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The Johnny Appleseed Surf Tour…Part 1 If we think about da roots of being a surfer we realize that we all have links to the history of the sport started by the early Hawaiians......links that spread to California and Australia......from California to the Eastern U.S. and yes to Texas. From Hawaii throughout the Pacific Rim. From California to Mexico to Peru to Chile. But linked, none the less, because of a great way of life and the best individual sport ever. With that in mind, here's a little River Rat History from the summer of ' 66. At the end of ' 64 and throughout ' 65 California surf shops were starting to get orders from the East Coast, from fledgling surf shops and individuals reading Surfer Mag. Hobie had already begun establishing a string of surf shops that carried his boards from Florida to New Jersey. By ' 66 the other major surfboard manufacturers were eyeing the new market on the other side of the country, including Dave Sweet, whose shop I was running. Teams from G&S, Hansen, Con, Dewey and his boys, Dave Sweet and a couple of others scheduled to meet in New Jersey around the third week of June. The East Coast version of the U.S.S.A. was setting up a string of contests from New Hampshire to Florida. If memory serves I believe most of the others were all flying out. However, I had a ' 59 VW camper, fully equipped, so another Dave Sweet team mate and I decided to drive. Unfortunately, he got drafted the day before we were to leave (I'll never forget that totally bummed out face). So, with 6 boards strapped to the top of my van and my Aggressor model on the inside........a map of the US and a small pack of bennies.......I headed East on June 4, 1966. Nineteen years old, first solo cross country trip (and this was way before Easy Rider). Route 66, listening to the 8-track beats of Ray Charles, the Ventures, Herb Albert, the Tempts, taking little white pills........ I drove straight through until sleep deprivation and hallucinations forced me to rest in a truck stop in Oklahoma at 2:00 in the morning..........and here's where it gets weird. They say that we are all about seven people away from being connected with the rest of the planet.......well, I hadn't as yet heard about any surfing in Texas, but at around 3:30 I feel this rocking of my bus and these two slightly compromised Texans, who were apparently traveling from a rodeo somewhere, are raising me from my stupor. They live in Galveston they say and want to buy a surfboard. I thought they were just drunk (they were) and B.S.ing me (they weren't) until I saw them waving around cash. So they bought a 9' 10" Dave Sweet with Orange side panels and a triple stringer and laminated wood fin. Opened up their truck and tossed the board in with a bunch of saddles and other tack. Off they went. 4:00 in the morning! Surfing in Texas......who'd ever heard of such a thing? So, I'm claiming first ever surfboard sale in Oklahoma history ........anybody out there know otherwise? I just wonder how many lives that board touched in the early days of Texas surfing.......or if any of the AS Texas kahunas are surfing because of those two cowboys.......amazing! I promptly returned to my crashed state. Upon awakening at about 11:00 and still rather blown away by the nights events, I resumed my quest to the East, five boards left on the car. The trip was uneventful till I reached Indiana where my van met a railroad track that had never seen a carload of surfboards. To this day I'm not sure what happened, but the whole front end of my bus just kind of dropped about 1/2 inch, cracking a bit of windshield in the process. The window, the dash, everything just lowered itself in honor of that kickass RR track. Well, it proved a bit hard to find a VW mechanic in the middle of Indiana nowhere and when I did he was going on about a Rausenhauser flange or muffler bearing or something and that the part would be there for sure in a week or two. So I asked the van how it felt and it said "let's get out of here." This new front end alignment, so to speak, merely added to the wondrous uncertainty of the whole adventure. Nothing else happened until I reached New Jersey, with the possible exception of a multitude of strained necks on all the people that had to whip their heads around to make sure they were seeing right. Almost as if they'd never seen a van full of boards on a Pennsylvania Turnpike. And what's up with stopping every once in a while to pay for your driving privileges? My good buddy and Dave Sweet team mate, Bob Horne, a smooth as silk goofyfooter had taken the responsibility/marriage trail and was working as a navigator for United Airlines and was based out of Newark. He and his wife had a sweet little cabin on Lake Mohawk, New Jersey and that was my first official stop. For you Califs, Lake Mohawk reminded me of Lake Arrowhead. It's the second week of June and the tourists are starting to flock to the lake. Bob had the use of a small inboard with about a 35 horse engine. We're Jonesin' for surf so we decide to try a little tow assisted lake surfing. And to our total amazement it was a blast.........you could crank front side and back side turns and the nose rides were for ever. we would stand on the tip for three or four minutes and then sit down and lay back in the trough, totally dry and out of sight. Totally fun!!! After about 15 minutes we looked toward the beach and everywhere you looked there were people, lining the shore watching, pointing, clapping. It was unbelievable ..............so for 2 1/2 days we put on three shows a day. Two California surfers, completely out of their element with a common water bond. That's the last time I saw my buddy...........I hope his life has been happy. Next stop ...........a real ocean. I reached Monmouth Beach, New Jersey and drove into the parking lot of the local surf shop that had also been doing business with us for a couple of years and was located right across the street from this small right hand jetty break. There were about 15 guys out and it was probably breaking 4' tops. I could see a bit of scrambling going on in the shop as someone spotted the California plates on the strange van. I'd never met these people other than a few phone conversations so I thought I would just go out in the water. As I pulled my trademark yellow Aggressor out of the van and walked down to the beach the crowd behind me was getting a bit bigger, but still no one approached. I checked out the breaks and the guys out........all in different stages of kookdom, having a great time. So I paddle out, wait, spot my first wave. As is my norm, I paddled fairly hard left to enter the wave and then with a single motion I was up and snapping a hard right whip type turn........up to the nose for five, quick back peddle, cutback left followed by another hard right and to the nose to stay............when I reached the shore break I kick my board out about six feet out of the water. I then got my board, paddled back out to the peak, and looked around. EVERYONE had gotten out of the water or were getting out of the water. There had to be 50-60 people on the beach just waiting to see what I was going to do next. I surfed for an hour before it got ridiculously embarrassing ...............every nose ride, turn, fade, kickout was greeted with applause and hoots. Remember I'm all of 19……. this was pretty heady stuff. When I finally went in the crowd was all over me.......... who, what, where, how? I talked story to waves of listeners for several hours. I'm sure that I was the first accomplished waterman that most of these guys had ever seen. And to top the afternoon off this cute little local lass wanted to have a more private conversation within the confines of the happy bus. The last thing the guys closing the shop saw was my van's shocks a rockin'. I say this now to the estrogen based readers, it was a sexy summer, but I'll try to keep the testosterone in the story at a manageable level so as not to offend. I must say it was a great first day on the NJ shore and I am positive it helped create some later ego issues........but of course I came out okay. Below are a couple of pics of what may be the first tow-in lake surfing.
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