Missed-It Mike told us he had to stay and watch his young son. He told me his wife had to go to a hair appointment. I was suspicious as to the time of the appointment (before eight) but I let it slide because I didn't want to deal with the fallout (Mike can be touchy).
Forrest and I met at Tyson Street. Since I'd gotten there a little early, I surveyed the waves and proclaimed S. Jetty to be the best use of our time. We parked and Forrest patiently waited for me to change into my suit. I forewent the gloves and we were out there! We walked quite a ways south, hoping to avoid the crowd of rippers that tends to clog Harbor and Harbor-adjacent spots on the weekends.
The offshore winds made the air very cold. My first wave was sabotaged by these winds as I didn't get to drop down the face. Still, a good one to get started on as it wasn't a waste of the wave (the wave wasn't that good).
I caught a right, right into the risen sun and had a tough time seeing. I went by periphery and feel. I did an ok hit on it but I extended it too far and faded off the back.
My next wave was nice, but a little fast. Luckily, I was able to get around the section and hit it in a critical spot, sending a good amount of spray out the back. I recovered nicely, but the wave started threatening to close out, so I let it and went into it.
I caught a slow right, did a quick cutback, but lost the wave before able to bring it around to the wash.
I caught a right and set up in my barrel stance. I got in there quickly and could have made it, but I didn't angle toward the beach enough and got swept up in the wall. Major bummer as it would've been a sick one! Another bummer was that the camera didn't register my turning it on, so I have no footage. I would've been heartbroken to make a barrel like that and not have it on film, so there is some bittersweetness.
Then, tragedy struck. I paddled my ass off for and caught a nice right, but Forrest decided to snake me. Words can't describe the feeling of betrayal that kept stabbing me in the heart.
The waves then changed. All of the lefts had been pretty much closing out, but now they ALL seemed to be. The rights were not pouring through and we were getting a bit frustrated.
I tried my luck on a left, only to have the lip hit me in the chest almost immediately.
I gave the lefts one last chance to keep me out there, but they blew it by closing out on me.
I wish we'd paddled out earlier as it was a lot of fun at the beginning of the session...!
After much thinking, Forrest and I have decided to take ten days off from our surfing relationship. I think he freaked when I met his new daddy yesterday and acted out on those feelings today by burning me on a wave. On the eleventh day, I will call him to re-assess his commitment and friendship.
"If the best surfer in the water is the one having the most fun, Eddie P would be a promising amateur who eventually burns out and is forced to perform 'favors' for surf wax" -Anonymous
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Showing posts with label Forrest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Forrest. Show all posts
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
1.27.2012 BOOMING Torrey Pines "with Forrest"
This morning I met Forrest at our now usual spot in front of the first lifeguard tower at Torrey Pines. Our photographers (his mom and his new daddy) were meeting us there. They arrived quickly.
To my horror, I realized I'd somehow transported only one booty with me. The next tragedy I discovered was I'd taken the paper clip off my wetsuit closure zipper, but neglected to replace it with a new one. The offshore winds were going to make zipping in and out a challenge! Luckily Forrest's mom came through with a metal savior.
The waves out front were macking, and Forrest swore he saw some better lines to the north. I didn't argue with him, as he'd been watching it longer.
We walked up there, my left foot's toes were turning interesting shades of light purple/dark pink. We paddled out. With Forrest on his longboard, I gained on him and passed him quickly. The waves were coming in at a relentless rhythm and it was a brutal time getting out there.
After about twelve or so minutes of nonstop paddling, duckdiving, and more paddling, I arrived at my very temporary perch. We had paddled out at the crane that was retrofitting the ancient bridge connecting the city of San Diego to Del Mar, but looking back, I was easily 150 yards south of that. The swell had been steadily rising all night and peaking just as we were surfing. This means the sets were more numerous and longer in duration, which means the current was also at its max for the swell's duration.
I spotted Forrest paddling about fifty yards south of me. He had made it out after all! Because of the frequency of the waves, any attempt at pleasantries or exchange of battle stories was nixed due to us being on high alert of getting caught inside of a bomb set.
I'd made the dubious decision of bringing my standard 6'1", which is the thinnest, narrowest board I've ever ridden (not counting my 5'11" epoxy, as it floats me much better). Being on this board would mean having to be spot-on in my can-I-catch-this calculations and paddling my ass off to hopefully speed down these elevated faces.
