The sky was overcast and palm trees lined the dunes to my left mirrored by the Caribbean Sea on my right as I walked along the beach, stepping into other peoples foot prints and wondering what it would be like to be duck footed. I was replaying my greatest and most humbling wipeouts that characterized my last two catastrophic surf sessions when I noticed three or four black triangles bobbing in the waves ahead. Upon closer examination I observed what appeared to be a local surf spot.
Adrenaline surged and I burst into action. I asked one relaxing beach goer if I could use his surfboard, but he declined. I kind of expected this. So I went around to each of the little thatched huts dotting the beach and asked if ‘puedo alquilar surfboards aqui?’, making sure to roll the ‘r’ in surfboard to better sound like a local. One abliging local with a Che Gavera flag planted outside his hut said I could rent his board and pay him back later – I had only expected to go for a walk this morning so I didn’t bring any money. This expectation also meant I was wearing khakis instead of a bathing suit. After thanking the trustful Che fan, I grabbed the board, took off my pants, and tied my shoe lace but around my bright blue fruit of the looms.
The forty five minutes that followed were amazing, and featured some incredible waves and a whole lot of jubilant Shaka flashing. As I sat on my board waiting between waves, I took stock of my circumstances. No one was about: just a couple of surfers. A boat was pulled up on the shore, some huts dotted the beach, and the perfectly triangular Sierra Nevada mountains rose into the clouds only a kilometer or two away. I felt a surge of gratitude and wonder.
Walking back, things felt different than my lonely exploration an hour previous. Not only were my khakis slung over my shoulder, but my spirits were higher and there was spring in my step. I marveled at how a single success could be so transformative, and even make the failings and stressors of a previous two days feel like a worthwhile adventure. In other words, I felt the stoke.