SURFER MAGAZINE FEATURE ARTICLE

Hans Hagen (above) spent most of his New Zealand trip burning fat instead of gasoline and working on pedal power instead of traffic-induced Nautilus clutch. His new routine seemed to pay off when he hit the water.

He was hooking into these massive trout that were almost too beautiful to eat, but they were so sweet and buttery-tasting, you couldn’t resist. Plus, we needed the lean protein to fuel our pedaling legs. Unfortunately, Aamion’s ride came to an abrupt end while he was hunting down an elusive, fat brown trout he’d been stalking. He slipped down a muddy six-foot embankment, tripped on a root, and snapped his foot, which was already weakened by a previous surfing accident, all the way back to his shin. He said his bone breaking sounded like a firecracker. Hans and I had to ship our fallen comrade home the next day, and we promised to keep in touch. I don’t think he was very happy about us raving about the flawless, six-foot tubes he’d been missing.

Chris Del Moro
By the time we reached Santa Barbara, Keith had invented a few fun games for us to play. By far my favorite was yelling out “Whiff!” at golfers who were just getting ready to strike the ball. We got our timing pretty down after a while, and, judging from the serious stare-downs from these old grandpas who were so seriously not stoked on us, I’d say we were pretty effective with our chorus.

Hans Hagen
Life’s daily routines have programmed me to get from Point A to Point B as quick and efficiently as possible. But surfing is the opposite of that mentality: The location or time of your next great ride is rarely predictable, and the act of surfing is never just a race to the end of the wave. The waveriding experience is nothing short of educated guesses, maximizing moments, and pure spontaneity. A pedal-powered surf trip breaks the patterns and puts you in a better rhythm with nature.

Christian Beamish
Threadbare and close to the earth: That’s the bike traveler’s ideal. It’s different, to be sure, but I’d say it’s the most pleasurable means of transport. And one more thing: There’s nothing greater than sailing along a country road, tires hissing on wet pavement from a clearing rain, stone walls and farmhouses scattered here and there, and a swell cracking off the reefs in the distance.