My first wave arrived within fifteen minutes of perching. It let me in relatively easily, considering the amount of foam I was on and the offshores. I was wearing my gloves, so that may have helped, as I was moving that much water. I dropped down the face with just a little offshore-caused delay. I tried to make it around the section, but it took me down.
I paddled back out without incident. I dodged some big 'uns, and then less than ten minutes later, I caught my second wave.
This one was much more open and was a sheer pleasure to drop down. I had a little time to maneuver, but on waves this size and on aboard that small, that can be difficult to do. My other concern was putting myself in a position on the wave where I'd have no escape from the lip. This would lead me to get hit by that wave, then lose more position and possibly get smashed by the next wave too. With this in mind, I admired the view, my speed and the size of the oncoming section while quickly deciding to kick out and help increase my chances of a non-traumatic return to the outside. I caught A LOT of air while kicking out. What the camera catches is pretty funny, so be sure to pause and unpause the video quickly.
Forrest was nowhere to be found, but I figured he was somewhere north of me, as I hadn't seen him catch a wave.
On my way after this wave, there was no monster wave I'd feared. But about five minutes later, I did get trounced on a duckdive after deciding not to go on a wave that turned out to be a close-out. Ever since my near drowning experience in 1997, I have always panicked when being held underwater for longer than 7 or 8 seconds.
For some reason, during this beating, I had the Education Connection jingle stuck in my head and I was able to keep myself from panicking as a result. It's the first time I can remember I've taken a beating like that and not panicked, so I will have to remember this trick.
I kept getting swept down with every passing undulation beneath me. Pretty soon, I was floating by the southern half of the parking area. I passed three guys who weren't catching much either. I waved one of them into a wave I was too deep for.
Soon after they paddled past me to the north, the biggest wave of the day came. I paddled as hard as I could, my eyes constantly scanning the wave and assessing as to my chances of making it. Was I better off stopping and hoping for a lesser beating by being a bit inside of the detonation zone (Missed-It-Mike's method) or should I press on with some chance of escaping to safety under it.
I can say with full certainty that this was the hardest decision I've had to make in the water in this situation. The wave reared up and I panicked. I started my I'm-ditching-my-board motion, then recanted and duckdived as hard and deep as I could. I counted six Mississippis while underwater, but I had made it!
I came to the realization that the sheer terror of getting crushed was not worth the inconsistency of my sporadic rewards: Big open faces. I made plans to take the next one in. A small wave (just under head high) came through and I was on it. I had a hard time staying on it, but made the inside connection and get a small hit out of it. I walked up to the road and couldn't help feeling a little like Mad Max, with just one booty covering my feet.
To my horror, I realized I'd somehow transported only one booty with me. The next tragedy I discovered was I'd taken the paper clip off my wetsuit closure zipper, but neglected to replace it with a new one. The offshore winds were going to make zipping in and out a challenge! Luckily Forrest's mom came through with a metal savior.
The waves out front were macking, and Forrest swore he saw some better lines to the north. I didn't argue with him, as he'd been watching it longer.
We walked up there, my left foot's toes were turning interesting shades of light purple/dark pink. We paddled out. With Forrest on his longboard, I gained on him and passed him quickly. The waves were coming in at a relentless rhythm and it was a brutal time getting out there.
After about twelve or so minutes of nonstop paddling, duckdiving, and more paddling, I arrived at my very temporary perch. We had paddled out at the crane that was retrofitting the ancient bridge connecting the city of San Diego to Del Mar, but looking back, I was easily 150 yards south of that. The swell had been steadily rising all night and peaking just as we were surfing. This means the sets were more numerous and longer in duration, which means the current was also at its max for the swell's duration.
I spotted Forrest paddling about fifty yards south of me. He had made it out after all! Because of the frequency of the waves, any attempt at pleasantries or exchange of battle stories was nixed due to us being on high alert of getting caught inside of a bomb set.
I'd made the dubious decision of bringing my standard 6'1", which is the thinnest, narrowest board I've ever ridden (not counting my 5'11" epoxy, as it floats me much better). Being on this board would mean having to be spot-on in my can-I-catch-this calculations and paddling my ass off to hopefully speed down these elevated faces.
My first wave arrived within fifteen minutes of perching. It let me in relatively easily, considering the amount of foam I was on and the offshores. I was wearing my gloves, so that may have helped, as I was moving that much water. I dropped down the face with just a little offshore-caused delay. I tried to make it around the section, but it took me down.
