4.11.18 PM Dropping Tide Playa Idaho

I calculated that at fifteen steps every ten seconds, and at ninety steps a minute, it takes me about twenty minutes to walk 1800 steps to Playa Colorado.  At 2.33' a stride extrapolated out to sixty minutes, I'm walking at about 2.38 miles per hour. 

You see, it's this bitchin content which keeps the hits coming to EddieSurfs.com!

As is tradition, I slightly got my hopes up when seeing and hearing the closeouts past the estuary (and an estuary it will stay until the rains make the rivers break out).  Playa Colorado itself was EMPTY.  This would have been unsurprising if you'd been there looking at it with me.  The best sets were racy to the point of being unmakeable and the average ones were close-outs.  I overcame my temptation to try to find a golden corner where conceivably none existed.

Playa Wyoming looked better, though still very racy.  After watching it for a couple of minutes and seeing dudes getting gobbled up by the whitewater, I resigned myself to having to resort to Panga Drops to get my surf jollies.  I walked slowly, eyes on the ocean.  I saw a guy take off on what looked like a disaster northwest of Playa Wyoming.  I muttered to myself, "Why even bother?".  He hung on, pigdogged and got a slight cover-up. 

That's it, I had to surf here.  It was the first made barrel, albeit slight, I'd seen in months.

The tide was dropping though the backwash was still hitting some of the waves.

A lot of paddling around and jockeying for position later, I was in position for an overhead banger.  I made the drop with no issue, and felt my face contort into panic as I pumped up hard, then down.  I tucked down slightly and I was enveloped in the squarish barrel (likely a product of the tide and the angle of the wave hitting the bottom in a weird way).  I did another pump in the tube, this one less ambitious.  It felt like I'd backdoored the section that initially enveloped me, then I made it through another section before the foamball worked me.  I surfaced energized.

I went on another wave after a guy farther up the line couldn't catch it.  I tucked in and this one didn't benefit from bathymetry/swell angle synergy.  I barely fit inside it and it tunneled off without me.

Little by little, guys started filing in to the beach much to my delight.  Then a panga showed up.  Guys in the panga were wearing t-shirts and there were fishing poles visible so I hoped they were fishermen.  But the fact that they were anchored off one of the premier waves of the area didn't bode well for my optimism. 

Sure enough one, then five boards were thrown overboard followed by their riders.  It got semi-crowded again.  It wasn't bad at all with them in the water, but the further dropping tide meant there would be fewer rideable waves from which to choose.

I caught a right and did a drawn-out bottom turn, smashed it in a tight arc but turned into the whitewash and lost stability with no fin bite in the water.  I also managed to punch myself in the side of the head with my thumb knuckle somehow as I was underwater.

The first wave described was a doozy and one that will get me amping for my next go-out.

Glucosamine saved me from Premature old-Man Syndrome (PoMS)

In 2004, my right knee started bugging it me. It slowly got progressively worse.  By 2009, I was in so much pain it was affecting me every time I sat down.  If I sat down with my knee at all bent, pressure would slowly build up and within five minutes I would be in excruciating pain.  I would then have to stop whatever I'm doing and violently kick it out.  If I did it correctly, my knee would crack (similar to the sound knuckles make when cracked) and the pressure would be immediately relieved.

You can imagine how distracting this got.  Desk work would be constantly interrupted.  Driving was uncomfortable and unsafe with me trying to extend my leg out to relieve at least some pressure until I was able to get out and kick.  Air travel was excruciating if I didn't get an aisle seat on the left side of the airplane so I could kick at will.

My clearest memory of one of my kicks was sitting next to my dad at The Beatles Love show in Vegas.  I was holding my knee at a 90-degree angle for most of the show.  About two-thirds of the way through I couldn't take it any more.  I slouched down and explosively high-kicked while in my seat.  I missed my dad's face by more than a foot, but he was surprised at how bad it had gotten that I HAD to do it so urgently.

I went to the doctor and he said the cartilage wear in my right knee was consistent with someone in his 50s.  I had fluid on the inside of my knee cap.  He put pressure on it with his finger and you could see it react.  He told me they could drain it but it would just fill up again.  They could operate but there was a ten percent chance I would be sidelined for a year or worse.

By chance, my uncle Tom and aunt Claudia came to Orange County from El Salvador.  She saw me kicking my knee out and asked me why I did it.  I explained what the doctor said, and told her I was going to get a second opinion.  She told me to try "Glucosamina".  I did some research on the internet and found out it was shellfish-based and it could help.  I invested ~$10 in a bottle of Costco's version.

I diligently took two pills a day and within a month, POOF!  The knee pain was almost completely gone.  It's definitely still there somewhat but I have 90% mobility.  I'm still scared to try weighted squats but other than the odd ache here and there I have no signs of the previous issues.

If you suffer from joint pain and are considering surgery, try Glucosamine.  You may get your life back.

