making that sweet heel hook. My favorite part about them is the little Italian flag. Scarpa is proud and they show it. You should be too, sporting these great climbing kicks is like taking your climbing level up a notch just by putting them on. 

Since this has to be five-hundred words I need some space filler, but really what more can I say about a pair of shoes. So I’ll tell you a little about my first climbing experience in years. Picture this- Alaska, a craggy glacial valley and perfectly worn granite all over the place. My friend Daisy takes me mountain biking to one of the local crags. I have no shoes and haven’t climbed in years but she is encouraging. Up I go, leading some easy climbs in my bare feet. It was a blast and was the invigorating body movement and experience I needed after over a month out at sea and to get me excited about climbing again. I now have gotten myself a new pair of shoes and am back at it again. It is amazing what a friends enthusiasm can do to get the stoke flowing again. 

Salmon Fishing

A joyous moment!

Alaska, the last frontier, they say. The promised land some say. I have heard about this place of mythical proportions my whole life and I’ve been infatuated with the idea of going. Last summer I got my chance. I bought a plane ticket with the determined intention of salmon fishing in Bristol Bay. I had heard that this was the real deal, “off-the-road system”, removed from the rest of the country by ridges of glacier capped mountains, only accessible by plane or boat. On my flight in we passed almost directly over a smoking volcano and on my descent I saw a herd of caribou.

I was on an adventure. The journey pushed me beyond anything I have ever experienced. Sleepless days, nights never dark, but picturesque with rainbow skies. Fish, fish and more fish. Endless fish, I swore at them, prayed for them, and ate more of them than I ever had in my life. My world became a 29-foot-long and 11-foot-wide boat named Sea Breeze. However, there was nothing breezy about the experience. We launched into 30 knot winds and 8 foot seas. The first 48 hours were hell incarnate, I was soaked, shivering, puking and pulling fish in. The puking stopped, we fixed our leaky windows, and the fish kept coming.

Five weeks out in the ocean. Five weeks without feeling the land underfoot but learning to relax and rock with the boat. Whether sitting, cooking, hauling in fish or sleeping. The rock and sway became comforting. I had nightmares for two weeks, imagining all the terrible things that could befall us. But one by one we checked them off the list and I became more confident that we could survive anything. Engine fire, check. Grounding on a sandbar with the net out, check. Wrapping another boat in our net, check. The never ending near catastrophes became commonplace.

A hose clamp fractured on our coolant hose. Emptying our antifreeze, seizing up our engine, and breaking down our hydraulic reel. The net out and our boat adrift cruising towards the 1000-foot-long “trampers,” hitting one would mean obliteration. 900 feet of net loaded with fish, and they were still coming in. “Round-hauling,” pulling the net in by hand, is like running a marathon with your fingertips. Grab the mesh, lean back, pull as hard as you can, repeat. The conclusion of this act is a deck filled with net and fish, hip deep in it. The next step is to remove the fish one by one. Yanking, pulling and picking through the mess of net and fish.

There was beauty and joy amidst the overwhelming hardship. Watching the mountain ranges change to indigo under rainbow skies. The sublime calm of night, ripples dancing, reflecting the moon above. Fish, rooted to the cycles, 4-6 years swimming all over the Pacific Ocean only to return to their natal stream. Multicolored and powerful, unyielding in their determination to return home. Salmon Fishing, a rite of passage that taught me that I’m capable of anything.