I paddled back out without incident. I dodged some big 'uns, and then less than ten minutes later, I caught my second wave.
This one was much more open and was a sheer pleasure to drop down. I had a little time to maneuver, but on waves this size and on aboard that small, that can be difficult to do. My other concern was putting myself in a position on the wave where I'd have no escape from the lip. This would lead me to get hit by that wave, then lose more position and possibly get smashed by the next wave too. With this in mind, I admired the view, my speed and the size of the oncoming section while quickly deciding to kick out and help increase my chances of a non-traumatic return to the outside. I caught A LOT of air while kicking out. What the camera catches is pretty funny, so be sure to pause and unpause the video quickly.
Forrest was nowhere to be found, but I figured he was somewhere north of me, as I hadn't seen him catch a wave.
On my way after this wave, there was no monster wave I'd feared. But about five minutes later, I did get trounced on a duckdive after deciding not to go on a wave that turned out to be a close-out. Ever since my near drowning experience in 1997, I have always panicked when being held underwater for longer than 7 or 8 seconds.
For some reason, during this beating, I had the Education Connection jingle stuck in my head and I was able to keep myself from panicking as a result. It's the first time I can remember I've taken a beating like that and not panicked, so I will have to remember this trick.
I kept getting swept down with every passing undulation beneath me. Pretty soon, I was floating by the southern half of the parking area. I passed three guys who weren't catching much either. I waved one of them into a wave I was too deep for.
Soon after they paddled past me to the north, the biggest wave of the day came. I paddled as hard as I could, my eyes constantly scanning the wave and assessing as to my chances of making it. Was I better off stopping and hoping for a lesser beating by being a bit inside of the detonation zone (Missed-It-Mike's method) or should I press on with some chance of escaping to safety under it.
I can say with full certainty that this was the hardest decision I've had to make in the water in this situation. The wave reared up and I panicked. I started my I'm-ditching-my-board motion, then recanted and duckdived as hard and deep as I could. I counted six Mississippis while underwater, but I had made it!
I came to the realization that the sheer terror of getting crushed was not worth the inconsistency of my sporadic rewards: Big open faces. I made plans to take the next one in. A small wave (just under head high) came through and I was on it. I had a hard time staying on it, but made the inside connection and get a small hit out of it. I walked up to the road and couldn't help feeling a little like Mad Max, with just one booty covering my feet.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
1.7.2012 My First-Ever Session at Trails, with Forrest
Forrest had surfed Trails the preceding day and he'd stayed out for FOUR hours. He reported surfing 7-8' open faces with just a few people out. Meanwhile, I spent my surf-time begging Mike to paddle out with me into some empty and very-racy big waves. Mike wasn't in the mood and so I ended up not surfing.
Here is irrefutable video proof of the above taken by Missed-It Mike himself!
I told Forrest I wanted to go there and we loaded up the car and headed north.
We got off on the Basilone Road exit and zoomed through the entrance thanks to Forrest's California Day Pass. We drove to Trail 5 and put our gear on. We walked down and, though it looked a bit slow, I did see some steep ones out there and was excited to hit the water. We walked quite a ways north to counteract the effects of the expected longshore current.
The paddle-out was mellower than I expected, we had timed it well! The water was unexpectedly murky, but the weather being absolutely perfect still made the day amazingly scenic.
The waves were custom-made for a fish hybrid, its skatiness allowing for the rider to maneuver up and down the not-so-steep faces with ease. I, as usual, was on my DHD thruster but still had confidence I could snag a few.
A right came my way and I mini-pumped to wait for the wave to develop. Once it was ready, I went for a backhand smack. I went pretty vertical on it and I was rewarded with a non-make.
A SWEET left came and I was in a great spot for it, but Forrest was deeper and up and riding. It would have been a good one. Bummer.
I looked back and Forrest's board was gone. He swam in after it and I didn't see him again for a good twenty-five minutes.
I caught a right and attempted to hit it, but faded off the back.
A right came and I caught it and popped up. It was slow to develop, so I did a quick fade to set up for the eventual section. Once it did come, it shut down all at once.
About fifteen minutes passed before I got my next look at a catchable wave. It was a right. It looked like it might throw ever so slightly so I popped into my kneeboard stance and got covered up into the closeout. I got a nice little view out of it and a brief respite from the dullness.
