Cross Country Trippin'

Aloha surfers……I just returned from a cross country trip on the mainland and the jet lag is kicking my (you know what). So, it's like 3 am and I'm wide awake just anticipating the sunrise and the next plane ride. I'm hauling a bunch of "surf starved" HMSO club members over to Kauai for our annual "outer island" surf trip and want to meet deadline before I go.

OK….so, why trek across the mainland US you ask??? It's quite simple if you think about it. Other than the obvious reason that the US is just a great place to hang, those of us who rarely make the trek back to our roots need to, on occasion, dig down and remember from where we hail. So, I wing out to Los Angeles and get picked up by my friend, and HMSO SOCAL director for a quick visit with my SOCAL cult following. This involves a bunch of surf checks up and down the SOCAL coast followed by a big HMSO SOCAL meeting at a pizza joint in the San Diego/Pacific Beach area where I address the masses there. Yes, I am greeted with mucho warmth and questions about our island home galore. OK……you know I am representin' da islands so I talk it up bigtime but I tell no lies. You should see the bulging eyes on these SOCALs when I speak of our backyard…..places like Sunset Beach, Pipeline, Haleiwa, and of course the town spots these guys only see in magazines. Unreal respect from the SOCAL folks but then it's back to the hotel for a quick nap and an early awakening for the dreaded drive away from the ocean.

As I wake up in San Diego after crashing at the surfer's dream spot, better known as Motel 6, I head out for the desert…..alone. If you have never been to the desert, sentence yourself to a trip there and you'll understand where I'm going with this rant. I take the low road across to Yuma, Arizona and then cut across a back water road thru…..more desert….and up to Interstate 10 into Phoenix. I then head north to Flagstaff and I-40 across the barren wastelands of New Mexico only to stop in a place reminiscent of…..well, nothing. They call this spot Tucumcari…..why??? I have no idea but heck, there's nothing there outside of a few eating establishments, gas stations, CATTLE (what an awful smell), and one of my favorite spots……another Motel 6……yes, they left the light on for me!!!

I much needed shower and a good night's sleep find me up early again and heading out across north Texas……thru Amarillo. Yes, I hear the old song on the radio (Amarillo by morning) and I laugh hysterically while the fusion of reggae and Hawaiian music contradict and conflict with my current surroundings. I pull into "Billy Bob's" truck stop for the morning coffee and some gas only to get the harsh stares of many a trucker and cowboys (not to be confused with our beloved Hawaiian Paniolos) and I even take the blunt end of the "Son, we don't see many of your type 'round these here parts" statement. Not wanting to "overstay my welcome, I top off the fuel tank and get my coffee and donut to go…….and off I go again into the void we all know and love as Oklahoma…….all I can think of as I speed away from the truck stop is a bad scene from the old classic "Deliverance"…….yee haw partner but I will not lower myself to squealing or making any other cattle noise.
With these experiences behind me, I just drive until I cannot take it anymore. I end up in Ohio after trekking thru Missouri……I can't believe I have to spend 2 months there this summer…..Illinois, and Indiana. So, I spend time with family there in Ohio and then I go back to my true roots on the east coast. The Atlantic Ocean is still there, same as it was when I left it 19 years ago although I can see it has aged a bit. I reconcile my childhood differences with old "Mother Ocean" by spending some quality time in her cold embrace and assure her that, although I have found another "Mother Ocean" in the Pacific, I will always remember where I come from……that's important. Someone told me once to "always remember and never forget your roots" so once every half decade or so I'll make myself go back and pay my respects. Take a good look around, the good old USA is not such a bad place after all so go back to your roots……..it's good for the soul and you will be glad you did. Now, I have a plane to catch for my next meeting with the forces of nature.

If you would like to discuss surf related issues or to provide feedback on my articles, email me at MWFLECH@aol.com

Surf Doctor…….out.