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We beached the the panga and hiked up over the island through jungle. I hadn’t yet experienced a hike over the top of the island. On a trip prior we had circumnavigated the island walking over boulders and tricky shoreline. But now we were walking with a purpose to scope the surf on the other side. Heart pounding with anticipation we crossed over and down the other side picking our way over the fallen palm branches. As we reached the rocky shoreline we could clearly see rideable surf coming in and breaking in a consistent right.

It’s a rare thing these days, to visit a place that has yet to be discovered. My whole life I have ventured into the outdoors seeking experience, whether in the mountains, desert, or ocean. I cherish the solace of a sitting by a high mountain lake, hiking endlessly through redrock county of Southern Utah, or sitting on a surf board waiting for a set wave in an empty line up. I have realized over time that the most special places aren’t necessarily that convenient, they take work or some guts to get to. But rewarding because they provide me with a feeling of excitement, of discovery, of pioneering. Places that I can imagine are as they have been for thousands of years, natural, wonderful, wild. Burica is such a place.

I know I’m in the spot.  I turn and paddle, the wave lifting me up a deep blue mountain, it’s steep clean face falling now in front of me..I’m up, I’m dropping in and I’m looking up at the pitching crest and then down the line as I bottom turn.  I am truly free, board shorts wet and wrapped around my legs flapping with the speed of the ride, no shirt…happy.  For all this time I have been thinking about this moment.  How many waves have come through here unridden and undiscovered?  Am I the first?  Probably not….but it doesn’t matter, cause I certainly feel like I’m the first.  I feel like a pioneer, and that is all that matters.