8.25.2011 Oceanside Blvd, Fishing for Rank Surf

In my quest to complete this week's goals, I have been racking my mind as to how to best pull a 360.  I thought about buying another set of fins (grom-size, pathetic I know... ).  I also  though about taking out the two side fins on my Flyer and leaving the one trailing fin.  This would lead to a training wheel effect wherein I could add the two fins once I have them down pat.

Then I got the bright idea that I could just take my 5'6"x20"x~3" fish out.  It has four smaller fins and I should be able to pop those out of the water to spin.  I took the fish up to Oceanside along with my regular thruster, just in case there were some steeps out there.

I checked the pier and it was too fat out there.  Wisconsin looked promising, but Oceanside Blvd looked "best".  I'd never surfed here before and was looking forward to popping my Oside Blvd cherry.  It didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought and I only bled a little bit.

I passed a homeless guy sleeping on the sand and saw an elderly woman doing what looked to me like improvisational tai chi in the deck of her oceanfront home.

First wave I catch, I go left, stomp on the front foot as I'm easing up the face and sweep hard with my back foot, with most of my pressure on my toes, all while looking over my back shoulder.  I turned, the board didn't.  I was bummed.  I tried again and the same thing happened.  After that wave the board came out upside down and I looked at the tail.  I forgot how wide that thing was!  I tried one more time, but nothing happened.

After this series, I did a sick foam climb, which I probably could've landed if I'd shifted my weight to my front foot (I was going backwards in the foam for a tiny bit, so my front foot was effectively my back foot at the time).  I did do a nice little floater.

The highlight of the session was a massive three dozen strong volery of pelicans kamikaze-ing into the water (sometimes while twirling) and moving south to north along with what must have been a massive school of fish.  The closest they came to divebombing by me was a good ten yards away, though I did get circled and maddogged.  I also noticed that some seagulls were following them and squawking when they caught something.

When the pelicans had a water takeoff, their feet clap on top of the water making for a very comical sight.

Overall, not my favorite session, but it felt good to get out thar!  Forecast shows no sign of easing, though there is talk of a SW groundswell all over the coconut wireless.  We shall see...

8.16.2011 Wisconsin to Oceanside Pier, New Swell! EVENING SESH

AHH, that new swell smell!  Had a crazy sesh last night.

I met my buddy Forrest in Carlsbad and we drove up to Oside.  We checked the main spots and decided that Wisconsin looked best.  Since Forrest was on a longboard, I checked to make sure he was cool with surfing there, as it was dumpy and throwing pretty hard.  He said "You know me, bro.  I don't care."

We walked a ways up the beach as I assumed there would be a longshore current.  We ended up just south of our destination, catching some textured waves.  I caught one right and kicked out immediately.

On a S swell this steep, the lefts tend to be a lot better and I was trying to catch some rights just to battle the current.

Forrest went in and I went in to check on him.  Apparently he'd hit his head on the sand and he was making sure he was ok.  He told me to keep surfing and he'd join me in a bit.  I tried to time the sets but with this new, rising swell but got caught in a cleanup set.  One wave hit me so hard that it dazed me and made me unconsciously release my board.  It took me less than a second to regroup and I grabbed my board and kept paddling out.  That was the hardest a wave has hit me in more than a year.

The wind died down a bit and the water surface smoothed out.  We were drifting south with every subsequent wave.  I caught a small left, kicked out and had an excellent view of what is the hardest I've laughed in the water in almost a decade.  My buddy Forrest "caught" a left, immediately grabbed his rail and got hung up in the lip (Keep in mind he was on a longboard covered in pink wax).  He jumped clear and comically dropped a good six feet while his board basically tombstoned as the wave caught it, pink wax side up.  I started cackling and stopped to duckdive, somewhat concerned that his board might hit me.

We both came up and I was laughing so hard that it was hard for me to paddle.  Forrest was scrambling to regroup and a bigger wave was coming.  I yelled back to him "Bye Bye!" and I didn't see Forrest for another ten minutes as he got pounded and taken for a ride on the S swell express.

I caught a wave late and took a LATE drop, don't think it was quite an air drop though.  I gathered myself and pumped up and down the steep face, racing to beat the closeout.  I hit the lip/wash and ALMOST landed a FAST off-the-lip.  Forrest told me that if I hadn't pumped I could've gotten barreled. BUMMER!

Another late drop and a quick kick-out and we're down to Tyson Street, steadily floating towards the pier.

I declined a set wave as I saw two spongers that were in a better spot but then I caught a sweet one and did my patented fake punt down the line.

I made a pact with Forrest that we wouldn't get out until we were at the pier (it was getting dark).  He caught a wave immediately when we were about 150 yards away (standard)!  The lights for a vacation rental building came on, lighting up the waves a bit.  The pier lights came on shortly thereafter, giving the waves a stadium night-game atmosphere.  I caught one last wave, straightened out, and found Forrest splayed out waiting for me just south of the aforementioned vacation rental building.  We walked back to his car and laughed about this session.