For how far away Mexico seems, it’s a surprisingly quick trip from Los Angeles to Cabo San Lucas. An early morning arrival at LAX’s famed Tom Bradley terminal preps me perfectly for a pre-take off pass-out. My specialty. As I doze off in my window seat, my mind begins to conjure up all sorts of southwestern schemas… sombreros, señoritas, dusty deserts road and the picaresque peeling point breaks I’ve grown accustomed to seeing in my favorite surf mags. The visions are cliché (in a good way) and help me cope with the fact I am crammed in coach. Suddenly, my dance through dreamland is cut short. Your captain speaking. Seats returned to their upright positions. Landing gear engaged. Bienvenidos…

After a quick campaign through customs and currency exchange, I make a b-line for the beaches. My destination is a famed right-hander known as Zippers. My taxi driver is portly man with a pencil-thin mustache and a peculiar penchant for air fresheners. To my surprise, he has no idea where he’s going. Okay, so I’m not that surprised. But still, how hard could it be? After a straight shot on the highway set to the soundtrack of my babbling broken Spanish, I hop out at the entrance of the pearly gates of the LOS CABOS OF OPEN OF SURF. Within minutes of meandering, my crisp, new CASSIUS kicks are covered with a layer of desert dust. Awesome… That didn’t take long.

The contest site is tucked into a stretch of beach known as San Juan del Cabo. As a gather my belongs and make my way into the zone, my eyes become transfixed on the turquoise sea. Its shimmering surface and windless waves whisper my name. Time seems to stop as I stand in sand in a dead sweat, staring at the intoxicating beauty. Never has the ocean looked so inviting. I snap out of the daydream as my ears pick up the live event commentary blasting over the loud speaker. It’s Chris Cote for Day 2 of the ASP 6-Star battle where things are running full steam ahead.

After a few minutes of scanning the surf and scenery, I spot a familiar silhouette trekking up the beach and heading my way. The menacing midday sunshine forces my eyes into a full squint. Low and behold! It’s fellow Sanuk ambassador, Torrey Meister. As he ambles up the beach, it’s clear he and his electric blood-orange shred sled are fresh from a free-surf. He is in high spirits, per usual. We slap skin and exchange a series of signature salutations while quickly scurrying up to the shade of our bitchin’, beachside bungalow. Salvation; at last.

As the day unfolds, we catch up in the comforts of the little casita. Torrey shares how “da boys” lost their respective first round heats. I quickly realize there will be plenty of downtime during next few days and plenty of debauchery when the sun descends. Sounds about right… But first, let’s snap some photos… That’s why I’m here after all.

The sun finally cools of enough to squeeze in an evening session. I post up in the sand as Torrey and his amigos punt tail-high aerials up and down the point. They make it look too easy and surf until the sun turns the sky into cotton candy. It’s the perfect way to cap off my first day.

The following morning, I connect with another talented Sanuk tribesman, RYAN CALLINAN. Ryan has made the journey all the way from Australia to enter the main event. He is as happy-go-lucky as I remember him, yet firmly focused on locking down a solid showing in the event. So far, his campaign is right on track. While Ryan is normally known for innovative maneuvers and pushing the sports progression, his surfing here is more calculated and controlled. Regardless, the kid is one smooth operator. We sync up for a couple free surf shoots each morning and “arvo”. Needless to say, it is a treat to have him grace the opposite end of my lens – jersey or not.

As the week winds along, everything blurs together. It’s hot (and getting hotter), but the vibes are all-time. The crew surfs each morning, seeks shade during the day and washes it all down with a tower of Tecates and tequila to cap it off. Rip. Relax. Repeat. Thursday rolls around and the event organizers call a lay-day. For many, including Ryan, it is a welcomed chance to rest. After sitting around all morning, we decide to stretch our legs for a stroll. We wrangle a rental car and make moves into the middle of the city to mix things up. What a zone! Vendors beckon as the we slink on by. There’s nothing better than exploring a new city on foot. Everywhere we look something catches our eyes. Beer can memorabilia. Miniature instruments. Poncho print for days. Suddenly, we’re sucked in. We’ve become instant sultans of souvenir shopping…

The following day, the contest resumes with a building swell. Zippers shows its true colors once again and provides the perfect canvas for competitors lay into. Torrey keeps busy with a visit to the ASP broadcast booth for some classic commentary with Chris Cote, Ben Bourgeois and Saxon Boucher. Ryan bows out of the event in Round 5 despite a valiant effort. The final day sees a flurry of close heats, big maneuvers and a pair of deserving champions. High fives all around.

Before we know it, we’re scrambling to clean the casita and packing our bags. Torrey’s laptop sends us off in style with a playlist of country music’s finest ballads. We get some last laughs in and shuffle out into the sunshine of sentimentality. Another adventure awaits…

For more, follow @TORREYMEISTER, @RYANCALLINAN and @ADMWLKR on Instagram.