3.15.2012 Oceanside, Tyson to Pier: Waves are UP!

This morning I woke up at 5:10 and couldn't go back to sleep. I decided to start my routine early. I grabbed my gear, but before I went out the door, I chugged down some orange juice. My hope was the Vitamin C would help cut down on my post-session nasal drip I seem to suffer through after surfing.

I grabbed my pick-me-up, a sparkling water bottle (as good as caffeine, at least for me), loaded up, and hit the freeway. The zip loc bag of almonds I keep in The Rad was violated, as I scarfed down a couple of handfuls as I sped up to keep up with the flow of pre-dawn traffic.

I downed my water, the faster I do it, the harder the CO2 hits me and wakes me up. I was there before first light. While driving I felt minor pangs that warned me a bowel movement would need to happen within a few hours. I made a mental note, if only to appease my innards.

I'd told my cousin Tom I'd call him today and so, taking advantage of his being on the east coast, did so. I drove from Pier to Harbor. The swell was too big for the Harbor's tide. I saw a barely-make-outable guy catch a bomb right, but he couldn't really do anything with it and felt I'd be mired in the same situation if I followed him out there. I weaved back south, found a free parking spot where I could check the waves and slowed. I parked once I saw some nice ones at Tyson Street. We kept chatting and I engaged inner-call-waiting, tuning my cousin out to assess the imminence of giving birth to last night's dinner/this morning's snack. I decided I had the equivalent of bowel contractions and hopped out of The Rad.

I made my way to Tyson Street, and hoped that the bathrooms were open (I'd subconsciously noted the Wisconsin Street bathrooms were closed). I got to the top of the stairs when I came across an unmistakeable scent: Bum Piss! Th prime suspect was on the top landing of the stairs and he turned around and said something I couldn't quite make out. I said, "Huh?" and he hit me back with a short phrase, equally unintelligible. I just said "Yeaeaeah!" and kept walking, my cousin Tommy still blaring on speaker phone the whole time.

The bathroom was open, YES! I sashayed around the corner and to my great dismay, I realized these were metal, prison-issue toilets with short walls and NO DOORS! Luckily, I had my cousin on loud speakerphone and he unknowingly ran interference for me while I stood and delivered (with apologies to my main man, Edward James Olmos).

It was only when he heard the universally recognizable, super powerful public toilet flushing sound that he knew what I was up to.

We hung up after I told him I had to go as enough light was up in which to surf.

I changed into my suit and booties. As I was jogging to the stairs I hooted as a set wave with a near-perfect A-frame detonated. A guy who was suiting up out of the back of his Prius saw my enthusiasm and said, "Did you see that?". I replied, "Yeah, I'm out thar!"

I made the mental error of not thinking about the swell direction. It's been so long since we've had a solid south, my mind assumed it was another Aleutian swell and I ran north to compensate for the inevitable longshore current. I paid for this mistake by paddling quite a ways against the current. My traps are still sore as I type this.

On to the surf...

My first wave was a quick right that closed out on me after allowing me space to do a tiny pump. Luckily, it made its intentions known quickly and I didn't have to pay too dear a positioning penalty.

The next wave was nice, and I want for my typical slash/snap. My ass dragged in the water and I recovered, but the wave had pretty much passed me by and I went off the back ever so slightly.

I watched as Prius guy caught a sick left and smacked it twice about as perfectly as possible. Right on the lip and vertically, making the spray fly up and over, aided by the offshores.

It took some time for my next wave to arrive and it wasn't much of anything. I thought I might find a corner of it but it turned into a closeout. I kicked my board up to avoid losing unnecessary ground.

I then caught a right that looked like it would be a good one. I pumped into a nice drawn-out bottom turn but the frame grabs reveal me compressing my body and my Joe Cool facial expression swiftly evolving into a grimace. I tried to jump through the wave, but I was too late. The lip smacked me HARD in the back of the head. It felt as though I'd been punched. I came up and paddled back out, not too stoked on life at the moment.

A guy in a Quiksilver wetsuit who'd been complaining about how cold he was to his buddy tried to intimidate me by back-paddling me, but I ignored him and kept paddling. He pulled back and I went...over the falls. He shot me a disgusted look and I smiled at him until he looked away.

I gave up and let the current have its way with me. Within ten minutes I was within spitting distance of the pier and I was getting over it.

I caught another right, this one an almost immediate closeout with no associated trauma.

My last wave was a right that I happened to snag due to the end of a steep corner. I did a nice turn and felt a little weightless, then went into my too-much-pressure-on-the-rail-for-the-speed cutty attempt, which failed.



I went in on my belly and managed to eat ish when the wave I was on doubled up. I didn't want to risk the board buckling or hitting bottom so I took the hit.

1.23.2012 Burly Oceanside Pier/Tyson Street with Forrest

On this morning, I woke up early to take my wife to the airport. The plan was to surf Del Mar, where the swell should be hitting well. Unfortunately, the plan didn't come to fruition so I was left to drive north and hope to score surf at a random spot that looked good from the road.

