I had six sessions in six days, an EddieSurfs.com record! Thirteen sessions bring it a silver medal to January, still King with fourteen...!
Here is the spot breakdown for the month:
D Street 4
Avocado's 3
Pillbox 2
S. Jetty 1
Wisconsin 1
Harbor 1
Buc Beach 1
Interestingly, I surfed Oceanside four times at four different spots.
I will be out of town the first week or so of June, so the count will suffer. However, I am pleased to announce I will be travelling back to the motherland, El Salvador, the last week of the month. I will not be taking the Go Pro with me as I have grown fond of it and would prefer not to lose it to "the boys" down there.
"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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Thursday, May 31, 2012
5.31.2012 Another Go-Out at Pillbox! Shocking, I know...
After yesterday's session, you can't fault me for coming back for more. The reports were saying the same thing, so theoretically, the surf would be about the same (save for the tide being one hour different), right?
Sort of....
As I left my place, I noticed a wind in the trees. I kept going and noticed it wasn't as noticeable in the more coastal foliage. Then, when I finally saw the water, I noticed it was OFFSHORE! A good sign, but let's not get too amped.
Seaside looked smaller than yesterday. Uh oh. I parked and check Pillbox and it looked a shade smaller and more racy. Hmmm...
I decided to check Del Mar just in case it had something going. My four minute check at 20th showed two guys catching a wave each and struggling to stay on them. OVER IT!
I went back to Pillbox and suited up.
Thankfully, this paddle-out was much mellower, thought I was on my glorious DHD. That may have been the difference, as I was duckdiving like a madman.
My first wave was a left that took a couple of seconds to develop. It did so, and I went for a floater, but didn't jump off in time and ate it.
My next wave was a right that was fast. I caught it late, mini-pumped twice, then aborted as I just couldn't catch up.
Less than two minutes later, I caught another right I really had to paddle for and was so late on it, I didn't really catch it. It was a weird sideways floater
situation that I just faded on. It doesn't really count as a wave but was funny enough that I thought I'd include it. It would have been a good one!
Five minutes passed until I caught my next wave, a fast left that ended up closing out. I was semi-successful at high-jumping over the lip into the clear.
I'd been poring over my backside bottom turn footage and had decided to use a more vertical trajectory. Unfortunately, I did so on the wrong section of my next wave and faded off the back.
A right came that seemed to have promise. I caught it, but it flattened immediately. I kicked out while looking over my shoulder to see what, if anything, the horizon held in store for me.
My right streak came to an end when I caught a left. It allowed me one pump before making its close-out intentions known to me. I pulled through the lip into the clear out the back.
Another left came and I pulled short on the initial smack, as it lacked the oomph necessary for a kook like me to make it. I weathered the flat spot and found a section. Yet again, my body lurched backward upon impact but I managed to save it, though I did feel a tweak in my front knee. Here's the footage:
The wave faded a bit at the end, but I'm counting it!
Sort of....
As I left my place, I noticed a wind in the trees. I kept going and noticed it wasn't as noticeable in the more coastal foliage. Then, when I finally saw the water, I noticed it was OFFSHORE! A good sign, but let's not get too amped.
Seaside looked smaller than yesterday. Uh oh. I parked and check Pillbox and it looked a shade smaller and more racy. Hmmm...
I decided to check Del Mar just in case it had something going. My four minute check at 20th showed two guys catching a wave each and struggling to stay on them. OVER IT!
I went back to Pillbox and suited up.
Thankfully, this paddle-out was much mellower, thought I was on my glorious DHD. That may have been the difference, as I was duckdiving like a madman.
My first wave was a left that took a couple of seconds to develop. It did so, and I went for a floater, but didn't jump off in time and ate it.
My next wave was a right that was fast. I caught it late, mini-pumped twice, then aborted as I just couldn't catch up.
Less than two minutes later, I caught another right I really had to paddle for and was so late on it, I didn't really catch it. It was a weird sideways floater
situation that I just faded on. It doesn't really count as a wave but was funny enough that I thought I'd include it. It would have been a good one!
Five minutes passed until I caught my next wave, a fast left that ended up closing out. I was semi-successful at high-jumping over the lip into the clear.
I'd been poring over my backside bottom turn footage and had decided to use a more vertical trajectory. Unfortunately, I did so on the wrong section of my next wave and faded off the back.
A right came that seemed to have promise. I caught it, but it flattened immediately. I kicked out while looking over my shoulder to see what, if anything, the horizon held in store for me.
My right streak came to an end when I caught a left. It allowed me one pump before making its close-out intentions known to me. I pulled through the lip into the clear out the back.
Another left came and I pulled short on the initial smack, as it lacked the oomph necessary for a kook like me to make it. I weathered the flat spot and found a section. Yet again, my body lurched backward upon impact but I managed to save it, though I did feel a tweak in my front knee. Here's the footage:
The wave faded a bit at the end, but I'm counting it!
5.30.2012 A Tip leads me to a Virgin Spot...
While awaiting my buds' arrival for the Workaholics season premiere party I was hosting, I talked to my neighbor. He claimed he'd surfed Pillbox in Solana Beach that morning and it was shoulder high. I didn't really believe him, but I was intrigued.
I decided to head over there after checking the reports. All the sites I had checked were saying dismal things about the 1-2' waves. I packed the fish in the Rad for a second time in a row, a possible record, and headed to the 101.
Cardiff Reef was tiny, George's was flat, Seaside looked DECENT! I almost parked and paddled out but I had to check on Pillbox.
I parked in the lot and, sure enough, there were some sets rolling through. I can only imagine it's a bathymetry issue, as it doesn't face drastically different compared to neighboring spots to pull in more swell.
As I walked down the lifeguard access ramp, I reflected on the last time my toes had touched that sand. I realized it had been 4th of July weekend of 1996. The reason I remember is because we went to see the movie "Independence Day" and my uncle and cousin were there with us. It's the only time I've been to the beach with my uncle and the first of two times I've been with my cousin.
I reflected on all of the things that had transpired between then and now. It was almost half my life ago! The last time I'd been to this beach, I was prepubescent.
The initial paddle-out was BRUTAL. Because of the extreme width of the fish I was on, my paddling motion is shortened. It becomes more elbow joint/bicep-driven and less shoulder joint/deltoid-driven. While about two-thirds of the way out, my biceps were KILLING me. I pushed on and finally made it out, about two blocks south of the access ramp I'd walked down.
I caught a steep left and had tons of speed, perhaps breaking my all-time speed record on that board. I went for broke, pumping twice before angling off the lip for a sick floater and STOMPING it. Ooh baby.
I caught about five forgettable waves before I caught a nice right that I went for a snap (more lateral on this board, due to my fear of washing out the fins) and my front foot slipped off. Before I paddled out, I had made a concerted effort to comb the wax that had been melted and solidified on quite a few Santa Ana afternoons since it had been applied back in 2005.
I tried diving down to get some sand to coarsen the ancient wax job but was unsuccessful. Apparently, Pillbox is a deep water spot.
I was in the middle of a pack of three. The two other guys were buds. One was a goofyfoot who was absolutely RIPPING.
After catching waves of my own, I'd hooted or let my stoke be known to them on one of their waves in another way. All I got back was dead silence.
I spied a right, probably because I was sitting higher up in the water on my fish and sprint-paddled over there. The guys followed suit, possibly out of curiosity as I'd been relatively mellow in my paddle speed throughout their tenure. A gorgeous peak exposed its fangs and I jumped on its tongue, sliding down to the bottom, bottom turning carefully, going up the face to hit it. The first time I did so, I got the oh-so-satisfying feeling of hearing my spray hit the water behind the wave. I did it again, but there was no sound. I had plenty of speed, but when I went for my third hit, my front foot slipped off the deck and I was done.
As I was paddling out, I got a congrats on the wave from the regularfoot.
I went in about twenty minutes later, as the wind had come up and was making the waves a bit too textured for my tastes.
I decided to head over there after checking the reports. All the sites I had checked were saying dismal things about the 1-2' waves. I packed the fish in the Rad for a second time in a row, a possible record, and headed to the 101.
Cardiff Reef was tiny, George's was flat, Seaside looked DECENT! I almost parked and paddled out but I had to check on Pillbox.
