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Thursday, October 31, 2013

October Wrap-Up

NotSures 3
Tyson 1
Wisconsin 1

Only five sessions this month.  I blame my newborn daughter.

10.12.13 Head High Waves with Offshore Winds at South Wisconsin

I made my way down there and the waves were better than anticipated.  The crowds were out in full force.  As a result, I went south at Wisconsin to get away from the in-plain-sight convenience peaks.

After an uneventful paddle-out, I perched and was rewarded with my first wave within eight minutes or so.  It was steep and everyone was watching, including a guy in front of me who saw the fire and pulled back.  I didn't want to go but I pretty much had to given the guy pulling back and having all eyes on me.

I airdropped down and pearled almost instantly.  Oof.

After waiting an hour for a wave that didn't close out, I caught one on which I was able to pump down the line and not much more.  The saving grace was the super pump I did in the critical section of the wave.  I was able to cover a lot of ground.

There was a shouting match after a young guy shamelessly burned an older dude and the older dude let him have it.  Deliciously.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

10.6.13 Swell and Crowd Holds at Tyson

It was a cold day in the water.  I think we're going through our first drop in temperature of the season, and the offshore winds typically push the clouds out into the ocean.  This means the sun's energy is radiated into space, since there is no blanket of clouds to hold in the heat.

I decided to paddle out even though the waves were still small (as expected) and the crowd was out in force (also as expected).  There are times when the cold will make the stoke meter will point ever-so-gingerly to the red (HA!), meaning I won't paddle out. 

This is due to the scores of winter sessions I've endured during which I rue the moment I decided to get out of my comfy surf check gear and slip on my wetsuit.  The plus side of the equation, is the precipitous drop in head count. 

The reason for all this "I was cold" hubaloo is to illustrate how much of a pussy I felt when a girl paddled out in one of those I'm-wearing-a-fullsuit-but-my-asscheeks-are-out wetsuits.

I didn't catch any waves, save for some forgettable near-shorebreak racy waves/closeouts, in the first hour.

Eventually, I got a look at a double-up and tucked into the tube.  I'm happy to say I was in the right spot of the wave and the barrel spun around me for over a second before I reached my destiny toward the sand.

My teeth were chattering out of control and I was over it after about seventy-five minutes.

10.5.13 Weekend Crowd Descends like Maggots to Smaller NotSures

The crowd was evident right away.  I saw the blackheads on the otherwise smooth ocean surface before I saw the waves.

The winds were still great, so the waves were at their maximum potential given the swell they had to work with.

I caught a left within ten minutes of paddling out, but it closed out right away.

I caught a right and was blinded by the morning sun as I bottom turned.  I went mostly by feel and snapped too late, my fins released over the shoulder and I tumbled.

I caught a zippy left and pumped a couple of times.  I was FLYING down the line.  I spotted my chance, just past the spilling lip, and I did something I can't remember happening since 2003 La Bocanita.  I snapped so suddenly I kicked my fins out of the water.  I'd like to say I spun it halfway around and rode it out fakie, then engaged my fins to spin out of it.  In reality, I'd made it ninety degrees and slumped forward.

The combination of swelling crowd and scarcity of waves (thanks to the high tide) sapped my stoke for the day.  I packed it in.

10.4.13 Good-Sized, Mostly Closing Out, NotSures

I could see the waves from the coffee shop, so I knew I'd be surfing. 

Most of the waves were, as Aaron would say "big stinkin' closeout"s (he's Christian so his vocabulary has been limited by Jesus Himself.

I got out there right on the north end of the big vacant lot where the townhomes are going in.

I got a couple of ok lefts and lost out on a sick set right due to a guy with shaggy hair on a thin old school shortboard.

I got my revenge on what appeared to be a sick left.  It was pretty big, about head-and-a-half and I was on it.  It was a steep drop, and the biggest wave I've caught on this board.  Shaggy was paddling hard for it.  I whistled and he kept paddling.  I started yelling and he pulled back.

Within two seconds of his pulling back, a fifteen+-yard slab detonates in front of me, closing out the wave.

I surface after dealing with the decaying drama and Shaggy is staring through me.  I look at the foam trail to confirm what I saw on the wave, a LONG straight line of foam where the thing closed out, that was completely unmakeable.  I mean COMPLETELY unmakeable.

