We get heat waves here in Southern California. In San Diego, it's not so bad. We just open up all of the windows and doors, turn on the fans and move slow. If you reach the boiling point you pull the rip cord; grab the bike and bolt for the beach.
You want real summer heat? You look for that in August, on the floor of the San Fernando Valley, somewhere near Sutter and Winnetka. You'll find it. The Valley get's frickin' hot. Spend time in that devil's cauldron and you'll leave with your scrotum so sweaty and pliable that it'll span your thigh-gap like a diaphanous curtain of warm bubble gum. That's hot, sticky hot.
And if you find yourself stewing in that pit? There's nothing to do but head west. Run the canyons and blow out onto the Malibu coast. Take that instant temperature drop right in the face. Bring your board. You never know, you might get lucky and find yourself in the front row of a full on California summer classic: high pressure blue skies, south swell. Time it right and it'll be a weekday which means you're paddling out to Secos with just a couple of other guys in the water. There might even be a late summer south pushing some head high screamers across the Body rock and into the cove.
The heat's my compass. When it gets hot, I head for water- things tend to get much better from that point forward.