Another right came and I smacked it ok. A guy dropped in on me down the line and it wasn't clear which way he was going, so I decided to cut the turn down. It work out though, because the wave didn't have much of a slope.
We made it in and when I took off my wetsuit, the small string attachment at the zipper came off. I'm hoping to fix this with a vinyl paper clip, otherwise I will have to remember to bring needlenose pliers with me or risk becoming a Neoprene prisoner.
Here is irrefutable video proof of the above taken by Missed-It Mike himself!
I told Forrest I wanted to go there and we loaded up the car and headed north.
We got off on the Basilone Road exit and zoomed through the entrance thanks to Forrest's California Day Pass. We drove to Trail 5 and put our gear on. We walked down and, though it looked a bit slow, I did see some steep ones out there and was excited to hit the water. We walked quite a ways north to counteract the effects of the expected longshore current.
The paddle-out was mellower than I expected, we had timed it well! The water was unexpectedly murky, but the weather being absolutely perfect still made the day amazingly scenic.
The waves were custom-made for a fish hybrid, its skatiness allowing for the rider to maneuver up and down the not-so-steep faces with ease. I, as usual, was on my DHD thruster but still had confidence I could snag a few.
A right came my way and I mini-pumped to wait for the wave to develop. Once it was ready, I went for a backhand smack. I went pretty vertical on it and I was rewarded with a non-make.
A SWEET left came and I was in a great spot for it, but Forrest was deeper and up and riding. It would have been a good one. Bummer.
I looked back and Forrest's board was gone. He swam in after it and I didn't see him again for a good twenty-five minutes.
I caught a right and attempted to hit it, but faded off the back.
A right came and I caught it and popped up. It was slow to develop, so I did a quick fade to set up for the eventual section. Once it did come, it shut down all at once.
About fifteen minutes passed before I got my next look at a catchable wave. It was a right. It looked like it might throw ever so slightly so I popped into my kneeboard stance and got covered up into the closeout. I got a nice little view out of it and a brief respite from the dullness.
Another right came and I smacked it ok. A guy dropped in on me down the line and it wasn't clear which way he was going, so I decided to cut the turn down. It work out though, because the wave didn't have much of a slope.
We made it in and when I took off my wetsuit, the small string attachment at the zipper came off. I'm hoping to fix this with a vinyl paper clip, otherwise I will have to remember to bring needlenose pliers with me or risk becoming a Neoprene prisoner.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
1.5.2012 15th Street Del Mar with Forrest AND Missed-It Mike!
After yesterday's less-than-stellar day at Oceanside, we were hoping to find a place that could handle the swell's energy directly and with open faces. We found it in 15th Street Del Mar. We paddled out without incident.
The crowd was on a wide range of wave-riding vehicles. We saw spongers, longboarders, shortboarders and sweepers. The only unrepresented populations were kneeboarders, kayakers and bodysurfers.
The waves were pretty consistent overall, but I was having a tough time catching any. If the wave broke, there was someone on it already. If there was no one on it, it would break on the inside. It was a frustrating thirty five (!) minutes, compounded by the fact that very few people out there could keep control of themselves or their equipment.
The good news is I was getting a lot of exercise and I was building a sweet callous on my Go Pro thumb, from all of the false starts.
Finally, I caught one that wasn't spoken for. A left came through and I popped up on it. I levitated on to the lip for a mini-floater, but I put too much weight on my toes and faded.
My second wave arrived about ten minutes later. It was a nice-sized right and I was able to hit it once well. I tried to put it on rail but I for some reason (probably a lack of volume on the rail) couldn't hold it. I think this is a disadvantage with this board as I rarely have issues with this move on other boards.
Not too long after this one, I caught a left. It didn't have too much of a line so I went for the smack quickly. I ALMOST pulled it but I guess I just didn't want it badly enough.
Another left came, very similar to my first wave of the day. I advanced across the wave by climbing up the foam a bit, got some speed and the wave really petered out on me after that.
My last wave was pretty good. A left came through and though it was a bit slow at first, I was able to gain some speed. Then I went lateral and went for a slash. At this point, I realized the wave and I were on the shallow part of the reef. The wave jacked up over my legs. A tail slide would've been a much better choice on this section, but I just didn't anticipate the change in steepness.
