Northern California, USA

Rugged individuals typify the Del Norte surfer. The county is small and there are relatively few surf spots, so most of the surfers either know one another or have seen each other at one of the area’s few breaks. Surfing started at Crescent City’s Pebble Beach in 1959 after locals Jim Rooney and Mike Morgan encountered the book, How to Build a Surfboard. Today, surfers of every ability level with every sort of surfcraft go to South Beach, the focal point of Del Norte wave-riding. While many Del Norte spots are more longboard-friendly, only a few spots are surfed mainly by shortboarders, and these are the places where you cam look to encounter the most aggression in the water. Del Norte surfers are generally a friendly breed and learn to live with horrible conditions and weeks of rain. The place for all your wave-riding needs (including talk story) is the Rhyn Noll Surf Shop in Crescent City (Rhyn’s the son of Greg Noll, who moved to Del Norte 20 years ago). He puts on the Noll Longboard Classic over the first weekend of October, billing it as “a contest for the good, sorta good, and not so good.”

In 1953, alarmed by the population explosion in Southern California, pioneer surf photographer Doc Ball moved his family and dental practice to the tiny town of Garberville in southern Humboldt County. Why he chose this nondescript wayside along Highway 101 might be explained by the south-facing cove, a twisting 15-mile drive to the west. That year Doc and his friend John Kerwin brought surfing to Shelter Cove. Surf culture came to the north county in 1959, when two Hermosa Beach transplants (Howie Skihan and Chuck Ehlers) rode the first waves at Camel Rock and Moonstone Beach. Local boy Ed Cox was the first to ride a mysto spot called Stinky’s (inside the harbor) in the early ’60s. North Jetty was ridden in 1966 by Kim and Willie Robinson, and South Jetty about the same time by Jim Sylvia. The next big spate of pioneering came in 1972, when Bob Hallmark, Jr. and Steve Grant (Malibu) first rode Patricks Point, and Grant, Trevor Smith, Tom Leshe broke the ice out at the harbor entrance. Today, thanks to Arcata’s Humboldt State University, the Humboldt Bay region is the hub of the county’s surfing populace. “HSU is really the basis of the economy here,” says Massara, “and the surfing population too!” In fact, there are enough surfers to officially classify the place as “crowded.” The vast majority are transplants from Southern California or elsewhere. Even so, a dedicated Humboldt surfer is one who can withstand the elements, excels in large waves, and boasts a rugged individuality (and mentality). All types and levels of surfers live in North Humboldt, sometimes congregating at the heavier spots in clumps of 15-30 people jockeying for position in a take-off zone about the size of a postage stamp, rife with grumpy middle-aged men on 9’6” guns. Other spots are softer, with gobs of room for everybody, including the old lady kooking in the whitewater and the blind kayaker cartwheeling on the outside. South Humboldt (Shelter Cove) hosts a generally unfriendly and tight-knit local crew, most of whom grew up here and are wary of outsiders. This is also Marijuana Central: the land of dope-growing surfers with their new cars, big houses, and no visible means of income. (Best not ask these locals what they do for a living.) It is speculated that more high-potency, Grade-A marijuana is cultivated in Humboldt County than anywhere else in the United States, and the herb is undoubtedly the largest contributor to the area’s otherwise cash-strapped economy. (Notice how many folks book tickets to Fiji shortly after harvest.) A federal program dubbed Campaign Against Marijuana Planting (CAMP) has government helicopters roaring all over the countryside at tree level, searching for the illegal gardens and this has forced many outdoor growing operations inside. The result is an increasingly bitter war between the pot growers and the government, which many argue should focus on abolishing the area’s true scourge – methamphetamine manufacturing and abuse – rather then squander boodles of dollars on a relatively harmless, multi-use plant, whose main deleterious effect seems to be inducing a state of euphoria. Arcata’s Humboldt Surf Company is the most well-stocked, legitimate surf shop in the county. It’s a good idea to get your goods here if you plan on driving around (which you will). South Humboldt has two small shops that are not well-stocked, and they have spotty hours of operation. But for something completely different, check out Bill Hoopes’ Born Again Boards in Eureka. Hoopes is a Humboldt native with a small rustic woodshop specializing in reproductions of ’30s redwood boards and balsa-redwood combinations. He also makes balsa blanks and finished boards in modern or retro templates. By appointment only. Info at www.bornagainboards.com.

