The days of June are peeling away, like the leaves on a steamed artichoke next to a dish of melted butter. What comes next is obvious: July, 2008. This means another surf trip to the Pacific coast of mainland Mexico is just days in the future.

I've been fortunate to visit this desolate stretch of land in each of the last five years; this visit will be my sixth. My first visit was based on nothing more than a bit of research, and a lot of luck. The results were so memorable, that I returned the following year, and convinced several buds to come with me.

On the second visit I met Malo, a surfer from Seal Beach who was also surfing Mexico, and who also brought his friends. He and I compared notes, made some informal plans, and established what has become a tradition. The crew evolves from year to year, with many of the same surfers returning, some taking a bye, and new faces assuming their places.

Among the steady group: John who surfs with shades, Mike my longboarding bud from Santa Cruz, and of course Malo and me. Among the reoccurring members: Kevin from Washington D. C., Willy the boogie boarder who takes great water pictures, Bob from Austin with the inspirational surf style, Dave from Southern California who surfs without ever getting visibly tired, and Tim who is humble and self deprecating, but somehow gets himself into the most awesome waves and pictures every year.

Among those who have made at least one appearance: Steve from Oregon, Tom from Los Gatos, Tony the prison guard, Richard who brought his son one year, Rick the former model, and Casey who wants to return.

This year will be no different; some rookies to share the memories, and some returning friends with whom we will surf again. Of course Malo and I will be there too.

And the waves? We've surfed double-overhead mackers, overhead challengers, head high fun waves, and chest high ekers.The breaks include a world-class point break, a great curving stretch of land that forces waves to peel, a gnarly messy beach and rocky point break, a classic hollow beach break, and an urchin-infested cobblestone-bottom break called "Poison." I'm certain we haven't surfed all the possible spots, perhaps this year we'll experience a new one.

We've traveled to the waves by boat, by truck, and sometimes even by foot. We've stayed year after year in a surf camp with great hosts who go out of their way to help us find waves, recover from previous sessions, and prepare for the next. We've played guitars and sung at the sunset, imbibed innumerable beers, eaten more seafood than I can remember, gone swimming around the distant bird-shit-painted craggy rock at the mouth of the bay, gone fishing, stared at the lightning storms in the evenings, and slept soundly between surf sessions.

We've got memories from the spoken word, the written word, thousands of pictures, and a goodly number of videos. These visits have fueled a plethora of DogMan Chronicles. It occurs to me the memories, and my anticipation of the next trip just inspired this column, yet another installment of "DogMan does Mexico."

Your task is obvious: keep clicking on PacificWaveRider.com and DogManSurf.com to participate vicariously in the trip to Mexico. I'll try to post a quick update from mid-visit, and there will be multiple columns forthcoming when I return. Expect lots of pix, maybe some clips, lots of tall tales, exaggerations and even outright lies. But it's all intended to share the stoke.