San Carlos Board Test
Entry date: February, 2007


    On September 18th, I set out on an incredible adventure south into the depths of Baja Mexico: San Carlos. We were going down to do a board test for Windsport Magazine. None of us expected the conditions we received, and every one of us can’t wait to go back. What follows is as brief of a story that I can write about the nine day adventure in paradise.

Day 1:
    I left my parent’s house in Los Angeles around 8am on the 18th and drove to San Pedro, where I picked up Neilpryde/JP rep Kevin Kan. After repacking the Suburban we set out for San Diego. In San Diego we met up with the rest of the test crew, which included Pete Dekay, editor of Windsport, Derek Rijif, manager of Delta Windsurf Company, and Corey, a long time friend. Now, some fear the corruptness in Mexico, and I will dive further into this dilemma at a later point, but for now let’s just say my parents and I feared it enough that we took off our little American flag sticker so that our 2000 Suburban would ‘fit’ in better in Mexico. The point of this tangent is that when Kevin and I first saw the other part of our caravan, we realized the sticker removal was utterly pointless. We found ourselves looking straight at the Golden Gate bridge, Utah, and Cape Cod, all beautifully laid out on three sides of the C-Class, 26ft, Cruise America RV. After repacking and getting all the necessities, we crossed the border around 3pm and started our trek.
    The road from the border to Ensenada is a nicely paved 4-lane highway, so we were able to make good time. After Ensenada, however, Highway 1 narrows down drastically to a 2-lane road and heads into the hills. Rarely is their enough distance ahead to put dashed lines in the road so you can pass, yet no matter, cars constantly pass 18-wheelers whenever they choose, and even the 18-wheelers themselves do some passing from time to time! However, these hills can prove to be dangerous after dark, with many tales of Banditos cutting cars off and robbing the owner’s blind. With these tales in mind, we decided to pull of the Highway near San Telmo and head 6 miles west towards the coast to a surf hostel called Cuatro Casas. The owner of the hostel was way chill, and for $15, we got a clean bed, and unlimited shower usage.

Day 2:
    Kevin, Pete, and Corey had a quick morning session and then it was back on the road. The last town before the dirt road to San Carlos is called El Rosario. This town carries with it by far the most important factor of the trip, a Mercado. Now, this market is key, because in it contains the nectar of Mexico, cerveza cerveza cerveza! And to make it even better, a 38oz of Pacifco costs about $1.10, and if you return the bottles, they give you money back! So, after repacking the car to accommodate the added weight, we set off for the last 11 miles before the dirt road…
    This 38-mile dirt road is infamous for it’s reputation as an automobile cemetery. Marked only by a white sign, you hang a right off the highway and cross your fingers. Lucky for us, we only had one dilemma, only one. The dirt road runs through these arroyos, which are these stream beds that you drop into through narrow passages, often referred to as pinball alleys. Being in the smaller vehicle, Kevin and I dropped in first (and yes, the terminology is similar to surfing, except instead of being in the water with a 6’ board, we’re dropping in with a Suburban packed to the max). The drop wasn’t too bad, but as I was about to climb out the other side, I noticed the sand begin to get soft, very soft. So I start accelerating, since there is a hill coming up, and if I don’t pick up speed, this could be bad. But the sand is so soft that the car started to powerslide as we were aiming for this chute up the hill. We hit the hill with speed, but the sand is still soft. As I am narrowly powersliding, we see the crest and our stoked (we are laughing the whole way up because this is the most fun driving we’ve ever done!). However, right before the crest, a giant pot-hole shows itself, and our left side dives in. We bounce out, but somehow jar 3 of the 6 bolts holding half our carrying trailor! The Cruise America RV had some trouble as well, and it took us about an hour to re-attach the generator to the underside. After that there were no more problems and when we broke through the last valley, it was like a rebirth. We drove in from the North Side, and picked a spot out in front of Old Man’s. We set up camp, and tucked in for the night.

