The Beautiful, Seductive Seven Sisters
The crew was moving slow this morning after last night’s revelry. Today’s blissfully short drive was all off-road through white dunes and occasional patches of smooth multi-colored pebbles. Our goal is Tres Alejandros, a beautiful right point break guarding the entrance to a wineglass-shaped white sandy bay. There are 5 or 6 plywood shacks on the beach that offer some protection from the increasing spring winds. Ranchers rent the shacks to surfers for $5 a night.
The waves are small, one to two feet, but Mike Sullivan and I are into the water as soon as we stop the truck. The water is nearly as cold as in Santa Cruz and the place looks like Playa Cerritos many hundreds of miles to the South. The big difference is that except for a single rancher’s home, there is no one around. The place is blissfully abandoned. The water feels great. Each of us paddles out in the fading light and catches many small waves.
For dinner, the team breaks out the small gas grill Jeff Olson put together. The chicken legs we bought earlier at a small market are salted and peppered. Wyatt boils potatoes and slices chayote into cubes before sautéing it in olive oil. We’ve gathered wood for a fire, but it is too green and sends up clouds of acrid smoke. Coupled with the smoke billowing from our grill, the camp resembles an out-of-control tire fire.