The crowd was on a wide range of wave-riding vehicles. We saw spongers, longboarders, shortboarders and sweepers. The only unrepresented populations were kneeboarders, kayakers and bodysurfers.
The waves were pretty consistent overall, but I was having a tough time catching any. If the wave broke, there was someone on it already. If there was no one on it, it would break on the inside. It was a frustrating thirty five (!) minutes, compounded by the fact that very few people out there could keep control of themselves or their equipment.
The good news is I was getting a lot of exercise and I was building a sweet callous on my Go Pro thumb, from all of the false starts.
Finally, I caught one that wasn't spoken for. A left came through and I popped up on it. I levitated on to the lip for a mini-floater, but I put too much weight on my toes and faded.
My second wave arrived about ten minutes later. It was a nice-sized right and I was able to hit it once well. I tried to put it on rail but I for some reason (probably a lack of volume on the rail) couldn't hold it. I think this is a disadvantage with this board as I rarely have issues with this move on other boards.
Not too long after this one, I caught a left. It didn't have too much of a line so I went for the smack quickly. I ALMOST pulled it but I guess I just didn't want it badly enough.
Another left came, very similar to my first wave of the day. I advanced across the wave by climbing up the foam a bit, got some speed and the wave really petered out on me after that.
My last wave was pretty good. A left came through and though it was a bit slow at first, I was able to gain some speed. Then I went lateral and went for a slash. At this point, I realized the wave and I were on the shallow part of the reef. The wave jacked up over my legs. A tail slide would've been a much better choice on this section, but I just didn't anticipate the change in steepness.
Monday, December 12, 2011
12.11.2011 Carlsbad: North Tammy's/South Cherry Street with Forrest, SUNSET SESH
Forrest wanted to go back to his place to get his 7'0" and get back out there. We kept our wetsuits on, parked at his place and walked out past PCH. I knew I was pushing my luck with my shoulder, but I decided to paddle out any way. Forrest was my ride home and I didn't want to sit around until it was dark.
We paddled out and the conditions were the same, just smaller. The good news is, every ten minutes or so, a set would come through. It wouldn't look like much, but when it hit the reef it would steepen up and start "throwing".
I caught a nice left, but it turned out to be fatter than I thought it would be. If you've had this happen to you on a blind date, having it happen to you while surfing is only slightly less tragic. I faded off the back after being too aggressive with my pumps.
A girl paddled out and sat deeper than me. Another left came through and she paddled for it. She looked like she was going to be too deep for it so I paddled for it. I kept looking towards her to see if she would go, obviously planning on pulling out if she went. She didn't, but the look on her face made me feel like I was being an a-hole. She made a face like she had just realized someone had waxed her board with dog poop.
I popped up with some speed. The wave didn't offer much, but I got a nice float out of it.
The girl paddled away immediately after the wave and we had it to ourselves again. A right came through and I was on it. It turned out to be super fast. I pumped a couple of times and did a floater but I somehow blew it. While underwater, I realized I should have did a cutdown and go for a high speed/low percentage (for me, at least) vertical lip bash. I would have had the speed and the power was there.
My shoulder began to really bother me and I lost my mojo. We saw a HUGE (shoulder-high) set roll through and briefly thought about planting ourselves out there waiting for one last one.
Ah, I forgot to mention how amazing and vibrantly red the sunset was. The waves weren't great but the scenery was amazing.
We paddled out and the conditions were the same, just smaller. The good news is, every ten minutes or so, a set would come through. It wouldn't look like much, but when it hit the reef it would steepen up and start "throwing".
I caught a nice left, but it turned out to be fatter than I thought it would be. If you've had this happen to you on a blind date, having it happen to you while surfing is only slightly less tragic. I faded off the back after being too aggressive with my pumps.
A girl paddled out and sat deeper than me. Another left came through and she paddled for it. She looked like she was going to be too deep for it so I paddled for it. I kept looking towards her to see if she would go, obviously planning on pulling out if she went. She didn't, but the look on her face made me feel like I was being an a-hole. She made a face like she had just realized someone had waxed her board with dog poop.
I popped up with some speed. The wave didn't offer much, but I got a nice float out of it.
The girl paddled away immediately after the wave and we had it to ourselves again. A right came through and I was on it. It turned out to be super fast. I pumped a couple of times and did a floater but I somehow blew it. While underwater, I realized I should have did a cutdown and go for a high speed/low percentage (for me, at least) vertical lip bash. I would have had the speed and the power was there.