I parked in the lot and, sure enough, there were some sets rolling through. I can only imagine it's a bathymetry issue, as it doesn't face drastically different compared to neighboring spots to pull in more swell.
As I walked down the lifeguard access ramp, I reflected on the last time my toes had touched that sand. I realized it had been 4th of July weekend of 1996. The reason I remember is because we went to see the movie "Independence Day" and my uncle and cousin were there with us. It's the only time I've been to the beach with my uncle and the first of two times I've been with my cousin.
I reflected on all of the things that had transpired between then and now. It was almost half my life ago! The last time I'd been to this beach, I was prepubescent.
The initial paddle-out was BRUTAL. Because of the extreme width of the fish I was on, my paddling motion is shortened. It becomes more elbow joint/bicep-driven and less shoulder joint/deltoid-driven. While about two-thirds of the way out, my biceps were KILLING me. I pushed on and finally made it out, about two blocks south of the access ramp I'd walked down.
I caught a steep left and had tons of speed, perhaps breaking my all-time speed record on that board. I went for broke, pumping twice before angling off the lip for a sick floater and STOMPING it. Ooh baby.
I caught about five forgettable waves before I caught a nice right that I went for a snap (more lateral on this board, due to my fear of washing out the fins) and my front foot slipped off. Before I paddled out, I had made a concerted effort to comb the wax that had been melted and solidified on quite a few Santa Ana afternoons since it had been applied back in 2005.
I tried diving down to get some sand to coarsen the ancient wax job but was unsuccessful. Apparently, Pillbox is a deep water spot.
I was in the middle of a pack of three. The two other guys were buds. One was a goofyfoot who was absolutely RIPPING.
After catching waves of my own, I'd hooted or let my stoke be known to them on one of their waves in another way. All I got back was dead silence.
I spied a right, probably because I was sitting higher up in the water on my fish and sprint-paddled over there. The guys followed suit, possibly out of curiosity as I'd been relatively mellow in my paddle speed throughout their tenure. A gorgeous peak exposed its fangs and I jumped on its tongue, sliding down to the bottom, bottom turning carefully, going up the face to hit it. The first time I did so, I got the oh-so-satisfying feeling of hearing my spray hit the water behind the wave. I did it again, but there was no sound. I had plenty of speed, but when I went for my third hit, my front foot slipped off the deck and I was done.
As I was paddling out, I got a congrats on the wave from the regularfoot.
I went in about twenty minutes later, as the wind had come up and was making the waves a bit too textured for my tastes.
5.26.2012 Yet another try at Avocado's with Mark PLUS Jason!
This session happened earlier than the others. The winds were tearing the sea apart, but the surf zone was somewhat salvaged by (what I imagine to be) the offshore kelp beds. Jason hadn't surfed in over a year and I commiserated with him on his feeling of rustiness, having not surfed in about half a week.
This time, I was better equipped. I had my 5'6" Balestar fish, one I hadn't paddled out on in NINE months! The thing is short, but it's the widest board I've ever ridden at about 21". It's also thick as a mofo!
My first wave was a doozy. I managed to snag a corner and was thrown onto the flats. I managed to make up for the board's lack of rocker by keeping my weight more towards the tail. When I went to hit it, though, I snapped and my tail ended up behind the wave, along with the left half of my body. Bummer. Had I stayed over my board, I could've wafted...!
I caught a right and bottom turned too steeply. My fins washed out and I splayed comically onto my back.
I caught a party wave with Mark and cheered him on as he went for his half-pump wave caress signature move. YEAH MARK!
I was able to do a small foam climb, but there was no treasure at the end of the rainbow, so I kicked out over the now flat wave.
My last memorable wave was a left I caught and was able to snap and throw some spray. My speed went into it completely and I awkwardly flopped onto my back.
We went in to sample Mark's Memorial Day BBQ. And it was good.
This time, I was better equipped. I had my 5'6" Balestar fish, one I hadn't paddled out on in NINE months! The thing is short, but it's the widest board I've ever ridden at about 21". It's also thick as a mofo!
My first wave was a doozy. I managed to snag a corner and was thrown onto the flats. I managed to make up for the board's lack of rocker by keeping my weight more towards the tail. When I went to hit it, though, I snapped and my tail ended up behind the wave, along with the left half of my body. Bummer. Had I stayed over my board, I could've wafted...!
I caught a right and bottom turned too steeply. My fins washed out and I splayed comically onto my back.
I caught a party wave with Mark and cheered him on as he went for his half-pump wave caress signature move. YEAH MARK!
I was able to do a small foam climb, but there was no treasure at the end of the rainbow, so I kicked out over the now flat wave.
My last memorable wave was a left I caught and was able to snap and throw some spray. My speed went into it completely and I awkwardly flopped onto my back.
We went in to sample Mark's Memorial Day BBQ. And it was good.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
5.19.2012 Another Go-Around at Avocado's with Mark EVENING SESH
Please pray for Mark. He has come down with acute surf fever: surfus stokeitis. The guy is amped!
We spied some rollers rolling over lazily from the cliff and were excited at the prospect of surfing better waves than last time.
As we were concluding paddling out, we saw dolphins jumping out of the water, then two surfacing while nuzzling. Very cool!
Not very long after completing the paddle-out, I caught a nice right that steepened up. I bashed it pretty well and got some speed from it. I even got hooted by some guy paddling out with his buddy. And I did what the cool guys do: Pretend I didn't notice.
About five minutes thereafter, I caught a left that had a little bit of steepness to it. I was able to reach the foam for the oncoming section. I SMASHED it, but didn't keep my weight over my board and was left behind. Had I weighted properly, I'm pretty sure I would've busted the fins out the back.
The rising tide was making its presence felt by teasing us with what looked to be steep waves, but they fizzled out. On one particularly tempting ride, I put too much pressure on my front foot and launched over the front of my board.
On another left, I started bottom turning, but aborted midway and tried to pump. The indecision threw me off my board on what looked like one of the better waves of the afternoon. Bummer.
Mark and I caught some party waves together, but nothing spectacular.
We spied some rollers rolling over lazily from the cliff and were excited at the prospect of surfing better waves than last time.
As we were concluding paddling out, we saw dolphins jumping out of the water, then two surfacing while nuzzling. Very cool!
Not very long after completing the paddle-out, I caught a nice right that steepened up. I bashed it pretty well and got some speed from it. I even got hooted by some guy paddling out with his buddy. And I did what the cool guys do: Pretend I didn't notice.
About five minutes thereafter, I caught a left that had a little bit of steepness to it. I was able to reach the foam for the oncoming section. I SMASHED it, but didn't keep my weight over my board and was left behind. Had I weighted properly, I'm pretty sure I would've busted the fins out the back.
The rising tide was making its presence felt by teasing us with what looked to be steep waves, but they fizzled out. On one particularly tempting ride, I put too much pressure on my front foot and launched over the front of my board.
On another left, I started bottom turning, but aborted midway and tried to pump. The indecision threw me off my board on what looked like one of the better waves of the afternoon. Bummer.
Mark and I caught some party waves together, but nothing spectacular.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
5.19.2012 North Wisconsin Street Shorebreak w/ Missed-It Mike!
This morning we met at Buc Beach, but it had a crowd to it. There were some sick ones to be had, but we'd be brawling for them. We took in the amazing stylings of the first RC surfer I've ever seen in person.
Mike claimed he'd caught a glimpse of better waves a couple of blocks to the north. We decided to take the short drive up there. The waves there held some promise, but there was nothing special.
I wanted to check Wisconsin's. The first go-around showed a certain je-ne-sais-qua, but nothing solid. We ended up doing The Strand loop so I could have a little more littoral time and we saw some decent shorebreak waves. We were out thar!
Shorebreaks are a lot of fun in that it's super consistent and the paddle-outs are short (though they can be brutish). They are where you will likely get the most waves per hour, though they will also be shorter than an average wave.
My first wave was one where I got a little too much help from the whitewash, recovered, but the wave had passed me by, so I kicked off.
The next wave was probably the best one I caught this morning. It was a steep, quick right that I had what is likely the longest bottom turn of the year on. On my way up the face, I put too much pressure on my front foot and burned off too much speed, smacked it, but I got left behind.
My next wave was a left, but I couldn't get around it.
Immediately, I caught a left, bailed into it when I saw it was closing out hard.
I tried my luck on a right, which fizzled right after takeoff.