Time was tight because of the weather conditions. A dark storm was coming in from the NW and though we were enjoying offshore winds at the moment, once the storm moved in, they would most likely turn onshore.

Dog Beach Del Mar presented a view of a spinning right which made me want to park and surf. However, I thought about all of the runoff from the recent rain and it made me reconsider.

I called Forrest and he was into surfing. I suited up at his place and off we went.

We checked Cherry Street which was ok, then Tamarack which was not working. Terramar looked ok, but we wanted to get some juice out of this swell! We decided we didn't have much time before the winds would kill the conditions.

Cassidy and Buc Beach weren't getting much of this swell. Wisconsin looked rideable but the Pier showed a guy on a big left do a slash at the top of the wave. From our vantage point looking north, it looked like he was within a couple of feet of it. We were out THAR!

It took us a good fifteen minutes before we caught our first waves. Forrest was first. He caught a medium wave and exaggerated his Forrest flop out the back (I'd been talking to him that his best maneuver is his flop off the board when he kicks out). I felt a pang of jealousy, but it didn't last long. A nice-sized right came. I pumped down the face, but it closed out on me so I Fosbury flopped over it very smoothly. Not my favorite way to break my waveless cherry, but at least I had a wave under my belt.

The previous wave began my best run of waves in a short spurt of time in quite some time.

A left came, I caught it and popped up quickly. I did my patented pop-up/immediate pump. The section threatened to outrun me, but I made it around the corner. I was slowed down a bit by the wave's foam slapping my lower body; the result of the wave breaking a little faster than is ideal. I spotted the incoming right and set my line. I hit the wave, probably too late, and did my usual bail off the back rail. I think what I'm failing to do is keep my weight over the board. I was happy with my read on the wave and being able to make it around the section, though.



Three minutes later, my next wave arrived! It was a nice right. I turned hard off the bottom and managed to make what I am dubbing my best turn of the year. I went more vertical than I've gone backside in some time and I hit it late enough so that I got hung up on the lip. Unfortunately, I put too much weight on my next turn and my rail didn't have enough volume to accommodate the torque. If you pause the video at the right time, you will see I overburied the rail...



Two minutes later, I caught a left an did some pumps. The wave went flat as I was about to hit it, and my trajectory and result reflected that.



Six minutes after my last wave, I caught a right. I wanted to get vertical on it and I did so. I dropped all the way to the bottom, climbed to the top and as I was pivoting to snap, the wave flattened out. The high tide was making it difficult for the wave to feel the sand bottom's contour. There was just too much water and it was only going to get fatter as we neared the height of the high tide. I kicked out and waited for the next one.

Just two minutes after that disappointment, a left came. It was steep, but sectioned off so much it was unmakeable. I put all my weight on my back foot's toes and made the board squirrel out on the fins, but they didn't slide out all the way. I got under the lip and avoided the explosion.

And thus ended my four-wave run in an eleven minute span.

I caught a right that looked steeper than it was. I did a turn and the section flattened out. Looking for greener pastures, I decided to cut all the way back around to try to surf the wave as a left. I got all the way around, but the wave had shut down by the time I got there.

Another right came within five minutes and I was on it. I wanted to do pull out through the wave from the get-go, but I took my time in doing so and was punished by the wave's lip. The thing DETONATED on my board and smashed me off my board. I came up hurting and my back was sore for a few minutes thereafter.

After this wave, still stinging from the lip smash, I paddled for a wave. The stiff offshore blinded me and I got disoriented. I didn't realize how late it was until I was going over the falls with the lip. I managed to slow myself down a bit while getting the board out from in between my legs to avoid another, probably more painful, episode. I hadn't done THAT in a while! The good news is my face was now sore and it made me forget about my back.

Yet another right came and I did some flat turns. The waves were getting fatter and fatter, so when I saw Forrest walking up the beach, I waved him in from paddling back out.



We walked down to the pier to try our luck there. While walking, the rain started coming down. The wind was still mostly offshore, but now swirling a bit more. Conditions were slowly deteriorating and our time was running out.

I told Forrest I couldn't remember the last time I surfed in the rain in California and he couldn't remember the last time he did either.

I caught a left and did a nice smack/foam climb on it. I think it may be only the second frontside top turn I've pulled since I started filming with the Go Pro... Yikes.



I caught one last right and did my standard turn. I pumped around the section hoping for some goodness but there was none to be had.

I paddled back out and was having a hard time turning the camera off with my increasingly cold stiff fingers. This worked out as I was able to capture a bit of a beating my board and I took during a close-out clean-up set, the biggest wave I saw break out there in the 2+ hours we were out. The camera, which I'd worked so hard to tighten with a screwdriver at home, got readjusted in the tumult. The footage isn't too interesting, so I'll spare you, dear readers.

The conditions continued to deteriorate, so we went in.