My shoulder began to really bother me and I lost my mojo. We saw a HUGE (shoulder-high) set roll through and briefly thought about planting ourselves out there waiting for one last one.
Ah, I forgot to mention how amazing and vibrantly red the sunset was. The waves weren't great but the scenery was amazing.
12.11.2011 Oceanside: Deceiving Tysconsin with Forrest AFTERNOON SESH | BROKEN BOARD
During my previous session, I managed to aggravate a newly-acquired shoulder injury.
Thankfully, the swell sabbatical allowed me to take some time off to recuperate.
My shoulder was feeling 95%. Forrest wanted to hit it in the morning, but I had an appointment at my second job: Airport Bitch. He cruised over during the second round of football games and was raring to get out THAR. He wanted to go to Carlsbad as he thought it looked good. I wanted to go to Oceanside because of the steep S swell direction. I made my case and he was convinced.
We shot up there and made our usual rounds. The seas were smooth, but the waves were smaller than SurfLIE had claimed they would be. We saw some set wave nugs come through, especially just south of the pier. We debated checking Harbor but were so smitten by what we saw that we passed.
We got our stuff on and headed towards the pier. We walked quite a ways, then decided we weren't in the mood to sit in a pack and fight for waves when there were empty ones just a couple of hundred paces south.
I jumped on my DHD and started paddling after a chest-high set rolled through. Forrest was close behind on his ancient Stewart longboard.
A left came through and I paddled hard. I popped up and did a quick pump to floater and blew it.
A similar left rolled through within five minutes and I did the exact same thing, EXCEPT I ollied off the lip and on to the flats. I landed flat with considerable speed and tried to do an extreme backside fade bottom turn so that I lay down just in time and with enough speed to propel my head and upper body underneath the rolling foam. I was somewhat successful.
A waist-high right came and I paddled for it. It was slow, so instead of doing the Huntington Hop, I choked up on it, putting most of my weight on the front half of my board by shuffling my feet towards the nose. The wave seemed to like that, as it let me in to its surprisingly speedy pocket. I shuffled back, but was disoriented by my newfound velocity. I meekly attempted to hit the section, but it turned into a weird wash bonk/floater rather than a solid lip bash.
A nice steep left rolled in and I sprint-paddled to meet it. I slammed my weight on the back of my board to make the half-turn more quickly. I paddled hard towards shore. As the wave lifted my board up, I popped up and pumped from the get-go. While I was immediately disappointed in my decision to not bash the first section, I salivated as the oncoming lip approached.
I didn't have enough speed for an air, so I turned up hard from the bottom to the point that I rose up the wave face at about a 60-degree angle. I rotated my head and shoulders, then my hips and legs and SMASHED the lip. I have a tendency to fall backwards after this move. This time, I managed to drag my hand in the water and recapture equilibrium. NICE!
Forrest caught a wave and about halfway through his subsequent paddle-out, a clean-up set came. I was in a good spot, but Forrest was not. When this happens, I have an annoying habit of yelling, "Bye BYE!" followed by a quick wave just before initiating my duckdive.
After three waves, the thrill of escaping a slight beating withered. I couldn't see Forrest until the last wave washed over him. I noticed he was paddling weird and when I got a liquid "culata" from the wave, it allowed me to see why. I could see a nice white cross-section of foam surrounded by the long-ago yellowed glass.
I immediately started laughing, which is an a-hole move. I wasn't laughing at his misfortune so much as I was laughing at the conditions in which his log snapped. A longboard isn't easy to break, but it's difficult to break a log in these small waves ESPECIALLY considering he wasn't even riding the wave who did this to his board.
I told him we could go in if he wanted and we went in shortly thereafter.
Thankfully, the swell sabbatical allowed me to take some time off to recuperate.
My shoulder was feeling 95%. Forrest wanted to hit it in the morning, but I had an appointment at my second job: Airport Bitch. He cruised over during the second round of football games and was raring to get out THAR. He wanted to go to Carlsbad as he thought it looked good. I wanted to go to Oceanside because of the steep S swell direction. I made my case and he was convinced.
We shot up there and made our usual rounds. The seas were smooth, but the waves were smaller than SurfLIE had claimed they would be. We saw some set wave nugs come through, especially just south of the pier. We debated checking Harbor but were so smitten by what we saw that we passed.
