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Saturday, November 24, 2018

11.24.18 Quick Beachbreak Session

Two roads diverged in a beach
and I-I took the one less traveled
and that has made all the difference
(from my recollection of an 8th grade Robert Frost poster)

I took the street side as I wasn't feeling the rocks jutting out along the shore.  I wasn't sure when to go from littoral to sandbound so I guessed and was half-expecting someone to tell me not to go that way.  It was a quarter-lot's width and there was a little cocktail/bar/surf rental shack.  Sure enough, I heard a noise, looked up and it was that guy with whom I surfed a couple of sessions ago (or his brother, I can't tell them apart).

He said he'd be out soon and I said I'd probably miss him as I had a hard out.

I paddled out at the first sign of a decent wave and was surprised it didn't end in a horrendous closeout.

Long story short, I caught three waves in quick succession.  On one I might have gotten tubed but I had frontside turns on the brain after having only turned backside all day.  I did a sick superpump, on which it felt like the wave was amping to catapult me into the flats.

I managed to overturn™, which as I'm coining it, is to turn too hard for the section.  I probably could have gotten away with a cutback but with the tide being this low I didn't even consider it a possibility.

My other memorable wave was a double-up and, though I didn't realize it at take-off I did spot it while descending.  I prolonged the drop and bottom-turned hard.  Once again the wave was weirdly too weak for my off-the-lip.  I diagnosed it as a case of my being too early.

I went in and my car's clock read 802, 804 once I had changed into shorts and mounted up.  The drive back was gross thanks to the roadwork and I was stopped at one place for nearly ten minutes.  Thankfully I made it back just shy of 910 and avoided another browbeating!

11.24.18 Pointbreak Sunrise Session

My wife wasn't into me going surfing on this day.  The previous evening, she'd reminded me that our eldest's ballet recital rehearsal was today at 930. I thought, if I leave with enough time I can arrive right around first light, which is what I did.

Thanks to my wonky sleep schedule, I woke up without an alarm at 330.  I tried to go back to sleep and gave up after our youngest began wailing.  I tried to get her to come to our bed but her Mami appeared behind her and she somehow preferred her for soothing purposes.

I got in the car and left at 458 and got there at 540.  I got a little static from the guy at the front because I was there so early.  They have a rule wherein guests can't use the pool/showers/club area until 830 but I've learned that if I tell them I'm just going to the beach they're cool with it.  After a three-minute delay, I drove in.

The point looked good enough that I barely gave the beachbreak any consideration, despite how good it had been to me the last couple of sessions. 

There was one dude out but he was sitting on the shoulder on a bigger board, which is usually a sign there won't be a battle for waves.  I waded through the river towards my paddle-out path and soaked in the colors of the sunrise.  The sun's top third was visible in its orange glory.

Within five minutes I caught my best wave.  I did three turns on it and was amping.

On my second wave I did two turns, then kicked out as the wave fizzled a little close to the inside. As I splashed down and recovered, my buttocks happened to gently land on a submerged rock.  Back in my twenties this sensation would have driven me into a panic but I guess I care less overall now?

The waves vacillated between the main take-off point and the swing-wide point.  If you were in the perfect spot you could get a pump in and make it around the section, but the swing-wides seemed to have a soft shoulder.  The main take-off was great because at first turn the wall was very bowly.

I had a wave that was iffy from the main and I saw the swing-wide section off.  Normally I would just kick out but for whatever reason I went up and smashed it, throwing a good amount of spray in the process.


As the tide continued to drop along with the consistency, I longed for the sweet curves of the beachbreak.  With each subsequent wave I was more committed to staying at the point break, but then a local paddled out and where there's one dude, there tends to be a gaggle.

I caught an ok wave and rode it pretty far in.  I started surfing this wave almost twenty years ago and there was always a little beach area I could use for egress purposes.  I aimed for it (it's right in front of a big ceiba tree), while keeping my eyes glued to three jutting rocks in between the shore and me.

