- Dec 03, 2018 -
“What’s with Chileans and tailgating? He’s been on my ass the last 15 minutes,” Austin asked, weary after our first full day of surf and taking first shift on our all-night trudge up the coast. Just as he asked this, a tiny Mazda pickup swerved recklessly in and out of our sideview mirrors. “He’s flashing us!” he continued. Before we knew it the tiny pickup packed with four or more people hauled ass to get beside us and began yelling in what we could only assume was anger. Wrong again. Turns out, in our haste to pack we left the latch of our camper open. Luckily, the six boards in the boardbag perched against the door stayed in the car, as did Braden’s passport in the bag behind it.
After our last session, we took a mad dash straight to the airport, remembering what a local had told us in the lineup: “You guys got lucky, it’s going to get stormy. It’s rare to get good conditions between storm fronts like this. Last surf for everyone for a while.” Who knows if it’s true. But we counted our blessings and called ourselves fortunate to get a taste of these famed points.
But it wasn’t enough, even when you score it’s never enough.