A left came and a guy was on it up the line from me. I paddled for it and saw him get sectioned off. I made a quick calculation that he wasn't going to make it around and went. I got a nice little snap on my forehand and yelled, "YEEEAAAAHHH!". I paddle back out and Mike's quietly laughing his ass off. When I inquired as to why, he said it was because I burned that guy I'd seen paddling.
I looked for him but he had paddled away a bit, probably to get away from an a-hole like me. I didn't want to shout an apology to him, as those tend to sound insincere.
On the very next wave we paddled for, I told him to go and essentially gave him the way. When I told Mike I'd made it right, he said, "in YOUR mind you did"...
A big left came, the biggest I'd catch all day and I made the drop. When I finally recovered, I couldn't get around the wall of whitewater so I kicked off.
On my last wave, I split a peak with Mike and had it close on me.
We bailed not long thereafter.
Mike claimed he'd caught a glimpse of better waves a couple of blocks to the north. We decided to take the short drive up there. The waves there held some promise, but there was nothing special.
I wanted to check Wisconsin's. The first go-around showed a certain je-ne-sais-qua, but nothing solid. We ended up doing The Strand loop so I could have a little more littoral time and we saw some decent shorebreak waves. We were out thar!
Shorebreaks are a lot of fun in that it's super consistent and the paddle-outs are short (though they can be brutish). They are where you will likely get the most waves per hour, though they will also be shorter than an average wave.
My first wave was one where I got a little too much help from the whitewash, recovered, but the wave had passed me by, so I kicked off.
The next wave was probably the best one I caught this morning. It was a steep, quick right that I had what is likely the longest bottom turn of the year on. On my way up the face, I put too much pressure on my front foot and burned off too much speed, smacked it, but I got left behind.
My next wave was a left, but I couldn't get around it.
Immediately, I caught a left, bailed into it when I saw it was closing out hard.
I tried my luck on a right, which fizzled right after takeoff.
A left came and a guy was on it up the line from me. I paddled for it and saw him get sectioned off. I made a quick calculation that he wasn't going to make it around and went. I got a nice little snap on my forehand and yelled, "YEEEAAAAHHH!". I paddle back out and Mike's quietly laughing his ass off. When I inquired as to why, he said it was because I burned that guy I'd seen paddling.
I looked for him but he had paddled away a bit, probably to get away from an a-hole like me. I didn't want to shout an apology to him, as those tend to sound insincere.
On the very next wave we paddled for, I told him to go and essentially gave him the way. When I told Mike I'd made it right, he said, "in YOUR mind you did"...
A big left came, the biggest I'd catch all day and I made the drop. When I finally recovered, I couldn't get around the wall of whitewater so I kicked off.
On my last wave, I split a peak with Mike and had it close on me.
We bailed not long thereafter.
Friday, May 18, 2012
5.18.2012 Surprisingly Big D Street with Missed-It Mike
After yesterday's unfortunate waste of gas, checking from Wisconsin all the way to D, we weren't going to surf today. I spoke to Mike about a business idea last night and we happened to discuss surfing. One thing led to another and we met at 6:45 at D.
The waves were about twice the size I'd anticipated. The predicted south wind that had initially made me reticent was present and was affecting the shape of the waves. Still, with about head-high waves, we were good to go...!
The paddle-out was a nasty one. It would have been hard to pick a worse time during which to start the trek. The waves would not stop, and the wind had put a chop on the surface, making it difficult to maintain a steady trim. My left arm especially was screaming for me to take a break, but I wanted to snag one of these.
My first wave was a left that I caught on a steep corner. Unfortunately, I spent the entirety of the wave pumping, being teased that the wave would develop into at least one smashable section. The section never came and I was left with the surf equivalent of blue balls.
I caught a nice right in a great spot, pumped once and brought it around for a cutty. I put too much pressure on my front foot, however, and slid the fins out ever so slightly, scrubbing off most of my speed. Wave over.
A left came and it was a quick one. I made it around the first section and was in the pocket when I came down with a quick case of paralysis of analysis. I ended up doing nothing, unless you count kicking my board out and taking a lip to the side of the head something...
A couple of weeks ago, Mike said the next time I asked him to switch boards, he would do so. I begged Mike to switch boards with me, but he wasn't having it. He caught another wave and when he perched, I took my leash off, put it on my board, and asked again. He finally relented.
Here are a couple of Mike's waves on my board:
Listen for the good friend, hooting him on this one:
While Mike had my board, I was on his FireWire Dominator. This board has a lot less rocker than mine, but this means it goes that much harder. It's more buoyant, which makes you ride up higher in the wave (picture a finned skimboard), but disconnects you from the wave somewhat. I had a right I slashed and kept my speed to the inside.
Then I had a big left where I threw down a big bottom turn, but pussed out as the section in front threatened to fold over.
A big lull arrived. We sat through it, then decided to bail. The lull seemed to continue until we left.
In closing, Mike and I have this thing where I say he surfs better than me and he says I surf better than him. After viewing the evidence, I'd like to offer my apologies to Mike. You were right, bro.
The waves were about twice the size I'd anticipated. The predicted south wind that had initially made me reticent was present and was affecting the shape of the waves. Still, with about head-high waves, we were good to go...!
The paddle-out was a nasty one. It would have been hard to pick a worse time during which to start the trek. The waves would not stop, and the wind had put a chop on the surface, making it difficult to maintain a steady trim. My left arm especially was screaming for me to take a break, but I wanted to snag one of these.
My first wave was a left that I caught on a steep corner. Unfortunately, I spent the entirety of the wave pumping, being teased that the wave would develop into at least one smashable section. The section never came and I was left with the surf equivalent of blue balls.
I caught a nice right in a great spot, pumped once and brought it around for a cutty. I put too much pressure on my front foot, however, and slid the fins out ever so slightly, scrubbing off most of my speed. Wave over.
A left came and it was a quick one. I made it around the first section and was in the pocket when I came down with a quick case of paralysis of analysis. I ended up doing nothing, unless you count kicking my board out and taking a lip to the side of the head something...
A couple of weeks ago, Mike said the next time I asked him to switch boards, he would do so. I begged Mike to switch boards with me, but he wasn't having it. He caught another wave and when he perched, I took my leash off, put it on my board, and asked again. He finally relented.
Here are a couple of Mike's waves on my board:
Listen for the good friend, hooting him on this one:
While Mike had my board, I was on his FireWire Dominator. This board has a lot less rocker than mine, but this means it goes that much harder. It's more buoyant, which makes you ride up higher in the wave (picture a finned skimboard), but disconnects you from the wave somewhat. I had a right I slashed and kept my speed to the inside.
Then I had a big left where I threw down a big bottom turn, but pussed out as the section in front threatened to fold over.
A big lull arrived. We sat through it, then decided to bail. The lull seemed to continue until we left.
In closing, Mike and I have this thing where I say he surfs better than me and he says I surf better than him. After viewing the evidence, I'd like to offer my apologies to Mike. You were right, bro.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
5.16.2012 Navigating the Buc Beach Steeps with Missed-It Mike
WHA-WHA-WHAT?!?!?!
Surfing with Mike? In Oceanside?! ON A WORK DAY?!?!?!?!?
It's true!
I somehow convinced Mike to once again have faith in my swell swami ways and trust me that Oside would be good. I got him to meet me at six at Wisconsin Street.
While exiting I-5 on Mission, I noticed the Scuba flag was pointing towards the beach! The forecasts said there would be south winds. We were blessed with moderate offshores. Things were looking good!
The swell was there, but the tide was too high. You could see that with less water on the sand, there would be magic. Unfortunately for us, the tide was rising and we weren't going to be able to witness the show sans the onshore wind the afternoon would bring.
I tried to get him to paddle out and he wasn't having it. I thought we might be able to score some decent ones, maybe we'd have to do the Huntington Hop to connect to the inside, where it would get extremely racy. I suggested Buc Beach, which seems to do well on a high tide.
It was a little bit better, but not by much. We parked by the café and checked it for some time. Mike finally acquiesced, and we were out thar!
We walked down to the water with our gear and spied some sick ones to the south. One guy was going to town on them and I joked about ruining his day by saddling up right next to him. We paddled even farther south than where he was as there were some unridden gems we could have to ourselves. I figured, with the swell direction being so steep, we'd end up where he was anyways...
