Those roads less traveled are closer than you think. Peter Garraway, long hauling.
Speed and convenience have drastically changed the nature of surf travel. We’re all familiar with how advanced forecasts allow for quick strikes timed to perfection. Pre-packaged tours remove all the guesswork and risks. Hermetically sealed environments and modern-day gadgets allow us to bring our living rooms wherever we go. Even access to the world’s most remote locations is getting easier and easier, while adventure—true adventure—is harder and harder to find…or is it?
Over the past few months, a handful of surfers have walked through the doors here looking haggard and dirty, with that familiar look on their faces that says they’ve just endured something special. And each of them did, simply by jumping off the tourist bus and onto their bikes for a fresh round of travel fun. Some, like Chris Del Moro and crew, turned an average trip down the coast into the trip of a lifetime.
Others, like our own Curious Gabe Sullivan, slowly worked their way through New Zealand, hoping all the while to be sidetracked. After being on the receiving end of their many tales, we figured this was a trend worthy of some attention. So we asked Mr. Sullivan to gather some experienced pedal-adventurers and compile a case as to why you and yours might want to redefine your next little adventure. The following is what he delivered.
Chris Del Moro - Don’t ever invite Keith Malloy on a bike trip. I knew Keith was in good shape, but I didn’t know he was fricken’ Superman. He’s pretty much ready for the Tour de France. The first day of our bike trip down the California coast, he nearly killed us, and maybe that was his plan—I’m not sure. But by the end of the day we all had to pop five aspirin and lay flat-out dead on our backs, while he was walking around like nothing happened. Something tells me he was the only one who really knew what we were in for, and our little trip wasn’t even his idea. He definitely needed to be wearing the yellow jersey. Every stop we made, he was sitting there waiting for us to catch up. He might as well have been reading a book or eating lunch, because there were times he had to wait for a while, but that’s one of the things that riding a bike makes you do. You slow down and stop all the time. And that’s why you start absorbing things.
From the very beginning, that was the primary motivation: to soak some things in that we hadn’t let in for a while.
Hans Hagen - It’s funny, because I hadn’t given it much thought to this before our trip to New Zealand, but surfing and cycling are a pretty good union. Even just riding your bike down to the beach is something that helps put you in a physical and mental rhythm. You’re being tuned without even knowing it—not just by the physical pace and flow, but by the scenery as well. It was a familiar feeling I used to always have when I was a grom riding to the beach. And yeah, there are times where you definitely suffer, but even those moments force you to learn patience and be present minded, both of which are hallmarks of good surf travel. It’s only after you’ve put yourself in that frame of mind that you can see things clearly, and let things in. Once you’re there, you’re catching every note, and the stuff in between.
Christian Beamish - The first time I embarked on a bike-surf journey, I thought I’d just pop down to Big Sur from Santa Cruz for a few days. I was on a Schwinn beach cruiser with a side rack, metal basket, and a milk crate attached to a rack with hose clamps. My equipment included a delammed 6'2" JC, a fullsuit, a Mexican blanket, and a copy of Siddhartha. At one point in the book, Siddhartha says to himself, “I can think, I can fast, and I can wait.” Those were fitting words, as I’d eaten my last peanut-butter sandwich and was facing a lonely night at Sand Dollar. With nothing but my wool blanket and wetsuit for a pillow, I was pretty darn happy when this woman walked up and asked if she could sit by the fire. Turned out she wanted to camp, but was afraid of sleeping out alone, so I offered her company and she fed me dinner. Perfect symbiosis.
This may have had nothing to do with traveling by bike, but there was something about being out in the open, with not a lot of anything, that set up that interaction. There’s this unseen hand in fortunate happenings that I’m convinced is the Holy Spirit working. The first 120 miles from Santa Cruz went so beautifully that I thought I’d continue all the way to my hometown of Newport Beach. My pedal broke in Cayucos, and the man in the bike-shop barn hooked me up with a spare; I didn’t get one flat the rest of the way. It was nine days all told.
Dan Malloy - After a couple months of being home, I just wanted to go on a surf trip, and that’s when Chris Del Moro rang me up to see if I wanted to pack up some boards and ride down the coast. I was sold right away, because there is nothing better for you mentally and physically than a fun surf trip with some good friends. And the bike thing sounded pretty cool, especially since there’s nothing worse for the environment than cars and airplanes. Of course, once you jump on a bike you start getting all philosophical about different things, like how cool it would have been to be living 100 years ago, in simpler times, or how all the stars are suddenly making sense, and you feel really connected to the whole universe, but the best thing about it was the simplest thing: While it was light, we were riding our bikes, surfing, or eating; while it was dark, we were riding our bikes, building camp, or sleeping.
