Endless Session, Day 279: New Records
A few thousand miles over Mazatlan. Photo The sea of Central America beckoned again. Gusts of South Bay wind howling fiercely early in the morning had me looking even more forward to my plane ride south to the left reefbreak that had been ringing in my ears for months. Cardon Adventure Resort was about to turn from the surf spot of my dreams to reality. I dragged my heavy board bag (nearly bursting at the seams) down the smooth lax floor, and the grumpy Alaska Air agent that tried to tell me I’d be paying double the $75 per way charge for boards eventually softened and graciously let me by without having to front extra green (my look of bewilderment, almost shedding a tear, and her realizing that I was a poor surfer might’ve helped). FYI to everyone, now if you have more than 2 boards per bag, be prepared to be very broke. The two-and-a-half hour-flight zeroed me in over Mazatlan, where colorful fields, barreling beachbreak, and a river emptying out into the sea could be seen from far above. I felt like I was about to step into another world. Walking down the stairs to the tarmac and another hour down the road, driver Jovany opened a beautifully crafted wooden gate and took me the…
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