My first wave was the sickest drop I've taken all year. I caught it late, got hung up on the lip and managed to stomp it at the bottom. The drop was so forceful it bent the camera towards the stringer, which made footy useless. Apparently, I hooted myself after landing it, despite there not being any reward for the risk I undertook.
My next wave was a forgettable one that closed out on me.
I caught a nice right and turned a little more vertical on it than I'm used to. In looking at my past backside smack vids, I was bummed to see how diagonal my trajectory tends to be. I went a wee bit more vertical but was punished by turning a little too late and being left behind by the wave.
The wave of the day came and, as soon as I saw it, I got super pumped! I wheeled around and scratched hard for it. I popped up, then mini-pumped down the face. I spotted my target on the wave, bottom turned a little harder than I usually do, and did a carve/snap right in the sweet spot. I ALMOST pulled it, but threw an s-load of spray.
I'll have to work with the surf coach on this move...
One of my last waves was one that started out pretty fast, but lost its mojo towards the inside. I spotted Mike paddling back out, so I screwed around on it just for fun. I went for a no-speed air, which involved me Liu Kang-ing my board towards him. He claims I almost hit him but, given his victim mentality, I bet it wasn't very close. Here's the footage with some aftermath.
The crowd infestation got to the point where it was catastrophic to our prospects of catching some good ones. Mike had to go to work and I had to pick Raquel up at the airport. And so we did.
Surfing with Mike? In Oceanside?! ON A WORK DAY?!?!?!?!?
It's true!
I somehow convinced Mike to once again have faith in my swell swami ways and trust me that Oside would be good. I got him to meet me at six at Wisconsin Street.
While exiting I-5 on Mission, I noticed the Scuba flag was pointing towards the beach! The forecasts said there would be south winds. We were blessed with moderate offshores. Things were looking good!
The swell was there, but the tide was too high. You could see that with less water on the sand, there would be magic. Unfortunately for us, the tide was rising and we weren't going to be able to witness the show sans the onshore wind the afternoon would bring.
I tried to get him to paddle out and he wasn't having it. I thought we might be able to score some decent ones, maybe we'd have to do the Huntington Hop to connect to the inside, where it would get extremely racy. I suggested Buc Beach, which seems to do well on a high tide.
It was a little bit better, but not by much. We parked by the café and checked it for some time. Mike finally acquiesced, and we were out thar!
We walked down to the water with our gear and spied some sick ones to the south. One guy was going to town on them and I joked about ruining his day by saddling up right next to him. We paddled even farther south than where he was as there were some unridden gems we could have to ourselves. I figured, with the swell direction being so steep, we'd end up where he was anyways...
My first wave was the sickest drop I've taken all year. I caught it late, got hung up on the lip and managed to stomp it at the bottom. The drop was so forceful it bent the camera towards the stringer, which made footy useless. Apparently, I hooted myself after landing it, despite there not being any reward for the risk I undertook.
My next wave was a forgettable one that closed out on me.
I caught a nice right and turned a little more vertical on it than I'm used to. In looking at my past backside smack vids, I was bummed to see how diagonal my trajectory tends to be. I went a wee bit more vertical but was punished by turning a little too late and being left behind by the wave.
The wave of the day came and, as soon as I saw it, I got super pumped! I wheeled around and scratched hard for it. I popped up, then mini-pumped down the face. I spotted my target on the wave, bottom turned a little harder than I usually do, and did a carve/snap right in the sweet spot. I ALMOST pulled it, but threw an s-load of spray.
I'll have to work with the surf coach on this move...
One of my last waves was one that started out pretty fast, but lost its mojo towards the inside. I spotted Mike paddling back out, so I screwed around on it just for fun. I went for a no-speed air, which involved me Liu Kang-ing my board towards him. He claims I almost hit him but, given his victim mentality, I bet it wasn't very close. Here's the footage with some aftermath.
The crowd infestation got to the point where it was catastrophic to our prospects of catching some good ones. Mike had to go to work and I had to pick Raquel up at the airport. And so we did.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
5.12.2012 Groveling w/ Mark at High Tide Avocados Shorebreak
I'd seen a sick left break from the cliff and I was raring to go. I was informed by Mrs. Mark that it wouldn't be any good out there. She was right, for the VAST majority of the session.
The waves were gutless and were nearly impossible to catch and get open face on, unless you lucked into a double-up and were slingshotted towards an unbroken section.
The pattern consisted of paddling, popping up, and attempting to pump. There just wasn't any speed to be had and no steeps to create your own.
Mark was on a 6'6" and I asked him to switch boards. He said yes immediately (hear that, Mike?), much to my surprise. He was raring to try out the Go Pro. Here is his sickest wave:
I caught a "sick" left and even nailed a floater, with speed, before the wave was over me. This floater is a record-breaker in that I don't think I've landed a floater on that much foam. I will have to multiply out the dimensions to see if my fish still beats it though...
It was getting dark and cold, so we bailed...
The waves were gutless and were nearly impossible to catch and get open face on, unless you lucked into a double-up and were slingshotted towards an unbroken section.
The pattern consisted of paddling, popping up, and attempting to pump. There just wasn't any speed to be had and no steeps to create your own.
Mark was on a 6'6" and I asked him to switch boards. He said yes immediately (hear that, Mike?), much to my surprise. He was raring to try out the Go Pro. Here is his sickest wave:
I caught a "sick" left and even nailed a floater, with speed, before the wave was over me. This floater is a record-breaker in that I don't think I've landed a floater on that much foam. I will have to multiply out the dimensions to see if my fish still beats it though...
It was getting dark and cold, so we bailed...
Saturday, May 12, 2012
5.11.2012 THREE in a Row with Missed It Mike at D Street
We got there a little later on this day, but the waves were downright decent!
We paddled out just south of the stairs here the sandbar was.
I caught a left about five minutes thereafter. I pumped a few times and eyed the oncoming section. I hit it well, threw a lot of spray, but lost my hold on my fins and splayed out. While in the wash, I focused on keeping my feet on for as long as possible in the off chance that I'd be able to right myself. The chance never came and, had it not been for my will to live, I would have drowned.
There was another wave I caught that I raced to the shoulder and was doing a fair job of keeping up with it. I was cruising around the last section that prevented me from reaching open face when the lip crashed down just inside of my inside rail, upsetting my line and throwing me comically towards the shore.
AH...! The wave of the day...
I was sitting all alone on the outside when another left came. I paddled hard for it, thought for a second that I'd missed it, but dropped in. I built up speed by pumping through the too-steep sections and eyed a guy paddling out of the corner of my eye. The bastard, instead of trying to paddle inside of me or duckdiving like any decent human being, meekly attempts to make me aware of his presence (in the process, shattering my concentration) by letting out a whimper of a hoot.
I'm not going to say I would have made the high-speed cutty attempt in the too-fat section of the wave I was on, but I will say it pissed me off. Of course I didn't say anything, but I was fuming.
The SW wind turned straight south and it turned to sea to rags, so we were over it.
We paddled out just south of the stairs here the sandbar was.
I caught a left about five minutes thereafter. I pumped a few times and eyed the oncoming section. I hit it well, threw a lot of spray, but lost my hold on my fins and splayed out. While in the wash, I focused on keeping my feet on for as long as possible in the off chance that I'd be able to right myself. The chance never came and, had it not been for my will to live, I would have drowned.
There was another wave I caught that I raced to the shoulder and was doing a fair job of keeping up with it. I was cruising around the last section that prevented me from reaching open face when the lip crashed down just inside of my inside rail, upsetting my line and throwing me comically towards the shore.
AH...! The wave of the day...
I was sitting all alone on the outside when another left came. I paddled hard for it, thought for a second that I'd missed it, but dropped in. I built up speed by pumping through the too-steep sections and eyed a guy paddling out of the corner of my eye. The bastard, instead of trying to paddle inside of me or duckdiving like any decent human being, meekly attempts to make me aware of his presence (in the process, shattering my concentration) by letting out a whimper of a hoot.
I'm not going to say I would have made the high-speed cutty attempt in the too-fat section of the wave I was on, but I will say it pissed me off. Of course I didn't say anything, but I was fuming.
The SW wind turned straight south and it turned to sea to rags, so we were over it.
