know how to have fun, don't we little cheerleader?
I took a few pics and could put up a story.
Yes, I went to Mavericks, for the first time. It's an international surfing competition and, once the organizers decide the surf is right, word goes out and the contestants have 48 hours to come from all over the world. Last year, I had requested text message notification of this decision but it never happened. Surf was not up. This year, I heard about it on the radio and was able to make the pilgrimage.
I got to El Granada about 6 in the a.m. and parked across Highway 1 from the harbor in residential. Traffic was already backing up trying to get two blocks closer in the harbor parking lot. After walking a couple of miles, I found a spot in the ice plant at the top of the bluff by the radar station:
It turns out they surf off the point and I'm glad I had bought a pair of pocket binoculars as it was far away. Those are party boats and the small dots are actually safety/observer persons on Ski-doos. Seated in the ice plant, elbows rested on knees, I could watch the surfers catch the occasional 15-20 foot wave with pretty good detail but it was hard to keep a steady aim:
I saw some surfing but it was pretty slow so, after a couple of hours, I headed out. Lots of people were still coming in at 8:30. Maybe I'd go down to the beach on the other side of the point another time or bring a small telescope. Then, I drove down to Santa Cruz, stopping at Bean Hollow and I think it's called Pigeon Point:
Then, I went to Rio del Mar, where I wanted to get a Tuna Wrap at the sandwich shop but it was too early so I got a fajita chicken burrito, instead. The beach was closed as there was a lot of storm damage.
Typically, I will drive back from Santa Cruz on Highway 9, through the redwoods along the San Lorenzo River, Felton, Ben Lomond, Boulder Creek. There's a coffee shop just as you leave Boulder Creek to get a refill before heading up the hill to Skyline. Weather, season, time of day all conspire to create a unique traveling environment.
Once, the sun was setting and all the trees were bathed in rays of red light. Driving along the ridge on 35 (Skyline), you could look to the West and see how fog had completely covered the ocean from the horizon and the rolling, white blanket ran right up to the base of the coastal hills. Careening down the dark, 2-lane corridor between the redwoods, trying not to kill too many cyclists, you come to Sky Londa at the bottom of the dip, intersection with 84, busy hub of activity with bikers and hipsters at the cafe. The view toward the bay is usually less spectacular but far better than the rat-race on 17-880.
Down 92 from Skyline, across the San Mateo Bridge, gradually
returning to the everyday East Bay reality from that dream world, back home to Oakland.