MAVERICKS: THE BIG WAVE

MAVERICKS: THE BIG WAVE - A COLD-BLOODED MONSTER There, off Half Moon Bay, some nineteen miles south of San Francisco, a half-mile offshore from Pillar Point Harbor, what is perhaps the most dreaded wave anywhere on the planet can be seen breaking. This anomaly of nature feeds both the dreams and the nightmares of every top surfer. 

To get an accurate idea of what this place is like, you need to forget all those colorful surf culture clichés, such as palm trees, flower-patterned shirts, white sand, and bikinis. The local beach boys brave the cold water wearing thick black hooded wetsuits. Besides, they don’t have time to strut about on the beach because they have to paddle for three-quarters of an hour, avoiding rocks and strong currents, to reach the lineup. It’s certainly not the beauty of the scenery that warms their hearts—far from it. 

This place has nothing in common with the sumptuous turquoise undercroft of Tahiti’s Teahupoo or the lightness and delicacy of the waves at Bali or Hawaii. Here, the best they can hope for is a mass of murky water launched at full speed, a dark wall climbing without warning to a height of sixty feet, exploding with such power that it can be recorded on the Richter scale. This monster would probably have remained unknown had a young and intrepid local boy not tamed it in the 1970s. A high school student from Princeton-by-the-Sea, Jeff Clark, had developed a passion for the great beast that roared nearby when the winter storms generated enough of a swell to rouse it. 

In 1975, he risked it for the first time, and then a second. Over a period of fifteen years—always alone—he learned the secrets of this atypical wave ignored by the big-wave surfing community, who only had eyes for Hawaii. And then one day Jeff revealed his secret garden to a group of friends, who couldn’t believe their eyes. Photos of Mavericks went all around the world, and the elite of the discipline rushed to Princeton-by-the-Sea. Then disaster struck. In December 1994, Mark Foo, the master of big wave riding from Hawaii, drowned here, knocked out by blows from the wave soon after arriving. 

Mavericks became the cursed wave that would take more lives and cause many more injuries. But it is impossible to avoid: All self-respecting big-wave surfers simply have to pit themselves against it. And so, despite being gripped by fear, they submit to this ultimate surfing challenge that, deep down, nobody wants to take. Giving yourself up to the cold water, getting your bearings as best you can relative to the coast in order to avoid the impact zone, trying not to think about the reefs that just want to break your bones or, even worse, snag the leash of any surfer unlucky enough to be caught in the crusher, thereby condemning him to drown. 

For those unmoved by the prospect of being crushed to death between icy water and jagged rocks, there is more danger to be had. Great white sharks of the North Pacific have a particular predilection for the shallows off Pillar Point.

Pan-American Highway

The world’s longest highway runs from Alaska to Patagonia for almost 28,800 miles (48,000 km). Millions of travel sections of the route, and very few do the whole trip. Daytime TEMPERATURES Arctic lows of -22°F (-30°C) to tropical highs of over 104°F (40°C). 

The Pan-American Highway is so vast that the only way it can be taken in is by a reliable vehicle over a period of several months (some say years). Given the vast expanse of the highway, you’re almost guaranteed to encounter climatic extremes – and everything in between – no matter when you go. However, leaving Alaska anytime between Nov and Mar is never a good idea.

Trying to describe the world’s longest highway is like trying to describe the entire Western American Hemisphere, as that’s exactly what the Pan-American Highway is – a link that travels from the Arctic to the Antarctic. Apart from the notorious Darien Gap, a tantalizing 90-mile (150-km) strip in Panama, you can travel from Alaska’s Prudhoe Bay to the southernmost town in Tierra del Fuego and never leave this mega highway. Literally, almost every ecosystem and habitat on earth is encountered along the way, making this truly the world’s “ultimate road trip.” It is estimated that fewer than 500 people have ever completed the entire grueling journey.

SAN JUAN SKYWAY DRIVE, COLORADO, USA

SAN JUAN SKYWAY DRIVE, COLORADO, USA is a million-dollar drive. A drive through Colorado’s southwestern San Juan Range is spectacular at any time of year. Follow this 235-mile (380-km) route and you’ll pass gushing streams and waterfalls in spring, blankets of wildflowers in summer, and precipitous slopes thick with snow in winter. But the landscape is at its most spectacular in fall when the cottonwood and aspen trees take on a palette of fiery hues. The towns along the road were established after the discovery of precious metals in the area, and remnants of the precarious railway that ran to and from the mines are still visible.

