Death by a thousand turns.
And here we are near the very end of another year with all of its ups and downs wrapped in a nice bow. Did you have a favorite surf moment? Maybe champion Filipe Toledo’s brave performance at very scary Teahupo’o enjoying a front row seat while two 50-year-olds swapped kegs? What about Stephanie Gilmore climbing from basement to penthouse at Final’s Day?
But a worst moment?
Possibly the announcement that China’s Great Wall Motors had extended its relationship with the World Surf League in order to dump even more carbon spewing trucks and SUVs into landfills?
Or the re-inclusion of Kelly Slater’s Surf Ranch back onto the 2023 tour?
I’d have to say that really did it for me. Now, I have been to Surf Ranch a total of five times, taking in a Surf Ranch Pro along the way, and while the wave is undeniably fun to surf, it is an absolute bore to watch being competed upon. The sections present singular canvases for our heroes and heroines to make the same turn, stall, barrel. The length absolutely sleep inducing.
Surf fans revolted as one when WSL CEO Erik Logan, and gang, disclosed that Surf Ranch would be May’s official entry and while the cries of anguish may not have pierced the patented Wall of Positive Noise, signs are pointing to Slater, himself, being affected.
In a minutes ago Instagram Story, the eleven-time world champion declared, “Imagine thinking cows farting is worse than 6 billion lbs of pesticides sprayed a year.”
As you certainly know, one of the many critiques of his Surf Ranch is the ever-lingering scent of bovine toot. I don’t know which championship tour venue features 6 billion lbs of pesticides sprayed a year but would agree with Cocoa Beach’s first son on that count. The smell becomes innocuous after a short while. What I can’t second, though, is the monotonous dull of the Surf Ranch Pro.
I’d, personally, take both cow farts and pesticides over watching Gabriel Medina ride the plow for one more year and he is as good as they come.
Death by a thousand turns.
kelly directing fla harbor patrol to the killer algae bloom…”It’s over there!”
Can I drop a duece here? OK. A High Deep Dive Drive to Mexico (The Conclusion)
Mutiny…Squashed
Tensions ran high, primarily due to the extreme ride…as the majority of the highway was unpaved. We were hungry, starved for food and surf. Instead of us reporting Art’s erratic behavior to authorities when we got back, he bought us cases of beer, mescal, tequila. We finally arrived at our supposed destination, Cabo.
Did get some little right-handers at a place called “The Shits.” I would later wonder if we surfed “Zippers.” We ran into some other vacation surfers coming back from the mainland mex and ranted about their adventure. Group meeting and a new proposition: should we take the Topolobompo ferry to the mainland? With a tight budget, we agreed to scrimp on alcohol and head further south, into extreme heat and drive another 500+ miles to Mazatla’n. Meeting adjourned and one of the boyz says he will surprise me and one other with a ‘special treat.’ The ferry ride was something, I’ll never forget: pigs, chicken, goats, super-mexico characters of an astonishing range of skin features, colorful clothing, mostly traditional (think Marrakesh Express.)
Fast forward and we’re camped on the beach neat the giant Ford clock tower and within a long stone’s throw to the infamous surf sport seen in Bruce’s early b&w movies: Canon’s. Surfed it, but was nothing to write home about. Art, as I stated had done this trip before, and suggested taking a short boat-ride to the island south of the harbor: Isla de Piedras.
The three elders of the group, two seniors and me the sophomore pitched together coin and boarded the small skiff. “Here ya go…swallow this!” There was a short trail hike thru a tropical jungle, up and down, sideways, and up again…when we broke from the jungle? Well, after all these years…the image is etched. The most beautiful expanse of white sand…and of course perfect 3-4 foot peaking waves…everywhere! Our minds began to fry…and for the next four hours…slipping and sliding and gliding and flying…(I’ll leave it at that.)
Further up the beach was the headland and the harbor entrance…and guys were surfing there. We walked to it and watched some nerds from Torrance and god knows where were tripping over each other for a consistent right-hander. They got out; we went back in…for another two hours!
Frying, we were and exhausted. But not to exhausted to walk the length of the riff-raff rocks that defined the south harbor entrance…
LOW & BEHOLD and I’m watching my feet, cross-over, carefully…I’m on land now, I think…a DOOBIE, a perfectly rolled single zig-zag. We smoke it! We gorge on local specialties and get back to the beer…back to the home camp.
I get a case of Monty’s Revenge and am sick for days before we pull the plug and race back to the USA; having lost many pounds, many meals, sleepless nights and long hot days…I don’t remember the 1300+ miles ride. But this I do remember…
A couple of months later I rent a house on Cliff Drive, SB with a fellow Hermosa guy that also went to high school with…he’s a Puerto guy, a big wave charger…and we exchange our summer stories and he’s rollin a fatty…Brian had also been to Mazatla’n. He had surfed the harbor right. And he tells me he had LOST A DOOBIE. He hands me a match and the PERFECTLY ROLLED DOOBIE.
What’s next? Chemtrails of cow farts?
Would be, but does anyone actually think this? I think we can all agree factory farming etc and chemicals all over your food are both bad. Great post, Kelly.
In India cow farts are sacred.
You’ve been there 5 times ?
Crikey dick mate, how’s about ya leave the latch off the gate next time ya there, so some of the comments crew can sneak in and steal a wave while ya gallavanting around with the glitterati in the bar…
King Kelly actually thinks his shit don’t stink
Is this what happens when you don’t finish high school?
Kelly trying to outdo Elon in the fuckwit stakes.
kook confirmed
Maybe Slater can comment on what an old relic, energy wasting piece of shit his wave pool is.
future aquaculture zoning/
i just cant wait till wsl somehow spin “saving the planet by reducing pesticides 2023” as part of their mandate next year.
be awesome seeing the pros mixing “natural” pesticides and “fertilising” the local environment at every stop
I think its more likely Monsanto will sponsor an event.
Kelly’s Surf Ranch does in fact have piles of pesticides in the air, along with a scent of cow farts and cow shit. His wave pool sits in a bit of a hell scape. When NonJohn drives past there, the car goes on air-recirculate mode. The In & Out is a very good pit stop regardless.
i can smell in&out from here…
Imagine if surfing’s biggest ambassador wasn’t a retard.
Saving the planet one Insta post at a time.