I see him shaking his head as I'm paddling out.  I keep paddling out.  He throws his hands up in a WTF manner. 

Since he was being such a little bitch, I felt the need to calm him down. 

I matter-of-factly explain, "The wave closed out completely and I kicked my board out".

He says, "If you're not going to make the wave, don't call people off of it".

Because that's what everyone does, "Gee, I don't think I will make this wave, despite being on the wave with speed already. You go ahead.  Take the pumping area of the wave and use that real estate for dropping in right next to the closeout.  I'll watch from back here while I eat your spray and we risk getting boards and bodies tangled in the bedlam".

I say, "Nobody could've made that wave".

"I could've made it", he seethes.

I couldn't contain myself. I broke into a wide smile, and exclaimed, "Yeah OK bro!", as I paddled back towards where I'd caught that beast.  I heard him murmuring something to his buddy but wasn't all that interested in what it was.  Probably discussing the government shutdown or something...

I caught an ok right in front of his buddy and slayed it with a pretty sick snap.  In retrospect, it would have been kind of funny to jump off my board right by him and say, "Man, that thing just SLAMMED shut!".  It would have pissed Shaggy off hard.

I caught one in after that wave.

Friday, October 4, 2013

10.1.13 Tricky and Hollow Not Sures: Four Waves = Four Slams

Well the surf gods are certainly smiling on Oside after a long sabbatical.  Another combo swell day graced with offshore winds was upon us.

I got out there in between Tyson and Wisconsin, a spot I will now refer to as Not Sures. 

It was pretty consistent out there and thankfully there weren't too many heads.  It was good-sized surf, but not big enough to keep the crowds away.  The upcoming peak of the high tide weighed heavily on my mind, meaning any surf would be fleeting and getting fat as the session progressed.

I paddled out to an empty-ish wedge that didn't seem to be getting the attention it deserved.

I had that antsy feeling of Gotta-Catch-A-Wave, The-Tide's-Going-Up and the frustration that goes with it.  I felt like a dog in heat and all the fine bitches were either too far away or, to a lesser extent, had some other rabid dog on them.

Eventually I saw my opening.

I started the session off with a right and gashed it pretty well a couple of times.

I then caught a left that went nowhere.

After sitting for about ten minutes and feeling my wave lust reach a fever pitch, I went on this right that seemed unmakeable.  I barely got into it and tucked into a crab grab and was instantly blinded by the morning sun blasting me in the barrel.  I remember squinting and/or closing my left eye, watching the falling lip spin just in front of me and then BOOM.  I went up into the wall and slammed. I went over the falls IN the barrel, which some would say is an art form.

I gathered my wits and equipment and paddled back out.

I saw a sick right break about thirty yards north and only the left was being taken advantage of.  I got in position, perched, and within a minute I was rewarded for my foresight.

I dropped down into this meaty right and crab-grabbed yet again.  I remember (just after I put my knee down) thinking I probably had enough time to do a proper pig dog.  In about a second after stomping down, I was enveloped by a throaty, frothy barrel.  It was HUGE, probably as big a right barrel as I've ever gotten outside of the tropics.  I didn't have to worry about running out of room from side to side, and the thick layer of frothy cream kept the sun out of my eyes, both directly and through the reflective powers of the water.

I was in there a solid amount of time before I saw the right join the left into a horrendous closeout about five yards (?) in front of me.  I made an executive decision and tried to pull through the wall and out the back.  Bad idea.  My board got stuck in the wave and I was weightless, heaved up by the wave in its dying breath.  I felt my board graze my feet and I could almost feel my nuts getting crushed by my board. 

Miraculously I came up unscathed and my board was right next to me.  I took a huge gasp of air and paddled back out.

I'd had enough of this crab-grab BS and swore next right I would pig dog that ish.  I chose a late drop with very little setup time and my rail stuck in the wave.  My board went over the falls and I followed shortly thereafter.  Oof.

I'd gotten swept down to Wisconsin about ten minutes later. I caught a right and bottom turned, putting too much pressure on my front foot.  My fins released and I ended up doing what felt like digging your frontside rail on a snowboard.  The liquid state of the water made it much more palatable, though, compared to its frosty counterpart.

The waves then stopped breaking outside and it was shorebreak closeouts only.  I caught one in and headed home.