It’s been a long day’s journey into tonight. Just to get to where I’m sitting right now— economy middle seat of a United flight, elbows tucked in close, typing through turbulence on a tray table behind the fully reclined seat in front of me somewhere over the Pacific Ocean writing you a letter about going on a surf mission — is a bit of a miracle. Last night I wasn’t so sure I’d make it this far.

Being blessed enough to chase waves across the globe is always a miracle, but tonight, it feels especially…unlikely. I’m damn near tears as the new Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds record Wild God plays full volume at 32,000 feet realizing how ridiculous what we do is.

Surf travel was once a regular thing for me: throwing my life into total disarray in pursuit of my selfish love of remote airport beers, waves and culture. That was living! Sometimes I even managed to convince people with corporate cards that the results of these trips were entertaining enough to be funded and worthy of a read. Nowadays they feel like something else. They feel like …a hassle. Hard. Logistically implausible. Not even worth it sometimes. As life takes on more responsibility, my awe for the lengths we all go to surf new places has drastically increased. Hell, getting down to ride a few mid-week at your homebreak is hard enough, but chasing waves across the planet? Are we nuts? Why do we do these crazy things? Why would we ever consider bringing a big bag of surfboards through LAX? What’s wrong with us?

The answer to all this won’t be available to me until I’m writing to you on the way home of course, by then experiencing the euphoria of having done something. Regardless of pass or fail, we’ll have a tale to tell. The heartbeat of it all isn’t unlike the one that keeps me writing these notes to you every Friday (sometimes inspired, other times not so much, but always sending), trying to make Inherent Bummer bloom amid an industry ice storm. Sink or swim, barrels or nah, the attempt brings a satisfaction that makes walking through the door of your house afterwards feel pretty darn good. And that’s what surf travel is: Lunacy as protest.

As my really bad airplane coffee sloshes around dangerously close to my laptop, I’m finally smiling about this mission. It took me a minute, and I’m nowhere near through with the logistical nightmare of pulling it — hell, it’s just beginning — but I’m reminded of what pro snowboarder and Natural Selection Founder Travis Rice said about going where we’re going to attempt what we’re attempting: “It takes an incredible amount of reckless optimism” which is a pretty good philosophy for surfing and living and running Inherent Bummer. The best barrels of your life are always the ones that didn’t look like you’d make and you probably shouldn’t have paddled for in the first place — the rest are just closeouts and those are pretty cool too. —Travis Ferré

Stay tuned to @naturalselectionsurf and @inherentbummer for updates from the road over the next few weeks.

[Above art: Stanley Dorwood]