How to keep dry when it’s hot and muggy

It’s a steaming-tropical, late-summer day in Cabo San Lucas. Needless to say, booze is flowing. The past few days, portly Mexican women have been stomping around the Mango Deck, pouring diluted tequila shots down your throat without permission. They blow whistles, shake your head, squeeze your nipples and shove your face in their bosom. Your pores are wide open and leaking. It could be the liquor, the humidity, the malnourishment or the strict diet of Pastor tacos you’ve been cursing your stomach with for days on end.

So, you leave the madness for a bit and hop in your buddy’s un-air-conditioned ’98 Explorer. It takes a while to start, he blames the transmission, gets it going and you think Fuck… is this worth it? It is, a proper hurricane swell’s drifting through and on the Pacific side offshore winds greet the A-Frame lips of waves that you have no idea how to get down to.

You can’t stop thinking about the heat. You’re packed in with four pals and too many surfboards. The only thing nursing your hangover’s the luke warm Modelo in your hand because all the water’s gone. As you scoot your ass deeper into leather, your t-shirt becomes one with your back. But, it’s hard not to notice how cool and comfortable you are below the waist. It’s a saving grace, it’s invigorating. Could it be CarbonCool compression? The extra bit of lining in your crisp, blue Imperial Motion, Carbon Premiere boardies wicking the sweat away.

You make it to a barren road off the side of the highway. Your buddy holding the reigns swears this is where the waves are and you’re inclined to believe him. You bounce down the gravel, hold the boards together and listen the painful grind of fiberglass. The car pulls up on the sand, and the boys go out to check it. It’s a teepee affair; lefts, rights, straights! Oh, the opportunities are endless and there’s not another soul in sight. No beat’s skipped, the hangover’s alleviated. Someone says something stupid like, “we’re out there!” And you hit the water as fast as your little legs can take you. The next four hours it pumps and while everyone complains about their welted, rashed up thighs, yours are smooth as can be. Must be that extra lining in your trunks, must be the CarbonCool compression.

You dig this? Give them a look!