We got our stuff on and headed towards the pier. We walked quite a ways, then decided we weren't in the mood to sit in a pack and fight for waves when there were empty ones just a couple of hundred paces south.
I jumped on my DHD and started paddling after a chest-high set rolled through. Forrest was close behind on his ancient Stewart longboard.
A left came through and I paddled hard. I popped up and did a quick pump to floater and blew it.
A similar left rolled through within five minutes and I did the exact same thing, EXCEPT I ollied off the lip and on to the flats. I landed flat with considerable speed and tried to do an extreme backside fade bottom turn so that I lay down just in time and with enough speed to propel my head and upper body underneath the rolling foam. I was somewhat successful.
A waist-high right came and I paddled for it. It was slow, so instead of doing the Huntington Hop, I choked up on it, putting most of my weight on the front half of my board by shuffling my feet towards the nose. The wave seemed to like that, as it let me in to its surprisingly speedy pocket. I shuffled back, but was disoriented by my newfound velocity. I meekly attempted to hit the section, but it turned into a weird wash bonk/floater rather than a solid lip bash.
A nice steep left rolled in and I sprint-paddled to meet it. I slammed my weight on the back of my board to make the half-turn more quickly. I paddled hard towards shore. As the wave lifted my board up, I popped up and pumped from the get-go. While I was immediately disappointed in my decision to not bash the first section, I salivated as the oncoming lip approached.
I didn't have enough speed for an air, so I turned up hard from the bottom to the point that I rose up the wave face at about a 60-degree angle. I rotated my head and shoulders, then my hips and legs and SMASHED the lip. I have a tendency to fall backwards after this move. This time, I managed to drag my hand in the water and recapture equilibrium. NICE!
Forrest caught a wave and about halfway through his subsequent paddle-out, a clean-up set came. I was in a good spot, but Forrest was not. When this happens, I have an annoying habit of yelling, "Bye BYE!" followed by a quick wave just before initiating my duckdive.
After three waves, the thrill of escaping a slight beating withered. I couldn't see Forrest until the last wave washed over him. I noticed he was paddling weird and when I got a liquid "culata" from the wave, it allowed me to see why. I could see a nice white cross-section of foam surrounded by the long-ago yellowed glass.
I immediately started laughing, which is an a-hole move. I wasn't laughing at his misfortune so much as I was laughing at the conditions in which his log snapped. A longboard isn't easy to break, but it's difficult to break a log in these small waves ESPECIALLY considering he wasn't even riding the wave who did this to his board.
I told him we could go in if he wanted and we went in shortly thereafter.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
11.30.2011 Oceanside: Back to Beautiful Tyson Street with Forrest, Strong Offshore
This morning I woke up just after three thanks to my decision to hit the sack just shy of 8:30 last night. I am a pansy when it comes to jet-lag and I'm still on Eastern time. It's not too bad, though, because it makes it so easy to wake up for dawn patrols.
I met Forrest at his pad in C-bad, transferred my gear into his Subaru and we shot up to Oside on the 101. We turned left on Cassidy, then right on the frontage road. Buc Beach looked surfable and my stoke-level rose quickly. Even lowly Oside Blvd showed signs of life!
We passed the lookout at the stop sign at Wisconsin Street and I was ready to suit up. We briefly debated checking Harbor but I was frothing too hard already. I transformed into Neoprene Man (4/3 suit, booties and 4mm gloves) and we got out there.
In our fervor, we realized we'd paddled out TOO far and right into the rip. Forrest was on his new log and wasn't amped on his board choice. The wind was strong from the northeast, blowing directly into the waves: a classic offshore day. Forrest's board had so much foam on it that it made it difficult to paddle into waves that steepened so quickly on a board with little rocker. The reminders about the board would continue throughout the session so keep that in mind...
After paddling in for some time and fighting the current, a nugget left came through. I caught it late (offshore) and dropped in cleanly. While setting my line after the initial take-off pump, I miscalculated where the lip would land and it decked me in the ribs just below my arm pit. I went flying down headfirst into the water and the ride was over.
Keep in mind that on south-facing beaches, the daybreak sun will wash out all rights as it hits its riders with full sun-to-the-face.