5.10.2012 Another D-Street Run w/ Missed It Mike
Well, after yesterday's short commute to surf with decent results, we decided to have another go at it. I thought we should at least check the shorebreak spot up north as it can go off with this angle a windswell. It sucked, so we shot down to D.
I knew the session wasn't going to be a solid one as I hit the water. My subconscious, cursory key-check routine, which had cleared close to a thousand times in a row without incident, yielded some bad news. I couldn't feel my key! I ran back to the car and figured I'd left it on the inside (closest to the car) bumper, then shut the back over it. I ran back to the waves and told Mike he may have to call Raquel to come get me once we were done.
Then, after my fourth false start with the Go Pro, it shut off on its own.... UH OH! I figured it had run out of juice after several sessions without recharging it. But there was also the remote chance its housing had failed and it'd been permeated. There was no need to worry, as the camera was bone dry.
Things turned around when I realized I'd had my key in the key pocket the whole time. The long portion of it happened to line up exactly right with the zipper and it threw me.
I couldn't get anything going on this session. The only thing that saved the session was my spotting a guy, once a boy, who strongly resembled Mike's arch nemesis SUPER SNAKE! A few years ago, Mike and I were surfing that exact spot when Mike took it upon himself to burn a grom out with his classmates for a Surf PE session. The kid turned to his friend, widened his eyes, and said, "WHOA! SUUUUPER SNAKE!".
As soon as Mike made it back to the outside, I related the story to him and he rewarded me with his Elvis impression, defending himself out of the corner of his mouth so the kid he burned wouldn't read his lips (don't know why else he would do this).
I don't know if that in fact was Super Snake, but the guy rips!
No waves jump out at me on this day, so I will wrap it up with this period.
I knew the session wasn't going to be a solid one as I hit the water. My subconscious, cursory key-check routine, which had cleared close to a thousand times in a row without incident, yielded some bad news. I couldn't feel my key! I ran back to the car and figured I'd left it on the inside (closest to the car) bumper, then shut the back over it. I ran back to the waves and told Mike he may have to call Raquel to come get me once we were done.
Then, after my fourth false start with the Go Pro, it shut off on its own.... UH OH! I figured it had run out of juice after several sessions without recharging it. But there was also the remote chance its housing had failed and it'd been permeated. There was no need to worry, as the camera was bone dry.
Things turned around when I realized I'd had my key in the key pocket the whole time. The long portion of it happened to line up exactly right with the zipper and it threw me.
I couldn't get anything going on this session. The only thing that saved the session was my spotting a guy, once a boy, who strongly resembled Mike's arch nemesis SUPER SNAKE! A few years ago, Mike and I were surfing that exact spot when Mike took it upon himself to burn a grom out with his classmates for a Surf PE session. The kid turned to his friend, widened his eyes, and said, "WHOA! SUUUUPER SNAKE!".
As soon as Mike made it back to the outside, I related the story to him and he rewarded me with his Elvis impression, defending himself out of the corner of his mouth so the kid he burned wouldn't read his lips (don't know why else he would do this).
I don't know if that in fact was Super Snake, but the guy rips!
No waves jump out at me on this day, so I will wrap it up with this period.
5.9.2012 Peaky D Street w/ Missed-It Mike!!!
WOW! It had been more than two months since the last time I surfed with someone. I'd seen a left that had "left" (*SNORT*) me salivating on Coastal Push and I had made up my mind that I would at least give it a thorough check.
The waves looked a bit sloppy and stormy. Because of the direction of the swell, the majority of the SSW swell was passing us by. I was a bit tired of driving up to Oside and surfing alone. There was enough juice to entice both Mike and me to paddle out. Mike was indifferent as usual, but I was able go goad him out thar.
We spent the majority of in-between wave time on our imitations of Topher and what an amazing episode he was in.
The session didn't start out so great. The NW windswell was making its presence known with a whimper. The good thing about windswell waves is the consistency, they keep on coming! Usually, they are weaker than proper groundswell waves and, as a result, tend to be poorer in quality.
About twenty minutes after we paddled out, I saw a nice left approach. I pushed down the button on the Go Pro, but apparently, didn't do it for long enough. I popped up, then quickly realized I had to wait out the flatness. I managed to do so, pumped hard in the critical section of the wave, and felt the speed. I levitated onto the following lip for my longest floater of the year, landed a little bit awkwardly, and kicked out into the flats, as the wave had fizzled.
I caught a right that I was bottom-turning hard on (maybe that could use an extra space), but hit a chop on the top of the wave, rendering me and my trajectory GUTLESS.
Mike had to bail so I did the bro thing and walked with him.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
5.8.2012 Oceanside S. Jetty, Better Waves, But...
"OOH BABY...", I exclaimed upon seeing a set break in the midst of the lowest of low tides. I was still commiserating with myself about yesterday's session. This had major potential in turning yesterday's frown upside down.
I slowly made my way down the sharp rocks and waded through the river to get to the waves. I paddled out south of the pack, but eventually floated north close to them. The waves were there, but I wasn't on them.
Finally, about fifteen minutes of lusting after others' rides, I spotted one of my own. I paddled hard, and when I felt I wasn't making it, slammed all of my weight on to the front of my board. I did get to the I-caught-it,-time-to-stand-up feeling, but by the time I did, the wave had closed out on me. The foam behind me wasn't going to let me back off the wave, so I threw myself over the falls to avoid losing ground as much as possible. Grrr.... Frustrating.
I then caught a right which held promise, but my right hand slipped off its spot on my board as I was popping up. In the footy, I see myself quickly recovering, then grimacing as I eat it, kook-style.
If anyone was paying attention, they would have been making mental notes to burn the kook with the Go Pro camera on his board on the next set wave.
AH! A nice-sized right came and I was on it. After a mellow drop, I b-turned towards the lip, then harnessed the slope of the wave and compressed my body into a backside cutback. Alas, I made the mistake of going for an EXTREMELY weak bash without first assessing the wave. At about the seven-second mark in the video, you can see me prematurely disengaging my fins. I SHOULD have been keeping the pressure on and gone for a sick roundhouse cutty but kooked out YET AGAIN!!!!
I caught a left that was a fast one. I dropped halfway down the face and started pumping, extending my legs down so as to create the piston action which creates speed. Unfortunately, I hadn't fully set my rail, and I got air underneath my board. If you know anything about physics, you know that pushing down against air tends to make you sink. I failed to upend the laws of the universe and found myself kissing the bottom of the other side of the wave.
When I surfaced, a guy who was inside of me said that I needed to have been going about fifteen miles per hour to make the section, maybe with a tow-in, so that made me feel a little better.
The waves were good this day, but I was not...
I slowly made my way down the sharp rocks and waded through the river to get to the waves. I paddled out south of the pack, but eventually floated north close to them. The waves were there, but I wasn't on them.
Finally, about fifteen minutes of lusting after others' rides, I spotted one of my own. I paddled hard, and when I felt I wasn't making it, slammed all of my weight on to the front of my board. I did get to the I-caught-it,-time-to-stand-up feeling, but by the time I did, the wave had closed out on me. The foam behind me wasn't going to let me back off the wave, so I threw myself over the falls to avoid losing ground as much as possible. Grrr.... Frustrating.
I then caught a right which held promise, but my right hand slipped off its spot on my board as I was popping up. In the footy, I see myself quickly recovering, then grimacing as I eat it, kook-style.
If anyone was paying attention, they would have been making mental notes to burn the kook with the Go Pro camera on his board on the next set wave.
AH! A nice-sized right came and I was on it. After a mellow drop, I b-turned towards the lip, then harnessed the slope of the wave and compressed my body into a backside cutback. Alas, I made the mistake of going for an EXTREMELY weak bash without first assessing the wave. At about the seven-second mark in the video, you can see me prematurely disengaging my fins. I SHOULD have been keeping the pressure on and gone for a sick roundhouse cutty but kooked out YET AGAIN!!!!
I caught a left that was a fast one. I dropped halfway down the face and started pumping, extending my legs down so as to create the piston action which creates speed. Unfortunately, I hadn't fully set my rail, and I got air underneath my board. If you know anything about physics, you know that pushing down against air tends to make you sink. I failed to upend the laws of the universe and found myself kissing the bottom of the other side of the wave.
When I surfaced, a guy who was inside of me said that I needed to have been going about fifteen miles per hour to make the section, maybe with a tow-in, so that made me feel a little better.