Surfing came late to Mendocino County. It wasn’t until the winter of 1969-70 that Central Cal explorers Paul Acklin, Mark Ricci, Rick Carroll, Randy & Ron Vetterly, and Terry Thompson slid into the first waves at Arena Cove. San Francisco hellman Mark Renneker surfed a nice big-wave reef off nearby Saunders Landing in 1983. Mendocinans are rural-minded surfers, who live in a beautiful surf setting unspoiled by crowds or rampant development. Many residents are transplants, evacuees from urban life in the Bay Area, and they try their best to protect their newfound paradise from outside intrusion. Many other surfers are Mendocino natives, well-schooled in the difficulty of maintaining a surfing lifestyle in a harsh environment, so when the surf gets good, they tend to act like they’d all just won the lottery. Crowds congeal in the spots near Fort Bragg and Point Arena, and the pecking order is usually apparent. All spots are easily accessible from Highway 1 and, since tourism is huge business here, locals are accustomed to unfamiliar faces at the beach. Highway 1 can be clogged with tourists in summer, then blessedly deserted in winter. Though the vibe is generally mellow, it’s best to lay low and soak up the surroundings – and hopefully get some good waves to yourself. Mendocino has no surf shops.

Inland urban sprawl filters dozens of surfers to the coast. Most surfers frequenting Salmon Creek Beach drive from cities like Santa Rosa and Sebastopol, much to the dismay of coastline natives. Thus, you get your mix of the clean-shaven, new-Toyota-truck types from the big city versus the hard-edged, rusty-pickup-driving Bodega fishermen types. The number of Sonoma surfers has increased dramatically in recent years with the advent of the Internet boom and influx of people into the Bay Area. Locals tend to be protective of their spots, which usually contain adverse rocks or sandbars riddled with currents adding to the fickleness of the shifty line-ups. Sonoma surfers are resourceful because the surf is rarely good. Bodega has a couple of surf shops. Nothing exists north of there, so if you need something, better get it in Bodega.

Marin County surfing was pioneered back in the early-to-mid 1950s by Stinson Beach lifeguards Bill Wilson and Jim Sylvia (the same guy who snagged the first peak at Humboldt’s South Jetty ten years later). These two intrepid lads were the first to ride expanses of Point Reyes Beach, the sheltered peaks of Bolinas Bay, and the fickle beachbreak at Stinson in pre-wetsuit days. Only slightly more rugged than the more southern badlands of San Francisco and San Mateo counties, Northern California’s infancy begins smack-dab in the middle of the Golden Gate Bridge, once you pass the green ‘Marin County Line’ sign headed north. As such, Marin’s coast endures a massive contingent of wealthy Bay Area vacationers, many of whom own vacation homes in the quaint coastal villages. Even so, West Marin is drastically distanced from its inland counterparts of Novato, Sausalito or San Rafael: instead of affluent yuppies, giant homes and strip malls, it’s huge fetches of green, rolling hills dotted with barns, cattle, sheep and horses, meandering gently down to the Pacific. Stinson Beach is a super-popular San Francisco-Marin weekend getaway zone overflowing with snooty homes behind gates, puffy poodles and Rolls Royces. You may have a little difficulty finding Bolinas in light of the local paranoid xenophobes: for 20 years, residents have removed every turnoff sign that Caltrans posted. The department finally relented, leaving it up to travelers to find this relatively alternative community on their own. Otherwise, the Marin vibe is rich but mellow. Most Marin surfers live in inland cities like Novato, San Rafael and Petaluma, but there are many scattered in the small mountain towns. A few locals actually live in Dillon Beach, Point Reyes Station, and Stinson Beach. Marin is regularly surfed and has been for decades, but there really isn’t much of a problem with localism. Most of the surfers here are organically-minded and unusually accepting of outsiders, especially when you consider that the place lies so near to huge population centers. There’s one small surf store in Stinson Beach and another in Bolinas, so you’re pretty well-covered if it’s only small things (like wax and leashes) you need. The big shops are inland (San Rafael, etc.)