About ten minutes after my first wave I caught quite the right. The sun disoriented me and I leaned into a reflexive backside cutback to get it out of my eyes. I succeeded and, extending my body by unweighting my board, was able to smack it around to complete a solid backside roundhouse cutback. This is probably my best execution of that maneuver. YEOUH! (Onomatopoeic hoot transcription)
About a half-hour later, I caught another right and did some quick backside turns on it, though I blew my second one by going too far out on the shoulder and trying a turn too fast for the slope of the section.
I faded off the back just as Forrest was paddling out next to me, relishing his first successful ride of the morning on that beast of his. He kept commenting on the board being too big and impossible to ride given the conditions. As I paddled next to him we both looked west and saw a logger take off on a nice steep right, carving up and down it surprisingly well. Without much thought, I said, "See? He seems to be doing ok". I wasn't sure Forrest heard me so I repeated myself and he replied with a stern "F- you, Eddie."
I laughed my ass off for close to a minute.
I then caught a left where I was pumping too aggressively for the slope of the wave and ALMOST lost it. My weight was almost all on my front foot and I felt myself about to fall on my face. My back foot instinctively lifted off my board. I recovered awkwardly, pumped once, and smacked the approaching section. ...And I didn't make it...!
Another left came that was similar, but I fell back on my bad habit of attacking a wave too vertically when it itself is already too steep for that. The foam was rolling over and I cut my snap short. It probably looked pretty cool from the beach but I was nowhere close to making it.
About a half-hour later, I caught my last wave of the session. It didn't have much open-face, and I meekly went up onto the lip for one of my famous fall-down floaters. The lip detonated under me and I dropped down and onto my back.
I met Forrest at his pad in C-bad, transferred my gear into his Subaru and we shot up to Oside on the 101. We turned left on Cassidy, then right on the frontage road. Buc Beach looked surfable and my stoke-level rose quickly. Even lowly Oside Blvd showed signs of life!
We passed the lookout at the stop sign at Wisconsin Street and I was ready to suit up. We briefly debated checking Harbor but I was frothing too hard already. I transformed into Neoprene Man (4/3 suit, booties and 4mm gloves) and we got out there.
In our fervor, we realized we'd paddled out TOO far and right into the rip. Forrest was on his new log and wasn't amped on his board choice. The wind was strong from the northeast, blowing directly into the waves: a classic offshore day. Forrest's board had so much foam on it that it made it difficult to paddle into waves that steepened so quickly on a board with little rocker. The reminders about the board would continue throughout the session so keep that in mind...
After paddling in for some time and fighting the current, a nugget left came through. I caught it late (offshore) and dropped in cleanly. While setting my line after the initial take-off pump, I miscalculated where the lip would land and it decked me in the ribs just below my arm pit. I went flying down headfirst into the water and the ride was over.
Keep in mind that on south-facing beaches, the daybreak sun will wash out all rights as it hits its riders with full sun-to-the-face.
About ten minutes after my first wave I caught quite the right. The sun disoriented me and I leaned into a reflexive backside cutback to get it out of my eyes. I succeeded and, extending my body by unweighting my board, was able to smack it around to complete a solid backside roundhouse cutback. This is probably my best execution of that maneuver. YEOUH! (Onomatopoeic hoot transcription)
About a half-hour later, I caught another right and did some quick backside turns on it, though I blew my second one by going too far out on the shoulder and trying a turn too fast for the slope of the section.
I faded off the back just as Forrest was paddling out next to me, relishing his first successful ride of the morning on that beast of his. He kept commenting on the board being too big and impossible to ride given the conditions. As I paddled next to him we both looked west and saw a logger take off on a nice steep right, carving up and down it surprisingly well. Without much thought, I said, "See? He seems to be doing ok". I wasn't sure Forrest heard me so I repeated myself and he replied with a stern "F- you, Eddie."
I laughed my ass off for close to a minute.
I then caught a left where I was pumping too aggressively for the slope of the wave and ALMOST lost it. My weight was almost all on my front foot and I felt myself about to fall on my face. My back foot instinctively lifted off my board. I recovered awkwardly, pumped once, and smacked the approaching section. ...And I didn't make it...!
Another left came that was similar, but I fell back on my bad habit of attacking a wave too vertically when it itself is already too steep for that. The foam was rolling over and I cut my snap short. It probably looked pretty cool from the beach but I was nowhere close to making it.
About a half-hour later, I caught my last wave of the session. It didn't have much open-face, and I meekly went up onto the lip for one of my famous fall-down floaters. The lip detonated under me and I dropped down and onto my back.
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