Well, today I got on the road early and after some fun subdeveloped nation roadwork-riddled road driving, I got there before the sun had risen. The sunrise was a disappointment, as heavy clouds enshrouded the orb during the infancy of its triumph over the horizon.
I was told by magicseaweed to expect 3-4' surf. They were off by a foot, so only about 30%! I thought I'd seen a nice one peel down the pointbreak so I veered left. My feet hit the river and I waited. And waited. And waited for something to show. It looked FLAT out there the vast majority of the time. Every couple of minutes a too-small wave would break. About every eight or so minutes a meaty one would break. I thought about turning to the beachbreak but was saved from that, albeit temporarily, by a meaty one's arrival.
I made my way out to another empty lineup. I sat for a bit, then paddled as the peaks shifted either away from me or resulted in no-go closeouts. I swear I thought I heard them cackling with every initial crackling of each lip. Eventually, I linked up with a set wave that b a r e l y let me on it. I dropped in late, swooped around and lacerated the lazy lip. I put so much oomph into it I slid the tail out but it was awkward-feeling. I recovered and kicked out but not all that amped despite having made the fins slide out.
The "set waves" that were headed for the deeper takeoff spot seemed to back off and break too far inside. And the ones in the middle spot were sectioning off. Case in point, I caught one there and pulled through the lip when it became clear there was no making it.
I came to the realization that the embarrassing riches of sand were effing with the bathymetry and therefore, the waves. This epiphany coupled with a bad smell joined forces to make me bail and head west toward the beachbreak
I was told by magicseaweed to expect 3-4' surf. They were off by a foot, so only about 30%! I thought I'd seen a nice one peel down the pointbreak so I veered left. My feet hit the river and I waited. And waited. And waited for something to show. It looked FLAT out there the vast majority of the time. Every couple of minutes a too-small wave would break. About every eight or so minutes a meaty one would break. I thought about turning to the beachbreak but was saved from that, albeit temporarily, by a meaty one's arrival.
I made my way out to another empty lineup. I sat for a bit, then paddled as the peaks shifted either away from me or resulted in no-go closeouts. I swear I thought I heard them cackling with every initial crackling of each lip. Eventually, I linked up with a set wave that b a r e l y let me on it. I dropped in late, swooped around and lacerated the lazy lip. I put so much oomph into it I slid the tail out but it was awkward-feeling. I recovered and kicked out but not all that amped despite having made the fins slide out.
The "set waves" that were headed for the deeper takeoff spot seemed to back off and break too far inside. And the ones in the middle spot were sectioning off. Case in point, I caught one there and pulled through the lip when it became clear there was no making it.
I came to the realization that the embarrassing riches of sand were effing with the bathymetry and therefore, the waves. This epiphany coupled with a bad smell joined forces to make me bail and head west toward the beachbreak
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