Day 3:
    I awoke to one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. It was 8am. The wind had already filled in, and the surf was up, way up. Here is a little breakdown of the San Carlos sailing area:
Imagine a beach-break, about ¼ mile long, with a big island on the north side, and a point on the south side. The big island is referred to as the Bombora. This island is permanantely covered with seagulls and constantly brings a smell of birdshit downwind, which is where you sail. Anyways, the point of the island protrudes the farthest into the Pacific, and the swell hits here first. It is a giant bowl that you hop on the shoulder and proceed to ride into the beachbreak, referred to as Old Man’s. We camped above Old Man’s. The wave at Old Man’s ends as it runs into the Point. The Point is where the fun begins. The point is a big right shoulder that peels forever basically. It only ends once you hit the real deal; the Chili Bowl. The Chili Bowl is what you always see when you look at images of San Carlos. It is a fast, A-frame bowl that sucks dry and is always menacing, no matter what the size.
    Since we had wind, and didn’t know how long it would last, we spent the first day running through all the boards. We had boards from Exocet, F2, Starboard, Mistral, Naish, Goya, Quatro, Fanatic, RRD, HiFly, and JP, just to name a few. I was the first one out on my 5.0 Legend. We launched at old man’s, which was actually very easy, after you make it down the cliff of course. During my first run out, I started to become convinced as to why people take the time to make the trip down here. The Side-off wind direction means that in one run, you can make it right up to the point, without having to really put much effort into it at all. This means that after every wave, you can head right back to the start in one reach, boosting your actual wave time tremendously. Also, the side-off wind means there is absolutely no chop, in fact, San Carlos has some of the smoothest water I have ever seen.
    For the duration of the day, I sailed mainly at The Bombora and Old Man’s. The break provided more of a real world testing setup, and the launch at Old Man’s provided easy access so that we could keep switching out boards. The testing aspect of the trip proved to be pretty simple. Basically, what would happen is one of us would take a board, go out and sail it. On the way out, we were looking for planing performance (how quick the board got planing), upwind performance, and all around control. Since some of the boards were freestyle-wave boards, we would also test that aspect as well. Personally, I am not technical enough in the freestyle realm, so towards that aspect, if I could make a Vulcan, I liked the board. However, on the wave I could really get a better feel of the board.
    Having spent the majority of my life surfing, and the last few years wavesailing, I feel I have a good idea of where to position myself on a wave, and what to expect out of a board when it is in the pocket of the wave, going down the line, or coming off the lip, etc. With so many boards to test, it actually made it easier to tell which excelled better in different situations. For expample, the F2 Guerilla was phenomenal off the lip, loose and slashy, yet at the same time very controllable. On the other hand, the Fanatic Freewave and Exocet U-surf provided incredible control through fast bottom turns, and the positive responses needed to provide confidence to go big on any part of the wave.
    My first day at San Carlos is what many referred to as the perfect day. I must say, in all of my time on the water, I couldn’t have agreed more. Huge waves, perfect 5.0, and practically deserted waters make San Carlos a true paradise for windsurfers. That night, Solo Sports owner Kevin Trejo invited us to his camp for dinner. He has a fulltime cooking staff that makes some of the best food I have ever had. His setup down there makes you actually forget that you are in the middle of nowhere. A dining room with TV and pool table, an outdoor lounge area, a fully stocked bar and living room, and an equipment room that resembles a retail shop hide the fact that you are 250 miles south of the border, and 38 miles out onto a point with no one around for miles. The ambiance is awesome, and if anyone is interested in going down to San Carlos, I highly recommend doing it through Solo Sports. We ended the night looking at billions of stars, and I passed out in the back of my suburban with a smile from ear to ear.

Day 4:
    Because we weren’t lucky enough the day before, we awoke once again to howling side-off winds. The waves were a little more inconsistent, but the size was still there. Since I spent a lot of time the day before testing all the boards, I decided that today I was going to spend more time on my own board, the Exocet U-Surf, and try and dial it in.
    Instead of mainly sailing Old Man’s, I headed down to where the real action is, the point and the famous Chili Bowl. These two breaks put so close together make it understandable as to why so many people travel to this far off destination. The point is one of the most perfect point breaks I have ever seen. Initially, the wave peels off the end of Old Man’s, and wraps around the point, creating a huge shoulder. As big as the wave gets, it never really closes out, so your fear potential isn’t as high. It provides the perfect setup for you to just drop in, bottom turn, make a nice carve off the lip, and do it all over again, about 5-6 times on the same wave. The chili bowl is a little more intimidating. The wind is almost perfectly offshore by the time you hit the chili bowl, which means as you bottom turn, the sail fully powers up, rocketing you back up towards the lip. This acceleration, coupled with the speed at which the chili bowl breaks, provides a playground like none other. The timing is crucial, because if you hit the lip late, you usually wind up getting smacked back down the face, and the washer effect of the chili bowl is not pleasant, and believe me, I know this from experience. Also, if you don’t cut-back on the lip fast enough, you just get blown off the back of the wave. And when the wave is overhead, and you launch off the back, the landing usually isn’t pretty. For these reasons I learned to love the chili bowl the best. It is challenging, intimidating, and will, no matter what the size, beat the living shit out of you if you aren’t constantly paying attention. It challenges all aspects of your sailing, confidence in your equipment and more importantly, in yourself. But when you hit it right, the chili bowl provides a reward uncomparable to any other aspect of windsurfing I have experienced. Also, once you make it past the main section itself, the wave becomes a never ending right, which you can practically ride to the fish camp, 1 mile down the beach.
    I sailed till I felt like my arms where going to fall off, convinced that if I came in the wind would never come back. After a ballena, or two, I hit my car bed so hard I felt like I was never going to wake up.