Raft the Grand Canyon

WHY NOW Travel outside peak season to stand more chance of securing a trip WHERE Colorado River, Arizona DATES Mid-September If standing on South Rim peering down at the Colorado River has you twitching for a more intimate canyon experience, join the 22,000-plus people who raft it in inflatable boats each year. 

A run-down Colorado is an epic adventure. ‘Normal’ rapids are rated I to V, but the 160-plus rapids on Colorado are rated one to 10, with many V or higher. There’s a lottery system for permits for independent rafting. Commercial trips also fill up well in advance and take three forms: oar, paddle or motorized; paddle trips are the most adventurous. Note, motorboats can’t run after 15 September, so the river gets quieter from then. That would be great fun and a lifetime experience to raft at Grand Canyon. We're sure you would love it. 

Times Beach, Missouri

The small town of Times Beach, Missouri was once a thriving community with a population of over 2000 residents. But in 1982, the town became infamous when it was discovered that the soil and water had been contaminated with dioxin - a toxic substance that can cause serious health problems.

Due to the contamination, Times Beach was eventually abandoned and is now virtually uninhabitable. The buildings still stand, but they are slowly crumbling due to neglect. The town has a ghostly feel to it as if its residents just disappeared one day.

It's a tragic story and a cautionary tale about the dangers of chemical waste. Times Beach is a reminder of what can happen when greed takes precedence over safety. It's a place worth visiting if you ever get a chance, but don't stay too long. Times Beach is not safe for human habitation anymore.

The town has a ghostly feel to it as if its residents just disappeared one day. It's a tragic story and a cautionary tale about the dangers of chemical waste. Times Beach is a reminder of what can happen when greed takes precedence over safety. It's worth visiting if you ever get a chance, but don't stay too long - Times Beach is not safe for human habitation anymore.

Kiteboard on Maui

WHY NOW The wind is at its best – with August being Kite Beach’s blowiest month WHERE Kanaha, Maui, Hawaii DATES June to September Kanaha Beach, on Maui’s north shore, is a tranquil stretch of coast with wonderful views of the West Maui Mountains. But kiteboarding has become so popular here that they’ve renamed the place ‘Kite Beach’. There are even areas set aside solely for kiteboarders.

It’s an appropriate name change: Kanaha is considered to be the birthplace of modern kitesurfing, dating from the mid-1990s when water-pioneers Laird Hamilton and Manu Bertin started riding surf-style boards with foot straps on Maui’s north shore.

It’s impressive to watch, and hard to master. Instruction is available at Kite Beach. First, you learn how to fly the kite; then you practice body-dragging (letting the kite pull you across the water); finally, you step onboard. Anyone can try here, though: a reef keeps waters near shore flat for beginners, while the more experienced can head beyond the reef to tackle-breaking waves.

Prince William Sound, Alaska United States

Prince William Sound, a largely unspoiled wilderness of steep fjords and mountains, glaciers, and rainforest, rests calmly at the head of the Gulf of Alaska. Sheltered by the Chugach Mountains in the north and east, and the Kenai Peninsula in the west, and with its sparkling blue waters full of whales, porpoise, sea otters, and seals, the Sound has a relatively low-key tourist industry. The only significant settlements, spectacular Valdez, at the end of the trans-Alaska pipeline, and Cordova, a fishing community only accessible by sea or air, are the respective bases for visiting the Columbia and Child's glaciers. 

The region’s first settlers, the Chugach Eskimos, were edged out by the more aggressive Tlingit, in their turn displaced by Russian trappers in search of sea otter pelts, and then by American gold prospectors and fishers. The whole glorious show was very nearly spoiled forever on Good Friday 1989 when the Exxon Valdez spilled eleven million gallons of its cargo of crude oil. Although the long-term effects have yet to be fully determined, the spill, fortunately, affected just a fifth of the Sound and today no surface pollution is visible.