Surf 100 miles inland

I had the joy of watching the SuperGirl surf competition in San Diego a few weeks ago. So humbling inspiring! But I never see people training here. Where do they train? When I found out…well… check it out for yourself below. You’ll never look at your kids fees for soccer camp the same way again.
- Cris

Surf Ranch: Where the Ocean Forgot to Show Up

If you’ve ever dreamed of surfing in California but thought, “Ugh, the beach is too close to the ocean,” then do I have news for you. Welcome to Surf Ranch, the ultimate inland wave paradise built by Kelly Slater, world surfing legend and apparently the only person who looked at a dusty plot of land in Lemoore - 100 miles from the nearest coastline - and thought, “This could use a perfect barrel.”

Yes, this is a real place. A 2,000-foot-long pool of engineered perfection in the middle of cow country, where tractors outnumber Teslas and the nearest saltwater is probably a margarita. The Surf Ranch is where Mother Nature meets Silicon Valley, only she’s been replaced by algorithms, hydraulics, and a $30 million budget.

Waves Without Wind, Sand, or Sharks

Surf Ranch is home to one of the most advanced wave machines in the world - an enormous, shimmering rectangle of water designed to produce the perfect wave every time. Each swell is pulled by a hydrodynamic plow (imagine a metal train on steroids) that glides down a track and sends a 45-second wave curling down the pool.

No waiting, no guessing, no “dude, the tide’s wrong today.” Every wave is identical - scientifically sculpted and mathematically timed. If Poseidon saw this, he’d probably file for early retirement.

And because this is California, it’s solar-powered, of course. The sun fuels the waves that crash under an endless blue sky while nearby cows chew grass, wholly unimpressed.

Going Somewhere? Protect Your Trip (and Your Sanity)

Where the Elite Come to Play Surf God

Here’s the part that’ll leave you blinking in disbelief: you can’t just buy a ticket. Surf Ranch is invitation-only—or you can book a “private experience” that costs more than a used Tesla. It’s the kind of place where pro surfers, billionaires, and the occasional pop star show up in head-to-toe neoprene to chase mechanical perfection.

There are no surf shacks here, no beach bars, no bonfires. Instead, you’ll find sleek decks, cameras capturing every angle of your ride, and a team of techs adjusting the wave parameters like NASA engineers prepping for launch. It’s equal parts beach party and science experiment - minus the beach.

And yet, somehow, it works. The wave is that good. Ask anyone who’s surfed it, and they’ll get that dazed look in their eyes, like someone describing a religious experience. “It’s… flawless,” they whisper, as if afraid the Pacific might overhear and get jealous.

The Desert Mirage of Surfing

Standing at Surf Ranch is surreal. You’re surrounded by flat farmland, the kind of place where you’d expect to see tumbleweeds and maybe a lone gas station selling bait. Then, out of nowhere - boom! - a glassy turquoise lagoon, with surfers slicing across waves that look digitally rendered. It’s Instagram meets irrigation canal.

The contrast is dizzying: one minute you’re watching a perfect pipeline form under an open sky; the next, you’re hit with the faint scent of hay. It’s as if someone dropped a slice of Hawaii into a cornfield and said, “Yeah, this seems reasonable.”

The absurdity is part of the charm. It’s like stumbling upon a luxury ski resort in Death Valley or a rainforest spa on Mars. You can’t quite wrap your head around it, and that’s what makes it fascinating.

Who Actually Comes Here?

That’s the mystery, isn’t it? Who are these wave-chasing unicorns with the time and wallet to fly to Lemoore for a single surf session? The guest list reads like a mix between a Red Bull commercial and a Forbes gala—pro athletes, venture capitalists, a few lucky mortals who cashed in every favor they’ve ever had.

There’s something captivating about it, though. These people aren’t lounging on yachts or sipping champagne in Cabo. They’re standing barefoot in the Central Valley, grinning like kids, waiting for their turn on a wave that doesn’t exist anywhere else. It’s a rare collision of obsession and engineering where human ingenuity outpaces nature, and then paddles right over it.

Would I Go?

In a heartbeat. There’s something irresistible about the idea of surfing an artificial ocean, of defying geography just because we can. Sure, it’s absurd. Yes, it’s a little indulgent. But isn’t that the fun of it?

See you next Wednesday.

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