Day 5:
    Well, I guess I didn’t sail enough, because when we woke up today, it was overcast and ZERO wind. With zero wind, the flies can come out in full force, and they are relentless. Not only was there no wind, but I awoke at 7am, because that’s when the flies awoke. There is no way to get rid of them, and sleep is not an option. But our spirits were still high, we had had to great days, and definitely needed a day off. The surf was still up, and the Solo Sports crew had left, leaving the population of San Carlos to about 10 people, including the 5 of us.
    I got into my wetsuit, grabbed my 6’ shortboard, and headed to the point. For the rest of the day, on and off, we surfed 10 ft waves, with no one out, and I mean no one. In fact, it actually started to creep me out! The surf was incredible, seriously 1 minute + waves, it was definetly the best surf session I have ever had. You could catch waves as fast as you could make it back to the lineup and when a huge set came in, you and your buddies could pick which one which person was going to take, and it was all yours. The place spoiled me for life, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to surf Malibu again.
    The wind never came up, but we went to sleep hopeful that it would be back for day 6.

Day 6:
    Well, it wasn’t overcast, which I guess is a step in the right direction, but it sure wasn’t windy either. Another nice 7am wake up call by my roommates the flies got me out of bed and grumpy. The surf was still up but I was getting bitter that it had been a day, and also my arms wouldn’t really work. I wound up spending the better part of the day lounging around in our beanbag, reading and sipping on Pacifico’s, which really isn’t a bad way to live life. By around 3:30, I decided I should be a little productive, so Corey and I paddeled out, just the two of us, in 10 ft surf, once again at the point… how spoiled we were! We cooked dinner and I went to sleep praying this lack of wind would soon end.

Day 7:
    With two days left, someone upstairs felt sad for us, and blessed us with wind once again. It was more of a normal beach pattern, the wind switched and came up by 11, and we were on the water by 12:30, 1. It was back to testing, so I made sure to get back on the boards I knew, and re-confirm my original thoughts on each board. All the boards we had were terrific, which made the testing very enjoyable. Personally, my favorites were the Fanatic Freewave, Exocet U-surf, and the F2 guerilla. After a little testing, I got back on my Exocet and headed back down to the Chili Bowl where I sailed the rest of the day. Coming off the water stoked again, I knew we had just one more day, so I prayed for wind, and hit my car-bed early.

Day 8:
    Our last day the wind God’s gave us an awesome farewell. The surf was back up to around logo-high, and the wind was perfect 4.7. Typical of my sailing-style, I was on the water as fast as humanly possible. I’d explain to you the conditions, but I feel like by now you all have the idea implanted in your head, absolutely incredible. I sailed probably 6-7 hours that day, from around 12-dark, with only a couple breaks in between. This place is truly magical, no words can fully describe it, you just have to go and see it for yourself.

Day 9:
    We awoke before sunrise and broke down camp. Once everything was repacked it was time to head out and begin our journey back to the border. The dirt road was the only thing hindering us to what we hoped would be a relatively smooth ride back. We set out and things were happily running smoothly. We made it through the arroyo which killed us on the way in, and figured we could see the end in sight. However, as we came around one turn, I was forced to slam on the brakes. An 18-wheeler was blocking our path, and the driver was passed out in the front seat, probably there from last night. Upon our arrival, he immediately woke up, starting talking in Spanish at a ridiculous rate, and what I gathered in my scrappy understanding of Spanish was the Truck was dead, and someone would be there to jump it in 10 minutes. This didn’t pose as much of a problem as we imagined, and sure enough in 10 minutes, someone came by, jumped the truck and he moved on. So we started up the suburban and proceeded to head out. As I put my foot down on the accelerator, however, we did not go forward, but down. What we didn’t realize was as we came around the turn, we had sort of skidded to a stop on the side of a ledge about 5 feet tall, composed of pebbles. As we were facing uphill, we were pretty much doomed, the more we tried to get out, the more we started to slip down the ledge. The little truck that jumped the 18-wheeler tried to pull us out, but we wound up more pulling the truck in with us. At that point some little kid started rambling off Spanish very quickly, faster than my couple basic Spanish classes has allowed me to comprehend. But he was smiling, so I figured things were looking good. A few minutes later, a giant tractor came down and hooked up to us, and within about five second pulled us out of the ditch as if we only weighed 5 lbs! After that, we were back in business and back on the road.

    Besides for the military stops, which ran much smoother since we had bags of beef jerky and flaming hot cheetos, which we had no problem giving to the 15 year old military kid talking to me with an AK-47 in order to make things smoother, we made it to the border and were stateside by late afternoon. It was one of the most amazing windsurfing trips I have ever taken, and I can’t wait to go back next September.

-Casey