My dad used to call it a drift: The south to north current that usually drives surfers mad at beach breaks during the summer months in Southern California. Enough west in it, or maybe some windswell, and you might be able to fight it and stay in your spot, but anything from deeper south and forget it. A river runs through it. Wave as you pass the spot you parked your car.

Today we enter the 4th of July weekend and welcome the general public back down to the beach. Watch as they emerge from their Covid safe houses and empty their Amazon carts onto the sand. They will enter the sea toting and paddling every alternatively shaped, inflatable soft top vessel they could accumulate over Covid, spurred on by enough JOB and Ben Gravy YouTube binge watching to paddle themselves straight to the peak at Pipe if they could. And while Pipe sleeps for summer, they settle for your local beach break. Come here often? Well as awful as that may sound, this morning I realized there is hope. And the hope comes in the form of current. The drift.

I checked the surf today, assuming this might be my last “real surf” for the weekend as lineups and parking lots clog and I wave the white flag and let the amatuers have it for the holiday — much like an alcoholic on New Years Eve, looking around and wondering where everyone was the rest of the year and deciding maybe he outta skip that one night. As I watched a thick blanket of humanity cover the lineup over the course of a few minutes I noticed that they moved south to north at a pretty decent clip. A few minutes later they were gone, sailing somewhere far to the north. I saw Archy and Pancho and a few other locals able to stick it out where we should be so I knew it wasn’t impossible. I suited up and had a blast, a low expectation turned into a day-making session, with just enough current to send the surf school to bluer pastures while those of us with the tricep power stuck to peak.

As I check the forecast for the rest of the weekend I see that we have a decent amount of steep south forecast — maybe just enough to get me to put down a Miller High Life and go surf each morning. Maybe. Something to consider. But for those of you kicking around home cooking and grilling or doing the things that they market us to do: chuck this playlist we made on: it’s called FLOW. Or check em all on — we’ve got plenty of tunes curated and dialed in by our music editor Maya Eslami ready to keep you happy the whole long weekend.

And keep an eye on the forecast. Just enough drift. Our little secret. —Travis Ferré