This morning we received a note on our front door reminding us that this town operates under a noise ordinance and that we may have been in violation during our first night here. And I may know why.

You see, we lucked into an AirBnb that’s equipped with a pool table in the sun room, and last night after some dinner we fired up a few games. And while I’m not going to specifically single anyone out for the noise ordinance, I will say that Mitch Coleborn is a passionate pool player. Very passionate.

So here we are: On the road, all thanks to YOU! An ongoing experiment in creative freedom for the sake of making something. At your service and doing what we do. And we’re doing it in a place where there are constant fluctuations in wind and swell and local vibe and mood and it turns out that moving 8 to 10 fully grown surf dudes around a town in a 15-seater van takes a lot of energy. And food. And time. And toilet paper. And music. And patience. And Taco Bell. And that’s just fine by me — that’s what makes these trips unique and fucking awesome: we’re a rolling pile of wet wetsuits and sand careening across the state set to a soundtrack accompanied by the clatter of rattling fins and boards. There are the endless wave checks. And re-checks. And coffee stops. And second guessing. And burrito stops. And piss breaks. And parking issues. And as Colin pointed out: the need for music to be playing in the car at all times. “Can you turn the music on,” he asked during a slow and silent morning start in the van today. “I’m way too in my own head when it’s silent.” So Mitch put Silverchair on.

This afternoon we all walked into a crowded Trader Joe’s after surfing fog wind straight-handers in Jaws infested water and filled two shopping baskets with the basics: Avocados, bananas, bread, coffee, frozen pizzas, hummus, chips, salsa, and various other Trader Joes hummus surprises before heading back into the wild to find waves. We found our groove today. And tonight, we did find some waves as well. And it evidently ignited the surf psych as everyone is in bed already dreaming of jumping sharks long before the noise ordinance even kicks in. We’re ready to surf. The coffee pot is on automatic mode for tomorrow and we’ll be up in the dark. Because we got a lot of ripping to do before we find our way into the front door of Vesuvio. —Travis