I need to take care of some business, since this is my 100th post on this blog.
First, a big FU to all the haters. Yeah, you know who you are. (Editor's Note: There aren't any haters that I'm aware of as I'm convinced very few people besides me read this)
Oh, I almost forgot, a big FU to OPEC and their "tensions in the Middle East may cause oil production problems in the future" excuse for raising gas prices to the mid $4 level about six weeks ago. It's come down to the lower $4 range now, but still!
On to today's session...
I blew it by not getting up as early as I should have. The high tide, which has been the kiss of death for quality sessions in the morning, was peaking just before eight o'clock, which meant I had to get out there at sunrise to have any shot at quality waves from this swell. I didn't get to Oside until about 6:40.
I gave Pier a polite glance. It stayed true to recent form and produced nothing but shorebreak, unless you count some fat rollers on the "outside".
I was really jonesing today so it was going to take some really dismal conditions to make me drive back with dry hair.
A guy out there on a red airbrush board was tearing apart the left that forms off the jetty. It looked downright decent. I U-turned, parked and suited up.
A guy named Larry was parked a few spots down from me. I recognized his van from sessions of yore by its haphazard sticker placement. He told me about surfing a spot off Barking Sands, which I recognized as a military base on the westside of Kaua'i. He said he saw Laird Hamilton out there. I was going to break into my I-almost-got-run-over-by-Laird-Hamilton-at-Outside-Hanalei but couldn't find a break in the chatter.
I finished suiting up and paddled out, after much consternation, in front of the condo building. The good news was the water surface was smooth, the crowds were relatively light and the sun was out. The bad news was the waves were inconsistent, mostly small and fat.
I caught a wave within eight minutes of paddling out. I got up late, saw that it was closing out, and didn't bother to descend the wave. I kicked the board in front of me and let the wave wash over me.
Bad timing. No, I didn't get throttled by a monster set. My faith was instead tested by a three-stage development of ice cream headaches, each wave of the set making the pain progressively worse.
It made me think, what is a bigger stoke killer than ice cream headaches (barring major injuries)? I decided belly rash is the biggest stoke killer I've experienced. I've gone in during amazing waves because of belly rash, but not for any other reason (other than work appointments, so one could argue that's a big stoke killer too).
I caught another left and this one had more of a line to it. I decided to make a drawn-out bottom turn to have a better look at the crashing lip but chose the wrong wave. The section I'd been eyeing crashed about a second too quickly and I didn't react quickly enough to turn a lip bash into a foam climb. Bummer.
I caught a little right that I got some speed on. I went for a lip bash and semi-succeeded. I climbed up a bit and the wave batted me down. I rode away clean, but I will get no calls from the surf scouts on this wave...!
I caught another left which fattened as soon as I popped up. I did what I consider the sickest soul arch (longboard move) of my life, even incorporating my arms while looking up at the sky. I did get some pumping in, but it was for naught.
I was paddling about twenty feet parallel to a logger, though a bit inside of him. He missed the wave, so he called me into it. I couldn't catch it either though. It looked like it might have had a solid smacking section but I guess I'll never know for sure.
The waves got fatter and fatter and my stoke was inversely affected. I went in, desuited and hit the road.