The waves were good this day, but I was not...
5.7.2012 Oceanside Harbor Nothingness
Another week or so break in between sessions, and I was raring to get wet. My first glance of the water at the end of Mission Avenue revealed something I hadn't witnessed in months: "decent" waves! I excitedly checked Tyson and, farther south, Wisconsin. I realized I would be surfing today. The tide was recovering from a low extreme and I felt Harbor would be worth a check as the tide was still so low.
I U-Turned and sling-shotted up there, found something I liked, and parked. While walking, I spotted a sweet, steep A-frame fold over and made the fateful decision to stick with Condors, pretty much in the middle of Harbor, on a sandbar I've been fancying for quite some time.
I paddled out and took in the relative emptiness of the line-up. As the session progressed, it become apparent as to why I was so poorly accompanied. The waves would jack up, then either close out or not break.
I didn't catch ANY waves of note and went in after about seventy minutes with no worthwhile footy to show for it.
Luckily, I had the right mindset and was just happy to be back in the water.
On my way home, I checked Wisconsin and realized I'd made a mistake surfing where I'd done so. Then I reached a new realization: ANYwhere was better than where I'd surfed. Oh well, tomorrow would be another day...!
I U-Turned and sling-shotted up there, found something I liked, and parked. While walking, I spotted a sweet, steep A-frame fold over and made the fateful decision to stick with Condors, pretty much in the middle of Harbor, on a sandbar I've been fancying for quite some time.
I paddled out and took in the relative emptiness of the line-up. As the session progressed, it become apparent as to why I was so poorly accompanied. The waves would jack up, then either close out or not break.
I didn't catch ANY waves of note and went in after about seventy minutes with no worthwhile footy to show for it.
Luckily, I had the right mindset and was just happy to be back in the water.
On my way home, I checked Wisconsin and realized I'd made a mistake surfing where I'd done so. Then I reached a new realization: ANYwhere was better than where I'd surfed. Oh well, tomorrow would be another day...!
Monday, April 30, 2012
April Wrap-Up
Decent. Not terrible, not great. A real ho-hummer of a surf month...
Oceanside Harbor had the most surfs, the rest of the contenders are as follows.
Oceanside Harbor: 3
Oceanside Jetty: 1
Buc Beach: 1
Cherry Street: 1
Grandview: 1
Wave of the month (if you can call it that) goes to my rail bury wave on the last session of the month. There were no nasty wipeouts that I can recall, so I will skip that one.
Oceanside Harbor had the most surfs, the rest of the contenders are as follows.
Oceanside Harbor: 3
Oceanside Jetty: 1
Buc Beach: 1
Cherry Street: 1
Grandview: 1
Wave of the month (if you can call it that) goes to my rail bury wave on the last session of the month. There were no nasty wipeouts that I can recall, so I will skip that one.
4.28.2012 Peaky Oceanside Harbor on a Crowded Saturday
After nearly two weeks of not getting wet, I forsook my rule of waiting 48 hours after the last rain to surf. I was sick of waiting so I shot up to Oside on the first combo swell day that wasn't marred by bad winds or tides in a LONG time.
The waves looked good, and for the first time in a while, I got a surf boner on the way to the waves.
Harbor looked almost as good as I'd ever seen it. Unfortunately, it had the crowd to show for it. Who cares, I was ON IT!
I suited up and walked out to close to the middle of Harbor, lining up with the tall condo complex that is next to the freeway.
I immediately caught my first wave in ten days and it was a doozy. I pumped a couple of times, then laid into what was initially planned as a roundhouse cutty but turned into a rail bury cutty, followed by more pumping and then a smack. I don't recall what happened on the smack, but it was a no-make.
I caught a right about five minutes later which was fast. I made it around the initial section after some maneuvering, but there was no prize, it fattened up and I kicked the board up and sank underneath it.
The crowd was making things difficult. I was spoiled by quite a few sessions of not having to deal with crowds, just worrying about waves and their consistency. The waves were coming, but people tended to be on them.
About ten minutes later I caught a left and didn't have anything going on it. I kicked my board up and out and sank underneath again.
I was paddling back out when a guy asked me about my camera. I was telling him it works great, though the fish-eye lens tends to flatten curves, minimizing wave heights and messing with the viewers' perspective. A set wave came and a guy who should've caught it in front of me, didn't. I wheeled around and did my first two-paddle takeoff since Panama. It was an overhead wave (first one in probably three months)! I made the drop, but I cut too quickly towards the shoulder, leaving me in position for a cutty. I did an ok cutty on it and came back around, but the wave was done.
These are the only waves I can remember. No barrels, despite the low tide. If this had been a Monday, I would have had many more waves to report.
The waves looked good, and for the first time in a while, I got a surf boner on the way to the waves.
Harbor looked almost as good as I'd ever seen it. Unfortunately, it had the crowd to show for it. Who cares, I was ON IT!
I suited up and walked out to close to the middle of Harbor, lining up with the tall condo complex that is next to the freeway.
I immediately caught my first wave in ten days and it was a doozy. I pumped a couple of times, then laid into what was initially planned as a roundhouse cutty but turned into a rail bury cutty, followed by more pumping and then a smack. I don't recall what happened on the smack, but it was a no-make.
I caught a right about five minutes later which was fast. I made it around the initial section after some maneuvering, but there was no prize, it fattened up and I kicked the board up and sank underneath it.
The crowd was making things difficult. I was spoiled by quite a few sessions of not having to deal with crowds, just worrying about waves and their consistency. The waves were coming, but people tended to be on them.
About ten minutes later I caught a left and didn't have anything going on it. I kicked my board up and out and sank underneath again.
I was paddling back out when a guy asked me about my camera. I was telling him it works great, though the fish-eye lens tends to flatten curves, minimizing wave heights and messing with the viewers' perspective. A set wave came and a guy who should've caught it in front of me, didn't. I wheeled around and did my first two-paddle takeoff since Panama. It was an overhead wave (first one in probably three months)! I made the drop, but I cut too quickly towards the shoulder, leaving me in position for a cutty. I did an ok cutty on it and came back around, but the wave was done.
These are the only waves I can remember. No barrels, despite the low tide. If this had been a Monday, I would have had many more waves to report.
4.18.2012 Grandview Goodness? EVENING SESH
I'd flirted with the idea of starting up on my evening seshes again, especially since the morning sessions have been less than stellar.
Today, I pulled the trigger and headed straight to Ponto, as it'd looked so good yesterday afternoon.
No dice. It was choppy, crowded and there was nothing to be excited about wave-wise.
I checked Grandview and it had a nice left that turned almost too rippable (i.e. it got extremely racy on the edge of closing out).
There was a pack out there but I didn't care. I was out there.
I'd brought my 5'11" Epoxy Merrick as my glorious DHD had a case of the curing SunRez. I hadn't surfed this board since the previous summer, maybe longer, and was looking forward to being on it again.
As I was pulling my wetsuit up to my shoulders, a guy was walking back to his car and said, "Trying to squeeze in one more half-hour, huh?". I replied, "Yep!".
I bounded down the stairs and jumped on my board to start paddling. I didn't leash up as the tide was so high and the beach was so rocky, I figured I'd do it once I saddled up.
Immediately, the board felt SO small. I found my paddling sweet spot on it and swung away. My timing couldn't have been worse. A five-wave set bore (lol) down on me and I was on duckdive duty. By the fourth and fifth duckdive, I was really feeling it in my arms.
I saddled up a bit of inside of the crew, hoping to pick off a couple of nuggets.
I paddled for over ten waves and missed all of them. The vast majority of them wouldn't let me in, though a couple had steepened to the point of having to go over the falls unless I pulled back.
FINALLY, I caught a left that let me in, but all I could do on it was shuffle up and soul arch. WEAK!
The sun had submerged beneath the offshore fog and I was losing hope that this session would be worthwhile.
I caught another wave late, descending on the foam. I call this the floater takeoff. I laughed as I went down the wave and my fins struggled to find solid water in which to hold.
I decided to call it right then and bailed.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
4.18.2012 Cherry Street Foggy Shorebreak Sesh
On this morning, I was itching to surf, and had guessed it would be decent based on buoy readings and web forecasts. I did my usual Oceanside lap and found nothing of inspiration. I decided to cruise down the 101 just in case something might be working. I parked north of Tamarack and South of Cherry Street, decared (deplaned from a car), hopped up on a picnic table and spotted some marginal possibilities. About three minutes of standing there led me to go back to my car and think things over.
