Punta San Carlos Home sweet home....

An old friend Carlos, from way back in the windsurf wavesailing days gave me a call today as he needed some strap pads for a new surfboard he wants to kitesurf with down at San Carlos this coming weekend. The enthusiasm in his voice was identical to that twenty years ago when we would head down there with stacks of windsurf wavesailing gear, surfboards, mountainbikes and maybe a bag of potatoes to carry us through. The epic waves of San Carlos had us heading down to the desolate arid magical dessert location for any south swell that could possibly impact it's potential, perfect one mile right forming reefs. In-numerable trips started out as a four day and ended up two weeks with food brought in by other surf heads that happened to be heading down. Back then there were only a handful of us wavesailing the point and well before the Eu notification of the best wavesailing spot on the West Coast. Brian Caserio and his wife would be down there ripping it up after a drive from the Central Coast Ca and often on their way back from other great Baja wind and surf spots. Clark, Merritt, Morgan Runyan, Mark Moody, Bob B, Billy Wilson, Scott Richards, and a bunch of other Malibu surf nuts would pile into all forms of semi maintained four by fours for the long drive and nasty dirt road into the greatest escape Baja could offer.

Carlos would say good by to his family and fill up his van in a flash to secure a campsite near the cliffs overlooking the vertical bowl section of the SC wave. You could go for a surf in the morning and a run or bike ride and be sure if there was any heat in the desert, the wind would kick in by noon. The nights were an amazing panorama of stars so bright, you felt like a space traveler. No wonder the old native shawman that lived up on the messa a few thousand feet up built a observation center, He witnessed the arrival of the european scavengers and the introduction of syphilis, small pox, etc. that combined with slave labor would dessimate his tribe. The precious metals pulled from the area are no longer the draw for the gringos and other world travelers but rather the majestic beauty of a simple no frills adventurer getaway to the basic tenants of wave, water and advanced primate.
Clark Merritt, as the rest of us, hoped that this magical spot would not become overcrowded and untenable. He went in with Solo sports and decided the best way to keep the area maintained and open to all was to make sure the business started there would show respect to the local ahito while providing proper sanitation and garbage disposal for those who did the drive to camp or stay in there high end tent camping environment.

So much of my life revolved around any size south swell and saving up the gas money and insurance for the drive down to San Carlos. Remember friends coming to my lifeguard tower in Malibu to tell me a swell was about to hit and the four hours of packing as we staked heaps of boards, masts, tarps, tents, sleeping bags and cans of beans on top of the old truck for a four am start down the next morning. The State and County could find a guard to cover for me. Life was short and a chance at a huge areal on a 15 plus foot face of a wave repeatedly down the line would make up for any hours spent in a nine to five. Sure some of the gang flew down there in private planes to hit the remote strip but all those professionals shared the same credo as those of us limited to land transportaion. It is all about the adventure.


As the years went by, the crowds built up and along came kitesurfing. Now over 300 days semi localy was available and the long drive for sufficient wind to windsurf wavesail was not as necessary. The early trips down with non depowerable kitesurf gear kicked my arse a bit though still had fun. The PL arcs soaked up the gusts and San Carlos was THE destination again. Unfortunately could not take our new students there and south swells at San Quintin and great down winders were always follwed by reflections in my mind of what the conditions would have been like in San Carlos just another four hours drive south. I've broken the suspension arms clean off my truck on the road in as well as seeing a bazillion other hardships of the trips in and out and most importantly of course of the amazing destination itself and those memories skip through the old noggin every day. John Bayless, Stephan Cook, Vic Enright, Strat, and many other kite buds have gone down to San Carlos with me since the kite days began and it is always a stop on the way down to Abreojos and back.

Regardless of road conditions, stories of the unrest and criminal activity along the boarder, San Carlos will always be my spot of choice to get away from the pressures of the day to day and escape into the cool pacific shoulders of an early summer south swell. Tried to paraglide the place once though the wind was a bit strong and hope to soar the mesa some day as well as experience a solstice at the shawman's cave way up that long hike. Archeologic teams spend a lot of time in the area now and Clark has made some significant finds himself to bring them in. The white specked blue lines of wind blown new swells must have mezmorized the locals here in ancient times and the same feelings of peacefull bliss sooth those city shattered nerves for those of us riding the waves there now. Sure it is not the Thurston Howel posh island hotel spot with trade winds, waiters and a botique for the wife but rather a very fulfilling, sort of six hour session, bloody hand, wind dermabrasion experience endured with the assistance of Modello and tylenol for some, taquilla for others and chocolate soy milk for me. No night clubs and maybe it sometimes gets so windy that you fart dust. Saying that sort of thing is even ok in this non yuppie Yosemite. There is some very dusty five year old surf mags in the outhouses but you tend to not read them but rather leave the door of the plywood box open, watching the evening sun set and those laser beam bright stars come while taking in the crisp desert night air and just feeling the promise of tomorrows adventure. There should be a note on those outhouse walls that reads, "don't sit here too long looking at the views or proctological help might be necessitated" Just buy the great photo post card from Clarks lifetime camera lens skills in the memorabilia shop at the top of the camp grounds and next to the customer bar. They rent gear and show movies in their entertainment room if you are a customer there.
Here's to more San Carlos dreaming and new adventures. It would be nice to take the family there but in all honesty, if they don't like roughing it, you are better off at the Hyatt in Maui. This place just calls to a certain kind of person. Problem is, the place is still just screaming in my ear and won't stop.
Good Winds.
Traig