Tearing along Mex highway 200 I was in a panic to beat those beastly onshore winds and find some good swell. With no guide book, no map and no idea, I decided to revert back to my Baja way of wave searching. That being, take any dirt road I see heading towards the ocean, and once hitting water follow it south as far as I can or until I find a peeler.
Just as these thoughts had been decided upon a road west bound showed itself. Down it I went with a almost frantic anticipation. Throttle twisted wide open, standing on the foot pegs, focused on the trail ahead, trying to remember I am not on a bicycle going 10km/h but on machine, which likes to buck me, hurtling along at 90km/h. Reminding myself, this is just like being inside a barrel, look down the line, not right in front of you. Sandy section up ahead, weight back, give Olympia some more throttle, the sand is soft, a little slide of the front wheel, just hold that gas open, and hope for the best, that wind switch is not far off.
Following along side a river I pull into a small village, the village is not like any other I have come across. It does not even seem like I am in Mexico anymore. The people are darker with tight curls in their hair, looking to be of African decent. I latter found out that a Spanish slave ship came ashore in a wreak, where the slaves fled to freedom. Although from what I have since read from historian Eduardo Anorve it seems as though this theory could be a myth. However it makes for a griping story, so we will go with it.
I Parked the bike next to someones home, grabbed my board and heading towards the river. Wading though the mangroves until reaching the beach. Once on the beach, it was as though I had fallen back into another time, a time long since removed from my reality. Thatched huts huddled in a corner, a lone fisherman nude throwing a net, the only thing to snap me out of the fantasy was all the plastic litter on the beach. Looking out to sea I was greeted with perfect A-frames, which offered a little cover up on the take off, followed by a fun wall down the line. The water was so brown due to the heavy rains and ran off from the river. When sitting on my board I could not even see it below me. About an hour into the session, the back wash started up. It seems in Mexico you can count on two things, back wash and topes.(speed bumps) So I headed back to my bike, with a smile and a feeling of contentment, to continue on the dirt road south. The road only ran about 10km before hitting another town and river. So once again I headed towards the beach, plowing though some soft sand, Mr Olympia screaming with exertion. When we came upon the ocean, I was once again greeted with a pleasant surprise. Glassy waves and a lonely stretch of coast, that is apart from one girl sitting under a lean-to made from her board and a piece of drift wood. What the fuck is going on here I thought to myself. As I looked closer I noticed the board was a single fin. Hold on! I know that board and I know the person under it. I scan the ocean again just in time to see Dan paddling into one. What are the chance. Two friends from Australia are here. They took two boats and a ride in a truck, and a paddle across a river to end up here. I ended up here purely by chance. Life is to strange.
So after having another surf, this time sharing tales with two friends, laughing at the randomness of life we parted ways. I headed to a beach which I was at five years ago, thinking it could be a good place to hang the hammock for the night. Upon arriving to the town it seemed a little more populated then memory. So I decided on looking for a quieter place for the night. For paranoia is pretty high with me now, after being robbed so many times and having a completely irrational fear of the dark. As it would turn out I made the right decision. For I returned to the spot the following day, to find a burnt out car some 50 meters from where I had planed on sleeping. The car belonging to a taxi driver who was held up by three men with machetes in a town some 60km-s away. I was informed he was forced to drive there and when his car got stuck in the sand he was beaten, had his money stolen and his car set on fire. Would not have been the most pleasant scene to wake up to.
The spot I did end up sleeping for the night, was beautiful empty solitude. Complemented with a fun wave just a short paddle, or maybe drift would be a better description, for this river was flowing at a fare speed. The only bummer being I had no water and was pretty darn parched. Just as I was tossing up if it would be worth the climb up one of the many coconut trees, for I only have a small pocket knife to open them, to reach the delightful water, and it is a huge mission to do so. Luck once again graced me and the clouds collapsed due to their weight and the fly from my hammock acted as the perfect catchment for fresh water. Life at the moment is just great!