Mailbu Downwinder 2012: Gaining a Sense of Place

Mention California Highway 1, better knows as Pacific Coast Highway, and a rush of images follows.  Millions have heard of it. It conjures fabulous ocean vistas, soaring cliffs, romance, surfing, sailing, sun-soaked (and sangria-soaked) beach parties, cool cars and much more.

Heading north from Topanga Beach, and proceeding all the way to Point Mugu, PCH borders the southern edge of the Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area, a preserve of some 240 square miles. As you head towards Point Mugu, the bulk of it is to your right, beyond the view of the hill you’re driving next to.  Here’s a park map (available at http://www.nps.gov/common/commonspot/customcf/apps/maps/showmap.cfm?alphacode=samo&parkname=Santa%20Monica%20Mountains):

Growing up, I never thought much about what might be off to my right. I was only interested in seeing the ocean and maybe finding a surf spot. But even from that very limited contact, I always had the sense this was a majestic place.

This year, I would become a little more connected. I signed up for my first Malibu Downwinder. It runs about seven miles from Point Mugu to Leo Carrillo State Park. 

The first thing I noticed about the race entry form was the race’s connection to Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area: checks are made payable to (and thus directly support) the SMMNRA. Race sponsors pay the cost of operating the race.

As I thought about signing up, I recalled that I had seen an online video of last year’s race. The video showed that the pre-race gathering was led by a member of the Chumash people. The Chumash people, it turns out, are rooted in this land. And significant artifacts as well as sacred lands lie within SMMNRA.

After I signed up, I had one problem to solve. Downwinders offer the chance to go for an entire paddle with the wind and ride bumps. The downside of downwinders is the logistics of a one-way race that ends someplace not near the starting line. Transportation is needed to “close the loop” between you and your car. Kathryn Tubbs kindly agreed to meet me at Cabrillo Beach and get me and a couple of others up to the starting line.

When I arrived at Cabrillo, something seemed to be missing: so far, the wind wasn't showing up for the party. No matter, it would likely pick up by race time. I took the opportunity to look for the best line into the beach – in other words, how to end the race gracefully. There was a nice swell on. So nice it that bringing a surfboard may have been the more appropriate choice. Getting to the beach on a paddleboard through waves can be tricky. You can get home fast, or, alternatively, you can get your butt kicked and your pricey paddleboard trashed.

The waves built through the day.

Other paddlers arrived. I only know a few of the SoCal contingent, this was a chance to get to know a few more. I was glad to see familiar faces from Santa Cruz:  Paul Ban, Mike Dilloughery, Tony Mueller and Craig Waltz.  I got to reconnect with Reno Caldwell, who paddled the Island-to-Island race with Kathryn and me in October 2011. Note: If you’re not smiling after hanging with Reno, check your pulse.  Tony Hotchkiss was there. I bought a marvelous paddleboard from Tony and always am glad to see him.  Joe Bark, Jack and Sam were there, too.

I had signed up for the men’s legends class. Once I laid eyes on Tony, I joked that the pressure was off. In addition to Tony, some of the fastest paddlers anywhere can be expected to show for this race, and on this day, show they did. But there’s that ever-present challenge, the only one that matters: what can I do today?

The race starts at Mugu State Beach, north of Mugu Rock – an iconic PCH landmark. After checking in, preparing the board, stretching, and chatting, it was time for pre-race instructions. After that, a member of the Chumash, traditionally dressed, conducted the opening ceremony. His message was simple and profound: Now that we all call this sacred place home, we must work together to care for the land and for the ocean. There was no undercurrent to this message, it was all about looking forward, and doing so together.

Leading chant, talking story, building community.

We headed out to line up for the race. I had to wait for an opportunity to paddle out without getting trashed by the beach bombs.  Kathryn was not only kind enough to haul a few of us up to Point Mugu, she also took charge of my camera.

Tiptoeing through the beach bombs.

Reno Caldwell: the Redondo Rocket ready to launch.

