What are the advantages of being a surfer there?
The vast open spaces, the variegated coastline, the relatively low population, and the huge family cattle tracts that still take up long stretches of undeveloped coastline. It all combines to create the type of surfing area that one dreams about as a kid, the kind of coastline that often seems like five states rolled up into one.

To a large extent, it’s still pretty small-town America. The no-growthers have done an admirable job of protecting much of what we all love about the place, though I may not agree with them on every issue. As a surfer, you really get a sense of open space, and unless you’re living north of Point Arena, that sort of environment to exist in as a surfer is really getting harder and harder to find. Lots of opportunity and a small-town feel, for me, has always been the perfect combination, and I think most surfers here would agree that this is our primary advantage.

What are the disadvantages of being a surfer there?

It can be harsh. We have more wind I think than anywhere in the state, and despite being in Central California, the water is generally much colder than even places further to the north.
We have few ‘highline’ spots—I view that as a positive while some might consider it a negative. But there’s nothing as easy as like a Steamer Lane, where you can bike on down for an almost guaranteed go-out—we just don’t have that type of ‘easy’ environment. To anyone who spends any time here, they always remark how the shape of the surf can often be wanting, and it can all be a bit wearing at times.
Influencing the purely surfing side of the equation, there’s much less economic opportunity here than anywhere else south of San Francisco, and for someone wanting to make a real life here and perhaps raise a family, that is a serious issue. Couple that with some of the highest real estate prices in the state, and it makes for a real conundrum

Since you arrived in 1973, how has the surf culture changed?

It’s become much busier. Not to a detrimental level, and not as bad as other counties, but you can’t deny that things are a bit more crowded as the years have passed. Culturally, we’ve always been the odd bird out, and our surfing culture isn’t as strong as, say, San Diego, Santa Barbara, or Santa Cruz. In many ways, that’s helped to slow things down quite a bit.

San Luis Obispo was really a pretty agricultural and ‘roll-up-the-sidewalks-at-5 p.m.’ sort of place when I first got here, and I’ve seen a huge change in that town.
I do miss a bit of those innocent times. There was zero surfing culture, and it was a fringe activity practiced by a relatively small number of guys. Now it’s much more mainstream—more shops, more media, more mention, more presence. But this might be the ‘more’ generation, and it’s not limited just to surfing.
When I was 20 most everybody I knew was, in some fashion, trying to emulate a bit of the Wayne Lynch ethic. It was like that all over, but here, a guy could actually make a go of it, and there was some honesty in that path. Constant hiking, backcountry vistas and remote stretches, looking for that next big experience, that next rung up the ladder. It was all about the wilderness surfing experience, and it was taken to edgy extremes on many, many occasions.
These days? I don’t see so much of that, but I think that the whole culture has removed itself from that ‘want’ that once seemed so pervasive. What do kids today want? I’m not sure I know.

How has the Central Coast molded you as a surfer?

It was a huge awakening. I came to Cal Poly from Northern California in the early ‘70s, and in the Central Coast I found the SoCal weather with the rural feel of NorCal. Within a short amount of time, I could tell that it seemed like the type of place I wanted to spend my entire life.

To myself and the various groups I ran with through the decades, it was never about ‘the’ spots, but rather the ‘next’ spots—which new discovery was just up ahead, down a cliff, at the end of a seasonal river, out on some reef with the next sand shift? It was always a hopscotch from one to the next, and I was lucky to partner up with some of the most enthusiastic personalities of their day. Every day, up at dawn, it was always about the hunt, and the never-ending ability in this county to actually be able to do that.

God, those were some glorious times, but they’re still available, if that’s your bent. And I think that’s what sets us apart from the rest of the state. They are still out there.
The core of the Central Coast has always been about the art of exploration, and to a large extent, that is still available today. Sam George, a Central Coast pioneer of sorts, referred to this aspect of it as ‘free-range surfing’.
The real worth to me has always seemed to be the ability to really get out and stretch your legs, to look for something new, and in the process create a kind of timeless and ultra-valuable adventurism that’s fast disappearing in many other parts of the U.S.

Where do you see Central California’s surf culture headed?
It’s hard to see a bit more congestion not becoming more and more of a factor. It’s bound to happen, and is a natural progression, to some degree.
But in the largest sense, I see the Central Coast as remaining pretty timeless. The very on-again, off-again essence will always chase 80 percent of the visitors down the road, and I don’t see our actual surfing population making any huge increase. If anything, we’re probably headed to more of a retirement population, and that will help to balance things.
And the most valuable thing about our county: the boundless, undeveloped coastline? Due to land conservancies, state parks, large ranches still held as family trusts, and a few other benevolent factors, there’s always going to be a lot of open coastline that’s very difficult, if not increasingly impossible, to access. In those gaps, I see the most valuable part of the essence surviving, and that will always leave a few openings for the wilier among us.
It’s those stretches of coastline that will conspire to protect the most valuable part of the Central Coast surfing experience, and it will always be our proudest heritage, an heirloom, if you will, that I see passing successfully to the next generations, and I’m deeply thankful for that.
We’ve been so lucky to be able to enjoy for our entire surfing life what a lot of guys have had to give up after their youth. I’m 51 now, and it’s all still going on, but it’s become a much more personal part of me as I’ve aged. I look forward to many more years out there on it, as, thank God, there’s still some work left to be done.

What are some of your fondest memories of living and surfing there?
There are too many to even try to list. And while I have so many great memories of unbelievable ‘first discoveries,’ reefs surfed for the first time, Big Sur unfolding like the garden it is, on-fire Cayucos sandbars, the halcyon Pico summer swells, memorable, non-stop ‘seasons,’ new spots found hidden just out of sight, epic early boat trips, the big wave glory days at Leffingwell, our kayak exploratory decade…I’d have to say that the true value of surfing really comes down to some of the great friends I’ve made through it over the years.
Every group seemed to have its own epoch, its own self-perpetuating dynamism, and I’ve been lucky enough to share in a few of them, each life-changing and a pleasure to pass through. Sam and Matt George through the early years, Dave Parmenter through the middle ones, my longtime buddy Brad Hair, through all of it—the list could go on and on. It’s been an honor to serve with all of them, each in their own way bringing a lot to the collective experience.
We have a ton of eccentric and interesting individuals who seem to flower in this environment, and sometimes, it feels like I must know most of them. As we’re younger, we always focus on the waves, that all important medium for our act. But as we age, if we’re lucky, we come to realize that it’s always been about the people who are out there on the trail with you, that’s the true intrinsic worth, and I’ve had the pleasure to walk with some of the best.
It all goes back to that small-town feeling that’s always been so much a part of it. Small groups of friends, riding forth in trucks, boats, Hi Techs, up cliffs, down trails, through a thousand poison oak cases and ankle tick discoveries, pounding it out in the rain, sun, and fog. It’s all been one big hunting party, and the trail has never seemed anything but glorious to the highest level.
The Central Coast truly is the magical Middle Kingdom, and I knew the first minute I got here that this was going to be home. Thirty-three years later, it still is, and I’ve led a blessed life that I’ve been lucky enough to find a way to stay here and raise a family in the best place in California to be a surfer.