It was a bitch to go in and I spent five minutes doing the eggshell dance.  I vowed to never again go in that way, at least at that low a tide.  I beat feet to the club area and asked a guard the time.  He told me it was 728 so I walked briskly to the beachbreak, convinced I could buck the closeout-causing low tide and contentment-killing inconsistency and snag some more waves.

Wednesday, November 21, 2018

11.20.18 Ripping? at the Beachbreak

I decided to take advantage of our eldest daughter's week off from school and thereby my week off from shuttling her there in the morning.  I left our carport at 5:41 and shut the trunk, surfboard in hand at 6:30, nineteen miles and some iffy road construction later.

The point, as it's wont to do when it's small, was underperforming.  There was one guy out who was trying and got a wave in my three minutes of checking it.  It was a waist-high one with nice shape, but just too small considering I could probably get some shoulder-high waves if I walked ten minutes to the west.

As I did so this aguacatero ran up to me; a scruffy mutt with lively muted green eyes.  I petted it and rubbed its head.  I could tell someone was caring for it as its fur was not matted or mangy.  It was loving the affection and was really leaning into it.  After about a half-minute it wanted to play and tried to snag my dangling leash in its maw.  I retracted the leash upwards in time and I ran after it.  It stopped to look at me and then ran around as I squatted and jumped toward it.  I hit the rocky area and it started barking at me (it felt as though there was a tinge of sorrow in its barks but it might just have been my imagination).

About five minutes later it ran towards me from the opposite direction! The dog had taken the road and then come to the beach to meet me, this time with two other dogs I'd seen before in tow.  The novelty must have worn off quickly for he/she/it, as I began gaining on the pack.

The tide was pretty low, which can sometimes be a good thing for beachbreaks but usually it means closeouts are on tap.  I paddled out close to my ex-stepdad's beach house to try my luck there.  There were two dudes out at the shipwreck and the waves looked ok there; a critical-ish takeoff but a too-mellow face as a payoff for having stuck the landing.

I caught a couple of close-outs and then backdoored one.  I was thankfully a bit early and was underwhelmed by my timing on a pump.  I gained some speed but not as much as I could've.  I swooped up, tucked in and was ensconced in a swirling frothy barrel for maybe a beat and a half.  I sensed doom and was able to doggy-door it was the lip j u s t tapped me on the head.  This is the first barrel I've ever made at this beach and I was amping.

The morning's sun angle was wreaking havoc on my visibility on the rights, but I did catch one about ten minutes after my barrel.  I wound up on the bottom turn and smashed the lip.  I got hung up and exhaled quickly through my mouth as I leaned back so as not to pearl.  Another, less critical, turn followed and I kicked out as the wave fattened over a deep spot.

Another right towards the end of my session led to another nice wind-up.  But this time I lost sense of where on the wave I was when I turned, as when I did so my legs fully extended as too much of the board went over the lip.  As I surfaced I admired the foam trail my spray had wrought.

The waves turned off and I went in, no sign of the dog on the way back.

11.18.18 Peaky and Fun San Blas

The waves were looking pretty small for today but it might be the last southern pulse for the year so I headed down after my buddy (with whom I went to school down here) bailed on me.

The point looked too small, and I initially was excited by the three guys that were WAY out.  I thought to myself that perhaps they were fishing but I've never been right in that thought. Until today!

I headed to the beachbreak around the corner.  There was one dude out and so I walked past him.  I inevitably was swept into him by the current.  It was a guy five years my junior whom I'd met when he was little.  He and his two brothers lived in a house a couple of blocks away from my former stepdad's old beach rental.  He now runs a surf school and on good months does pretty well for himself.  Check him out at Surf Strong El Salvador

He chatted me up somewhat about the situation here in El Salvador which he thought was grim, but not too bad all things considered.  He really talked a lot about his time in the States, mostly in CA, but some in DC and VT.

The waves looked a bit closed out but there were definite running corners on some.  You could backdoor the peak and get a really good pump in to make it.  It was tons of fun when I didn't misread the waves.

I did a few frontside hacks and pulled one, as well as a weak carve down attempt.  I botched a couple of layback snaps, though I did get semi-close on one.

