Ali contacted me about surfing with her this afternoon. My wetsuit was still very wet from the morning sesh so I was heavily leaning towards trunking it.
I met her there. It looked really bad. We walked down the beach towards Trees towards what appeared to be a mysto peak. As we got closer, we became aware of its deceit. Ali suggested jogging back and we did so, but she quit on me. We ended up paddling out just south of the D St stairs.
My first wave was the wave of the day. I caught it as it ran into a smaller wave in front. The slope was perfect for launching me into it with speed. I rose up, then back down. I did another pump, found a mini-section and snapped, sending a thin rooster tail of spray up in the air. I then bonked the whitewash, descended and kicked out.
Jumping back on my board, I realized I'd ridden this wave almost to the sand. It was the only wave I saw do that during the entire session.
A second wave arrived and it didn't have the push. I got up on it slowly and gained a little speed. The fatness of the wave overpowered my surf talent, so I faded.
Ali was commenting on how she wanted to try a bigger board than her 5'11", as she was having trouble catching waves. I offered to switch boards with her and she accepted. I then paddled on the most feminine board I'd ever ridden. Pink streaks near the rails and flowers on the underside would make any passers-by assume I led an alternative lifestyle. I was secure in my sexuality, having recently taken an internet test revealing I was only 49% gay.
I caught a right on the 5'11" and got speed only when I went up for a hit. I liked the drive this had up the face, but not much else about the board.
Ali and I caught one in. She went right and I went left. I was right in the pocket of this semi-fatty (wow, I haven't uttered that statement since my single days!), but couldn't descend to generate speed. It felt like I was hanging ten, moving forward, yet staying still position-wise on the wave.
We were both getting chilly, so we bailed.