Spring 2017 Collection | Mexico Field Trip

Vissla Spring 2017 Collection
Mexico Field Trip

Watch Episode 001 | Sundaland, above.

Dirty, gritty Mexico, who would want to go?
Where drug cartels roam free and palm trees stand high, dripping with sweat like humidity and mosquitos. We decided, with Donald Trump potentially in office this might be our last chance to confront Mexico face to face and all that stands behind the six letter name.

Upon departure, we made sure there would be waves, because whats a surf trip without surf.. and packed our bags accordingly. Surfboards mainly consisting of short boards and a step up or two, a guitar, cameras, paint, but most importantly sunscreen, lots and lots of sunscreen, and flip flops!

The crew did a big air from Lax down to Southern Mexico, getting in at sunset, the runway glistened gold. Once the corridors cracked open, the inside of the plane was filled with a heavy humidity, wet, jungle, bug filled air. Much like the movie Jumanji. Instantly making us want to exchange our pants for board shorts as quickly as physically possible. From airport to town, we were completely immersed into the culture. Taco stands galore, hand painted coca cola signs in every direction, car horns beeping and little balloon cart vendors whizzed by, leaving a trail of smoke from there weed wacker cart turned business. “We are here, hope the waves are good tomorrow”, Cam riffled off.

There were waves, moody waves. Easy to get a good one from the beach, but hard to make sense of it from the water.. The first part of the trip the waves would ebb and flow, much like the array of different salsas, some mild and mellow, some spicy and death defying with the chasing thought of what would come after digestion… The boys managed to nab a few toobs, and loft some massive aerial’s at the nearest beach break. They danced on the black sand beaches as though it was a fiery pit of coals, jumping and running like they hadn’t done since high school track.

Every morning like clock work the guys would stop at the local convenience store and stock up on everything for the long beach day. One coffee, one coconut water, a juice, one large water, one donut, and off they went. With the same main beach breaks mood indecisiveness, the crew decided to travel even further down the majestic country. Jumping in the truck and over mucho speed bumps they drove south, directly through the heart of Michoacan. Not sure If you are familiar with this area, but Michoacan plays host to thousands of North American Monarch butterflies every winter, as well as some of the worlds gnarliest drug cartels and Meth Labs with death tolls making an episode of Breaking Bad look like sesame street. Frightened to death the boys minds drifted off to getting kidnapped at gun point and having to escape through the thick coconut palm jungle, and suddenly they arrived to a shimmering blueish green, head high, glassy right hander.

Eric told the boys this was the holy place where his parents had conceived him just 28 years prior, Brendon and Cam laughed as they waxed their boards. The regular footers jammed and glided on the rights and Cam opted for the left ramp into the river mouth. The three surfed as long as their arms would allow them to paddle. Sunburnt and salty, the streets suddenly sparked the air had a certain satisfying vibe to it, and the after surf beers masked the thought of the returning military check point and what lay deep in the jungle. The paid more attention to gorgeous mountain peaks and colorful exotic birds that glided from tree to tree. The sand was golden yellow and beach was decorated with driftwood. They were somewhere between Michoacan and Manzanillo when the stoke set in!

With the thought of a possible wall being built in the near future the boys wondered if this may be their last taste of authentic Mexico.

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