Josh Kimball - Our 300-mile bike tour was the most physically challenging trip I’d ever been on. There’s a constant supply of big-rig danger on Highway 101; then you have flat tires and broken chains, the grueling hillside climbs with dozens of pounds of gear, and the sheer exhaustion from riding 40 miles and then going surfing—every day for two weeks. All those elements could have prevented a crew of strangers from meshing. But those episodes actually pulled us together. Each obstacle was met with a group effort to overcome it. So the challenge itself, and the fun we had at every surf spot we pedaled past, gave each of us one of the best trips of our lives—and some new friends for down the road.
Dan Malloy - I loved just the immediate thinking ahead. Simple things like, “When are we going to stop and eat?” and “If we hustle up and get to Pumpkin Point, the tide should be dead low and just starting to push, so let’s hurry the hell up.” Rather than worrying about where I’m going in life, that’s the kind of thinking ahead that suits me. And the lack of stress and worry, coupled with being physically exhausted, helps you to sleep like a baby.
Little corner pockets like this hardly get a look at 60 mph, but slow it down to 6 and a whole new world of possibilities opens up.
Gabe Sullivan - As amped as we were to surf, we also decided to let ourselves get sidetracked occasionally by the surroundings in New Zealand. Aamion Goodwin was really stoked because he’s a fly-fishing fanatic, and we spent two days toward the beginning of our trip fishing the Tongariro River (which, as it turns out, is the Pipeline of fly fishing).
He was hooking into these massive trout that were almost too beautiful to eat, but they were so sweet and buttery-tasting, you couldn’t resist. Plus, we needed the lean protein to fuel our pedaling legs. Unfortunately, Aamion’s ride came to an abrupt end while he was hunting down an elusive, fat brown trout he’d been stalking. He slipped down a muddy six-foot embankment, tripped on a root, and snapped his foot, which was already weakened by a previous surfing accident, all the way back to his shin. He said his bone breaking sounded like a firecracker. Hans and I had to ship our fallen comrade home the next day, and we promised to keep in touch. I don’t think he was very happy about us raving about the flawless, six-foot tubes he’d been missing.
Chris Del Moro - By the time we reached Santa Barbara, Keith had invented a few fun games for us to play. By far my favorite was yelling out “Whiff!” at golfers who were just getting ready to strike the ball. We got our timing pretty down after a while, and, judging from the serious stare-downs from these old grandpas who were so seriously not stoked on us, I’d say we were pretty effective with our chorus.
Hans Hagen - Life’s daily routines have programmed me to get from Point A to Point B as quick and efficiently as possible. But surfing is the opposite of that mentality: The location or time of your next great ride is rarely predictable, and the act of surfing is never just a race to the end of the wave. The waveriding experience is nothing short of educated guesses, maximizing moments, and pure spontaneity. A pedal-powered surf trip breaks the patterns and puts you in a better rhythm with nature.
Christian Beamish - Threadbare and close to the earth: That’s the bike traveler’s ideal. It’s different, to be sure, but I’d say it’s the most pleasurable means of transport. And one more thing: There’s nothing greater than sailing along a country road, tires hissing on wet pavement from a clearing rain, stone walls and farmhouses scattered here and there, and a swell cracking off the reefs in the distance.
(Above) Dan Malloy passed through his own backyard midway through his trip, and, thanks to a new way of viewing things, it already looked different.
Chris Del Moro - You hear it all the time, but I never really understood how much riding your bike to work, to surf, or down to your local store can help you and your environment. The small choices we make can make immediate positive changes, not just with the whole cutting down of pollution, but with your wallet too. Eight tanks of gas = New bike. Two tanks of gas = Fixing up your bike. One tank of gas = Vintage thrift store bike. Fitness = free.
Dan Malloy - The next morning, you wake up feeling fit and alive and ready to take on the day. You may be a bit sore, but a little bit of physical pain doesn’t stand a chance next to the possibility of having some fun. So off you go. Pedal, pedal, pedal…those first few hours hurt, and your ass could use a break, but soon enough you are back to the basics. What is the tide doing? What does the wind feel like? And so on. And, before you know it, you kind of feel like a kid again, like those first few summers down at the beach with my friends.
Chris Del Moro - Dan’s bike was broken during our whole stretch through Malibu, and he didn’t know it. It was a 60-mile day, and he just couldn’t keep up with us no matter how hard he tried. By the end of the day he was almost dead, and the rest of us were super casual. Finally he just freaked, going, “I can’t do it anymore!” He was having a breakdown. Finally, I got on his bike and realized how screwed up it was, and it was really screwed. You could not ride this thing. His competitive streak pushed him 60 miles on a broken bike he had no business riding. Everyone felt pretty bad, but it was pretty classic all the same. Then we put Keith on the broken bike and he still led for the rest of the day. Like I was saying, he’s a freak.
Sullivan and Hagen heat up some rocks to sooth the muscles before bedtime.
The End.
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