It was tiny, but it was empty and I was leaning towards going. I saw a two wave set detonate (not really) and peel nicely across the sandbar. Ok, I was out there.
I bounded down the stairs after suiting up and paddled out to inside the bombie. The bombie would crash over, but the reform was too slow. I went inside a bit more so I would not sit there for ninety minutes waiting.
I love shorebreak surfing. The waves, though even shorter than your average ten-second California ride, are more consistent, are punchier and tend to be much steeper. It's hard to get bored in the shorebreak. Because of the brevity of the waves in the shorebreak, your surfing tends to be more on point. There is little time for filler moves or set-up turns. This also makes it much more difficult to film with the GoPro, though, as you have much less time to judge whether a wave will be doable. This, compounded by the prep time of about three seconds or so of pushing the record button, can make you miss catching the waves as well as miss catching the waves on film.
My first wave is an example of the latter. I caught a left, pumped once and did a nice off-the-lip. And I PULLED IT. Of course, no video proof means the skeptics shall remain rabid. I caught a right that allowed me one pump and one turn, but closed out hard on the inside with me on its crest, my board parallel to its lip. My fins washed out on the lip. I didn't want to risk blowing out an ankle or knee on such a low probability maneuver, so I kicked my board in while I flailed back.
A nugget came through and I initially thought I'd pump on it to try for an air, but it made its intentions with me clear quickly. I got into my contortionist barrel stance (watch how I fold my trailing arm up). I got pinched, but was excited for a little tunnel vision.
I caught another left, which closed out shortly after takeoff. I caught a right and it did its best impression of my previous wave, only in the other direction.
My final wave was a right on which I did a slash, which turned into a quick backside cutty into the approaching section on the left. It felt pretty cool even though I had no speed. The footage is not worth posting.
It is rare to have a session all to myself in SoCal, but this was one of those gems.
I bounded down the stairs after suiting up and paddled out to inside the bombie. The bombie would crash over, but the reform was too slow. I went inside a bit more so I would not sit there for ninety minutes waiting.
I love shorebreak surfing. The waves, though even shorter than your average ten-second California ride, are more consistent, are punchier and tend to be much steeper. It's hard to get bored in the shorebreak. Because of the brevity of the waves in the shorebreak, your surfing tends to be more on point. There is little time for filler moves or set-up turns. This also makes it much more difficult to film with the GoPro, though, as you have much less time to judge whether a wave will be doable. This, compounded by the prep time of about three seconds or so of pushing the record button, can make you miss catching the waves as well as miss catching the waves on film.
My first wave is an example of the latter. I caught a left, pumped once and did a nice off-the-lip. And I PULLED IT. Of course, no video proof means the skeptics shall remain rabid. I caught a right that allowed me one pump and one turn, but closed out hard on the inside with me on its crest, my board parallel to its lip. My fins washed out on the lip. I didn't want to risk blowing out an ankle or knee on such a low probability maneuver, so I kicked my board in while I flailed back.
A nugget came through and I initially thought I'd pump on it to try for an air, but it made its intentions with me clear quickly. I got into my contortionist barrel stance (watch how I fold my trailing arm up). I got pinched, but was excited for a little tunnel vision.
I caught another left, which closed out shortly after takeoff. I caught a right and it did its best impression of my previous wave, only in the other direction.
My final wave was a right on which I did a slash, which turned into a quick backside cutty into the approaching section on the left. It felt pretty cool even though I had no speed. The footage is not worth posting.
It is rare to have a session all to myself in SoCal, but this was one of those gems.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
4.17.2012 High Tide in Oside ïïï100TH POST!!!
I need to take care of some business, since this is my 100th post on this blog.
First, a big FU to all the haters. Yeah, you know who you are. (Editor's Note: There aren't any haters that I'm aware of as I'm convinced very few people besides me read this)
Oh, I almost forgot, a big FU to OPEC and their "tensions in the Middle East may cause oil production problems in the future" excuse for raising gas prices to the mid $4 level about six weeks ago. It's come down to the lower $4 range now, but still!
On to today's session...
I blew it by not getting up as early as I should have. The high tide, which has been the kiss of death for quality sessions in the morning, was peaking just before eight o'clock, which meant I had to get out there at sunrise to have any shot at quality waves from this swell. I didn't get to Oside until about 6:40.
I gave Pier a polite glance. It stayed true to recent form and produced nothing but shorebreak, unless you count some fat rollers on the "outside".
I was really jonesing today so it was going to take some really dismal conditions to make me drive back with dry hair.
A guy out there on a red airbrush board was tearing apart the left that forms off the jetty. It looked downright decent. I U-turned, parked and suited up.
A guy named Larry was parked a few spots down from me. I recognized his van from sessions of yore by its haphazard sticker placement. He told me about surfing a spot off Barking Sands, which I recognized as a military base on the westside of Kaua'i. He said he saw Laird Hamilton out there. I was going to break into my I-almost-got-run-over-by-Laird-Hamilton-at-Outside-Hanalei but couldn't find a break in the chatter.
I finished suiting up and paddled out, after much consternation, in front of the condo building. The good news was the water surface was smooth, the crowds were relatively light and the sun was out. The bad news was the waves were inconsistent, mostly small and fat.
I caught a wave within eight minutes of paddling out. I got up late, saw that it was closing out, and didn't bother to descend the wave. I kicked the board in front of me and let the wave wash over me.
Bad timing. No, I didn't get throttled by a monster set. My faith was instead tested by a three-stage development of ice cream headaches, each wave of the set making the pain progressively worse.
It made me think, what is a bigger stoke killer than ice cream headaches (barring major injuries)? I decided belly rash is the biggest stoke killer I've experienced. I've gone in during amazing waves because of belly rash, but not for any other reason (other than work appointments, so one could argue that's a big stoke killer too).
I caught another left and this one had more of a line to it. I decided to make a drawn-out bottom turn to have a better look at the crashing lip but chose the wrong wave. The section I'd been eyeing crashed about a second too quickly and I didn't react quickly enough to turn a lip bash into a foam climb. Bummer.
I caught a little right that I got some speed on. I went for a lip bash and semi-succeeded. I climbed up a bit and the wave batted me down. I rode away clean, but I will get no calls from the surf scouts on this wave...!
I caught another left which fattened as soon as I popped up. I did what I consider the sickest soul arch (longboard move) of my life, even incorporating my arms while looking up at the sky. I did get some pumping in, but it was for naught.
I was paddling about twenty feet parallel to a logger, though a bit inside of him. He missed the wave, so he called me into it. I couldn't catch it either though. It looked like it might have had a solid smacking section but I guess I'll never know for sure.
The waves got fatter and fatter and my stoke was inversely affected. I went in, desuited and hit the road.
First, a big FU to all the haters. Yeah, you know who you are. (Editor's Note: There aren't any haters that I'm aware of as I'm convinced very few people besides me read this)
Oh, I almost forgot, a big FU to OPEC and their "tensions in the Middle East may cause oil production problems in the future" excuse for raising gas prices to the mid $4 level about six weeks ago. It's come down to the lower $4 range now, but still!
On to today's session...
I blew it by not getting up as early as I should have. The high tide, which has been the kiss of death for quality sessions in the morning, was peaking just before eight o'clock, which meant I had to get out there at sunrise to have any shot at quality waves from this swell. I didn't get to Oside until about 6:40.
I gave Pier a polite glance. It stayed true to recent form and produced nothing but shorebreak, unless you count some fat rollers on the "outside".
I was really jonesing today so it was going to take some really dismal conditions to make me drive back with dry hair.
A guy out there on a red airbrush board was tearing apart the left that forms off the jetty. It looked downright decent. I U-turned, parked and suited up.
A guy named Larry was parked a few spots down from me. I recognized his van from sessions of yore by its haphazard sticker placement. He told me about surfing a spot off Barking Sands, which I recognized as a military base on the westside of Kaua'i. He said he saw Laird Hamilton out there. I was going to break into my I-almost-got-run-over-by-Laird-Hamilton-at-Outside-Hanalei but couldn't find a break in the chatter.
