9:53 AM, time for the post-morning session synopsis. The storm rolled through yesterday and in its wake there are wind swell waves to be had. Tendrils of the spinning tropical depression brought us an amazing lightning show to go along with some energy transferred into the form of "rideable" surf, and we were on it this morning. Before full sunlight crosses the mountains and drops immense heat upon the land, it is quite an "agradable" environment. The seventy something degree water is just ever so slightly chilling upon full body immersion. I dive onto my board at the tip of the point, ready to make the pilgrimage through the cobblestone maze. Aiming slightly to the left of where the pack of surfers huddle a quarter mile or so out to sea, I begin to paddle at an angle, using the current pulling away from the point to gain speed for duck dives. Once I pop up the other side of a wave after dunking underneath it with impeccable timing, I angle back to the left and try to gain momentum towards my ultimate destination. Repeating this formula, I end up in the deep water seventy five yards north of the impact zone, this is the section of ocean that is free from current, so you can go all out, digging into each paddle ferociously, warming up the deltoids with some extra mustard into the strokes.

Lined up perfectly in the pit, I watch a few guys go on perfect little five-foot peelers. My turn, the set wave is peaking, gathering, sucking its energy for a karmic meeting with the rocky point at the opening to the Rio Nexpa, ah, but there is one thing in the way! A two hundred pound drop-knee rider who gathers enough torque with some deep paddles and hard kicks to catch this momentum, to feel this energy lift me to my stance and send me racing down the line, alive, alive I tell you! With the playful nature of this wave I cockily stay extra high on the wave and wait for a sign that the lip ahead of me is going to toss -- I time it perfectly, aiming for the shore with the nose of my board, riding the lip in free fall for a second or two, just mimicking the whole oceanic process. Boom! Reconnection at the bottom, fins dig in, hard bottom turn and I fly back to the top of the wave using all of the speed given by gravity to fling my board the opposite direction.

All smiles on the re-paddle I decide to power paddle again, just testing the body, making sure all the engine parts are oiled and greased and ready to go. My foolproof strategy at Nexpa on the bigger days is to wait outside and slightly north of the main takeoff zone. What I have noticed is that the point picks up different swell directions and some of the biggest sides become "wide-swingers". These waves don't even break on the main impact zone where a pack of surfers jockey for a good position. These waves bypass that section of the point and continue to wall up, looking more and more impressive as the green walls slide across the surface of the sea. There I am. Sitting wide enough and far enough out that I can paddle frantically to the exact perfect position where the first buckets of the lip begin the inevitable crescendo. Magical. Bliss. Nexpa style.

ER Harris