After I paddled back out and perched, I felt for my car key in my boardshorts.  The reassuring irregular mass was not to be found.  I entered panic mode as I frantically patted every corner of the pocket.  I was freaking, "There's no way I'll find it, it's gone!".  Then I went into, "The pocket is still velcroed closed, where/how could it have fallen out?!" I stopped patting it thinking I had to catch the next one in when I finally felt the key, tucked into the top center of the pocket, right under the flap! PHEW!

I'm really digging the water temp/clarity from the lack of rains.  It is an absolute godsend not having to battle crowds on B waves.  I can't imagine doing the California struggle every morning with ravenous snakers and achingly cold water...


Sunday, November 18, 2018

11.11.18 Unattainable El Recodo

I saw some barrels breaking from the beach club.  I'd finally been granted access inside.  The first attempt I was forbidden entry because they said the administration hadn't passed word down that Pando (owner of a lot inside the development) had greenlit me in (he had).

The next time we tried, we got in the gate but were barred at the beach club itself because Pando was a couple of months behind in paying his dues (he wasn't).

Due to it being my first time here I got excited when I saw the barrels but then realized from the angle that these barrels were breaking over shallow cobblestones and likely not worth the risk.

A squint into the rising sun's glare down the line revealed good news: nice lines coming down the point. 

I did the river paddle-out that few seem to do for some reason and I jumped onto my board more quickly than possibly ever at that spot.  I spotted no boils and the current was threatening to drag me down the point, where slightly submerged rocks could get me.  I sprint-paddled diagonally just as a set detonated on the outside and took a few on the head.  After the carnage, I was comically way past the preferred take-off spot, even inside the wave-swung-wide-section-off take-off spot.

I spent most of the hour paddling to attempt to stay in position.  Eventually, I paddled OUT deep, then across and in.  I continued my work on the liquid treadmill and finally caught a beast of a wave.  I cut back just enough on my first maneuver, then pumped and slayed the section which had presented itself.  I got hung up on the lip some, but managed to descend and pump a couple more times which led to another rooster tail of spray on my last turn.

I kicked out amped, but crestfallen at the paddle back that lay before me. 

Ten minutes later I was almost almost in position and caught a small one.  I faded off the back on my first turn and after I surfaced I realized I was really gone.  I figured Raquel needed help with the girls at the pool so I went in and managed to scrape my knee up on a surprise big boy rock on the inside.

That one wave was worth it.  After three sets in one hour (first one blasted me, second one I blasted, third one was blasted by the locals), I figured I'd gotten what I was going to get given the circumstances.

Sunday, November 11, 2018

11.4.18 Best Waves I've Ever Surfed in El Salvador

IN NOVEMBER! 😂😄😃😊😏😐😕😒😟😡😢

As you probably surmised from my emoji game, these are the only waves I've surfed in El Salvador in November.  The last time I was in El Salvador in November was my tenth grade year in 1995 and I wasn't surfing then.

I was allowed a reprieve from daddy duty on this day so I shot down to the beach.  I was overjoyed that I was allowed entry into Pando's development (he owns a lot there).  My joy turned to pain when the security guard by the pool (which is next to the point break I wanted to surf) said that Pando was behind on his monthly payments so I had to leave.  It turned out this wasn't the case and was a clerical error...

So I drove into the neighboring beach, parked the car and walked all the way back.  It looked abysmal.  Small and fat.  I watched it a few minutes, then walked all the way back to the beachbreak and paddled out.  I surfed that for forty-five minutes. What I should say is I sat there for 44.9 minutes and caught one wave that didn't close out right away. I had to finesse my way into it and did a crappy snap on the end section from which I rode away.

I decided this sucked, walked ALL the way back to the pointbreak and watched it for about seven or eight minutes.  Nary a set broke.  I turned to walk back, intent on paddling back out at a different part of the beachbreak (it had been slow but the tide had dropped and maybe it would start working).

I decided to turn back for one more look and I saw a set!  It wasn't much but my stoke threshold had been dropped to almost nil from the morning's festivities so out thar!

Long story short, I did one pretty sick snap on a wave and that was it.  The good news is I had gotten exercise and been outside.



I guess...