1.4.2012 Maxing Oceanside with Forrest AND Missed-It Mike!

I had a beast of a time convincing Mike to surf with us this morning. He was under the impression it was going to be massive and didn't want to be undergunned. I convinced him it wouldn't be that big and I picked him up at 5:50.

We met Forrest at Tyson Street and, though most waves were closing out, we spied some with potential by the pier. Here is a short lifestyle shot of Mike, then Forrest:



We did our best to time the sets so we could paddle out without too much resistance and were relatively successful. Seeing as to how the swell was coming almost directly from the west (with a dusting of north to it), I didn’t think the longshore current would be an issue. It took only a couple of minutes to realize I was mistaken.

I tried to hold my position near the lined-up waves reeling off the pier, but I was also tempted by the potential entertainment to be had with the conversation Mike and Forrest were having. After close to ten minutes and a couple of pull-backs due to closeouts, the conversation won out. Forrest caught one first, but was stuck inside for some time due to the frequency and fervency of the closeouts.

I wandered inside for a bit, hoping to get lucky on a middler. Mike hung on outside. I told him he was in too deep (one of Mike’s favorite songs) and almost as quickly as I’d finished singing him the beginning of the chorus, a macker came and Mike caught it late. It was a solid seven-footer and his first wave of the year. I duckdived it and missed his wave, but he said it was a little fat and was able to fit one turn on it before deciding the juice from a second turn would not be worth the squeeze (getting crushed by the next wave).

After some goading by Forrest for having yet to have popped my cherry for the day, I took off on an obvious closeout. I kicked my board up and bailed, coming up just in time to take in Forrest’s second ride of the day, a double-grab smoker!



About ten minutes later, I caught a right REALLY late. It felt as though I’d airdropped into it and was rewarded with a great view of a big open barrel that not even Kelly could’ve made (though he would’ve made it look much better)



I caught another right which was an obvious closeout. I had a small corner in which to set up for the barrel, and dropped into it from a pretty good altitude on the wave. I was rewarded with a great view of the barrel and stayed in there for about two seconds before detonation. The footage only showed roiling water and so I will not bore you with just a set-up shot.

I caught a left which had potential, but by the time I dropped in and set up, it had passed me by. I lamely tried to get into the barrel but wasn’t even close. It felt a lot worse than the video looks, but regardless, it’s not worth showing…

My last wave had a great drop, but it closed out quickly. I proned out and rode into the beach, disappointed by both my wave count and lack of amazing rides, given the size of the waves.

I rode in to the beach and was amazed at how far south we'd drifted. We had to walk north quite a bit just to get to Wisconsin Street. Over a half-mile from where we'd paddled out!

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.

12.2.2011 Oceanside: Mostly Gutless Tyson Street with Forrest

This morning was a cold one and I arrived at Forrest's pad to suit up in his apartment. I hurriedly put my stuff in his Sub and, along the way up PCH, admired the smoothness of the ocean. The offshore breeze and good tide were both excellent indications that we would have a good session.

About three-fourths of the way there, we realized I'd left my board in my car. We doubled back and checked Tamarack on the way there and it was TINY. No one was out. We stopped back at my car, I grabbed my board and back up to Oside we went.

I transformed into Neoprene Man (only my head was unprotected) and paddled out a bit north of Tyson Street. Being the festive guy that he is, Forrest brought along his Santa hat to add some flair to the session.

We saw a couple of (relative) bombs. Clean, though a bit slow, three-footers. It took a solid fifteen minutes for me to catch my first wave. It was a left that I struggled to stay on. I silently wished for my fish.

Forrest caught a right and on his paddle back out, he told me he had to pump to stay on it. A couple more weak ones rolled through, one that couldn't carry me on its face even just belly-boarding it. I started to get frustrated. The water was really cold and I was freezing for this?!?

On top of that, the wind was offshore and the tide seemed right. If only some swell would come in and it would turn into a sick session!

More gutlessness whimpered in. Frustration levels grew.

It was at this point I suggested we become our alter egos: The OAG's (Overly Amped Guys).

From this point on, every ripple became a macker; every morsel became the wave of the day. This made the session a lot more fun as it created some competition as to could be the more amped between us. If you asked the other people surfing around us, though, they would've sworn it was a contest to see who could be more annoying.

About an hour into the session, some sets started rolling through. I caught a right and smacked it gently so as not to overdo it on fat sections, as I tend to do.

I kicked out and saw the rest of the set come in. It was starting to get close to decent!

A left came through about ten minutes later and I pumped a couple of times and did an off-the-lip with speed. Had I put more weight on my front foot, I would have had a nice finish (if you can call the only maneuver you complete on a wave a finish) to it. My back foot hogged my body weight and so I landed wrong and splayed out onto my back.

The wave of the day came through, a nice right that was maybe four feet high. Forrest decided it would be a good time to call "Party Wave!" and so I ended up eating his spray and bailing. Oh well.

We were both over it, so in we went.

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.