Out Here in Mexico, Chapter 6: Back to The Place of the Masters of the Fish. by risa
and Out Here in Mexico, Chapter 7: Surf Jail.
(Merry Christmas)
by LK
As the bus entered this region, I noticed a wild growth of beautiful flowering bushes everywhere giving the air a sweet and fresh smell. The legend of Manitos was in the back of my mind.
We wound upward through gnarly coastal mountains looking thousands of feet down on yes, more azure sea. Reminiscent of California´s Big Sur. White waves were breaking everywhere down there. The swell exposure of the coastline there is excellent and whatever is out in the water piles in hard. It seemed as if there were thousands of rideable waves down there, and there probably were. I started freaking out and hung my head clear out the window for the rest of the trip. I wanted to howl but refrained from being that gringo.
We reached a peak and rounded a point where I could see an amazing palm covered point, way down, created by a rivermouth with waves peeling cleanly on either side. The stuff surfers dream of. I hopped off the bus and hitched a ride in the back of a pickup with one of the locals to a spot where I could hoof it the last click with my board. The little river was crystal clear with a tiny settlement around it.
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