There we all were, ready to go. Only one thing missing: the wind. We had a flatwater paddle in front of us.

The horn sounds and the chase is on!

No matter. It was a gorgeous day and I was paddling pristine coastline I had never experienced. That made it special.

I had a fun race, and I even found one good bump in spite of the wind's absence.  At the approach to the finish, as I rounded the buoy, I caught a wave. But it was big enough that I knew I had to let go of it before it crested. I caught a much smaller one inside, turned my board over to a caddy, and ran up the beach. I was all smiles.

I'm the small object in front of the wave.

Post-race parking lot.

Fun way to signal the end of the race!

That night, Malibu moon scene.

Thanks to this event, I learned something about SMMNHA. I took the time to look on the internet for its website, and found that a jewel was under my nose all these years. I also experienced an affable and articulate member of the Chumash people. I am now more connected to this place I always knew was special. Perhaps next year, the winds will blow me back to this particular starting line.

Santa Cruz Downwind (aka Davenport Downwinder) 2012: Think Outside the Bay

Ghostryder Watermans Club is a nonprofit corporation that uses its events to raise funds for the Santa Cruz Junior Lifeguards program. This year, GRWC decided not to host the logistical nightmare that is the Monterey Bay Crossing, choosing instead to better energize the 14-mile Davenport Downwinder. With new sponsors on board, their efforts paid off.

For raw downwind, open-ocean confrontation along majestic, undeveloped, rugged California coastline, this race delivered.

 GRWC’s invitation made this clear: advanced paddlers only. Anyone who might have missed the point just needed to take one look at the course map:

The course. No food, no services, just gas.

Conditions didn’t need to be maxed out to get your full attention, start to finish. It’s obvious this run is to be taken seriously. One look from the beach tells you anything can happen out there, and fast. So it’s easy to understand why some of the best paddlers from all over California showed up, both prone and SUP.

Davenport Landing offers a large, crescent beach nestled between two point breaks.   (Click on photos to enlarge, then hit your browser's back button to return to this story.)

Mike Roberts told me the waves get big here and have played havoc with this race before. Today, we got lucky.

Paddlers arrived, checked in, and caught up on the latest with each other. Our energy level uniformly rose as race time neared.

Mike Roberts, readying his ride.

Thanks, Mike, for providing transport to Davenport!

A total stranger was kind enough to offer to take this. And also kind enough to give my camera back to me.

BARK-ing sands. Reno Caldwell is the one holding up his board and throwing shaka.

Jack Bark, Reno Caldwell, Steve Shlens, about to kill it.

Zach Wormhoudt described the course and safety, and we got ourselves ready to go.

Today, there wasn’t much surf, so the beach start was easy. The first challenge was to paddle crosswind in order to accomplish two things. First, staying too far inside meant getting hung up in kelp and fighting to stay away from shore. Second, the runners are better farther out.

The difficult part was that refraction off of the various points along the course caused some disorganized water. I got bucked off my board a few times. But that was a small price to pay for all those fun bumps I caught.

Mike Roberts and I did some good training runs in Monterey this year, and now we were both cashing in, having a blast. During our training runs we kept track of the fastest bump. We were over the moon when my Garmin said we hit 12 mph on our best run. But at the Davenport race, I dropped into one that was even faster:

The venue, the day, and the conditions were so enthralling I took the time to snap a few photos from the water. I figured I could just let it be a race for someone else (for once) and free myself to take in my surroundings a bit more. I’m really happy I did.

Bumps everywhere!

Josh Pederson caught me in the act of taking this photo.

On the approach to the Santa Cruz Municipal Pier, just outside Seal Rock, Josh Pederson and I caught up to each other and paddled in together to the finish. It was a great way to end one of the best races I have been in.

It was obvious at the awards party that every last paddler was amped from the run. The talking had so much energy that poor Zach could hardly be heard as he announced the awards.

Which speaks volumes about what the real reward was: if you did this race, you won. Period.