Mierda Loca

There's nothing to write about.  The trip was booked on three days notice.  The scope limited, the goals modest.  And for as quick as a seven day trip to CR will breeze by like a Sinatra song, it turns out maybe there's more to it than that-

I think it goes without saying that I truly dig my time on the road with a fevered passion for the new and unexplored.  The drive towards scenarios free of direction has led me to some pretty amazing corners of Latin America, allowed me the time and freedom to expand my person and grow through the wisdom and vitality of complete strangers turned close friends.  The pure, raw energy of the unexpected and unknown fuel me like the sun, water, and cocaine.  What a way to charge the machine year in and year out, but as I said this quick shot to Costa Rica was different.  

There wasn't the new this time.  There wasn't the uncharted adventure full of question and anticipation, no this time there was exactly what I said:  Limited scope, modest goals.  So instead of the challenges that face a typical Overbagh, BS, down-south walk-about this trip was an easy breezy seven days to enjoy the company of some of my best friends on earth.  A return to the known, the normal, and the expected.  Like this-

You have seven days to run loose in CR because your crew back home are a bunch of gangsta ass thugs so..........

You kick La Liga ass for the Championship and party in the streets of San Jose til all hours of the morning

You surf big Caldera and scare the shit out of the Tico and yourself, way too big for either of you

You make a point of keeping it cool in Samara with beers, volleyball, and good friends

You surf Cameronal like usual, but it's big this time, fucking big.  Big Monday, bigger Tuesday, and biggest Wednesday  

You paddle around in legitimate 12-14' Cameronal and watch your best friend almost die, a very close call

You digest what it all means

You watch said friend live, love, and grow right in front of your eyes, maybe death was near, but the life, o the life!

You eat the best Ceviche, camp, and drink beers in the pure Guanacaste of Bejuco

You eat bocas on the last day your favorite bar in the world is open for business in the location they have been for 20 years

You eat bocas on the first day your favorite bar in the world is open for business in the location they will be for 20 more

You sow the foundations of lasting friendship with beautiful people, beautiful Anita

You run into Galan and Luis, yeah Galan the horse, and he's still a badass.  They both are

You surf Samara for the first time in years, you surf Buena Vista in perfect, shit conditions

You drink endless ice-cold Pilsens

You barely make your 9 am bus to San Jose

You sleep the entire way 

You rejoin the best group of friends a Gringo could ask for in Escazu for one more night on the town

You share the heartfelt embraces of those individuals that you are proud to say define you

You brown-out the airport experience.... again

You are in love with a life that refuses to slow down

You know that without trips like this to put everything in perspective,          

                                             there would be nothing to write about

--Aaaand here's Mick Fanning making our 12-14' day look like a joke--