I finished suiting up and paddled out, after much consternation, in front of the condo building. The good news was the water surface was smooth, the crowds were relatively light and the sun was out. The bad news was the waves were inconsistent, mostly small and fat.
I caught a wave within eight minutes of paddling out. I got up late, saw that it was closing out, and didn't bother to descend the wave. I kicked the board in front of me and let the wave wash over me.
Bad timing. No, I didn't get throttled by a monster set. My faith was instead tested by a three-stage development of ice cream headaches, each wave of the set making the pain progressively worse.
It made me think, what is a bigger stoke killer than ice cream headaches (barring major injuries)? I decided belly rash is the biggest stoke killer I've experienced. I've gone in during amazing waves because of belly rash, but not for any other reason (other than work appointments, so one could argue that's a big stoke killer too).
I caught another left and this one had more of a line to it. I decided to make a drawn-out bottom turn to have a better look at the crashing lip but chose the wrong wave. The section I'd been eyeing crashed about a second too quickly and I didn't react quickly enough to turn a lip bash into a foam climb. Bummer.
I caught a little right that I got some speed on. I went for a lip bash and semi-succeeded. I climbed up a bit and the wave batted me down. I rode away clean, but I will get no calls from the surf scouts on this wave...!
I caught another left which fattened as soon as I popped up. I did what I consider the sickest soul arch (longboard move) of my life, even incorporating my arms while looking up at the sky. I did get some pumping in, but it was for naught.
I was paddling about twenty feet parallel to a logger, though a bit inside of him. He missed the wave, so he called me into it. I couldn't catch it either though. It looked like it might have had a solid smacking section but I guess I'll never know for sure.
The waves got fatter and fatter and my stoke was inversely affected. I went in, desuited and hit the road.
Monday, April 9, 2012
4.9.2012 Another Solo Mish to Oceanside Harbor
Everything seemed to be lining up perfectly for a great session this morning. The swell had a dominant SSW angle and a bit of NW cross, which could mean peaky and consistent conditions. The wind was going to be calm, which at Oceanside Harbor means offshore, thanks to the funneling action of the Route 76 valley to the east.
I timed it well, arriving about twenty minutes after the bottom of the low tide. My thinking was I would be suiting up in time for the walled-up faces to be opened up by the incoming push of the eventual high tide.
I barely glanced at Pier once I dead-ended after traveling west on Mission. I knew the low tide would turn any waves into late-breaking close-outs. My presumption was correct, and I didn't give it a second glance.
Harbor didn't look great, but it had some promise, especially knowing that it would only improve with the tide push.
I parked in the free lot and suited up. I walked to the edge of the jetty and surveyed both sides, electing to take the north end as it seemed more consistent.
I paddled out and sat. Then sat some more. Twenty minutes passed before I caught my first wave. My introduction to the session wasn't great, after the right finally let me in, it let me pump once before it closed out. I did do a cool sailor dive off the back though.
My next wave took ten minutes to arrive. It was a left, but with a similar result to my last wave, this time with no pumps though. I kicked my board up and penetrated through the water.
Finally, a doozy came. I caught it and started pumping. I spied a guy on the shoulder paddling for it, oblivious to my being on it and zooming down the line towards his head. I whistled and got no reaction. I yelled and he pulled back just in time to not completely wreck the wave for me. My initial yell morphed into a hoot and I went for a sweet angled floater. Unfortunately, I lost my board in the wash.
My next wave was a very quick one, but I did a really cool-looking attempt at a layback smack. It's very fast, so if you want to see what I'm describing in the rest of this paragraph, you'll have to prime your trigger finger on the pause button. I went out a little more in the flats than I normally do, which allowed for a more vertical trajectory. I angled up the face and leaned back and absolutely SMASHED it. For some reason, I released my grip on my board with my back foot and came oh so close to pulling it, or so it felt.
The two waves gave me a much better feeling about the session's prospects. I paddled away from the crowd, a bit more towards the south jetty, but sat/paddled for thirty minutes with nothing of note coming by. My optimism slowly shriveled in the prolonged dry spell and I was over it.
I waited another ten minutes before a wave washed me in, happy to realize the air on the walk back wouldn't be nearly as cold as it was on Friday.
I timed it well, arriving about twenty minutes after the bottom of the low tide. My thinking was I would be suiting up in time for the walled-up faces to be opened up by the incoming push of the eventual high tide.
I barely glanced at Pier once I dead-ended after traveling west on Mission. I knew the low tide would turn any waves into late-breaking close-outs. My presumption was correct, and I didn't give it a second glance.
Harbor didn't look great, but it had some promise, especially knowing that it would only improve with the tide push.
I parked in the free lot and suited up. I walked to the edge of the jetty and surveyed both sides, electing to take the north end as it seemed more consistent.
I paddled out and sat. Then sat some more. Twenty minutes passed before I caught my first wave. My introduction to the session wasn't great, after the right finally let me in, it let me pump once before it closed out. I did do a cool sailor dive off the back though.
My next wave took ten minutes to arrive. It was a left, but with a similar result to my last wave, this time with no pumps though. I kicked my board up and penetrated through the water.
Finally, a doozy came. I caught it and started pumping. I spied a guy on the shoulder paddling for it, oblivious to my being on it and zooming down the line towards his head. I whistled and got no reaction. I yelled and he pulled back just in time to not completely wreck the wave for me. My initial yell morphed into a hoot and I went for a sweet angled floater. Unfortunately, I lost my board in the wash.
My next wave was a very quick one, but I did a really cool-looking attempt at a layback smack. It's very fast, so if you want to see what I'm describing in the rest of this paragraph, you'll have to prime your trigger finger on the pause button. I went out a little more in the flats than I normally do, which allowed for a more vertical trajectory. I angled up the face and leaned back and absolutely SMASHED it. For some reason, I released my grip on my board with my back foot and came oh so close to pulling it, or so it felt.
The two waves gave me a much better feeling about the session's prospects. I paddled away from the crowd, a bit more towards the south jetty, but sat/paddled for thirty minutes with nothing of note coming by. My optimism slowly shriveled in the prolonged dry spell and I was over it.
I waited another ten minutes before a wave washed me in, happy to realize the air on the walk back wouldn't be nearly as cold as it was on Friday.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
4.6.2012 Freezing Oceanside Harbor, S. Jetty
On this morning, I almost didn't check it, thinking it wouldn't be very good. I finally decided to go for it and shot up to Oceanside. Pier was doing its usual lake impersonation and I decided to check Harbor just because I'd driven all of the way up here. I trudged north.
My first go-around revealed nothing appetizing. I drove to the boat ramps, turned around and as I'm approaching the stop sign at the pay lot, I see a nugget roll through. I figured that was enough to get me out there, considering how far my go-out standards have fallen since winter.
I suited up as quickly as I could to minimize the amount of time I'd spend in the shiver-inducing outdoors. I had my wetsuit on halfway when Missed-It-Mike rang me and gave me ish for going to Oceanside. I cut the call short so I wouldn't already be freezing BEFORE hitting the water and walked towards the sand.
I jumped over the low concrete wall and waded across the river, noting a guy on a blue egg following too closely behind. I slapped the leash on and paddled out. The first wave that washed over me quickly made me recoil in pain as an immediate ice cream headache had its way with me.
Thankfully, I only had one wave to endure. I quickly caught my first wave and managed to pump on it, but the wave fattened up to the point where I couldn't get any speed going.
A second left arrived less than ten minutes later and it looked juicier. I got a quick pump in, but my plans for a successful wave were dashed by the aforementioned guy on the blue egg who was paddling out right in my way. He made absolutely no attempt to get out of my way or duckdive, so I cut down and the wave wasn't the type to allow me to get more speed. I tried to bottom turn from where I was with very little speed and did ok, but there wasn't enough push from the wave to do anything with that section. I faded off the back, bummed.
A right came and I went for a bottom turn, then shot up the face to smack it but leaned too hard into the wave for how flat it was. I threw a lot of spray but it was all for naught.
A right came about five minutes after the last one, and I did a better job of adjusting to the conditions and make the turn less extreme (ha!). This time, the fatness of the wave did me in and I was done for.
The tide was only getting higher and I made mental plans to bail, as it just wasn't worth it out there.
Everyone I was watching catch waves was dealing with the fatness of it. The inside closed out, otherwise that would've been my next choice.
I stayed out another twenty minutes before packing it in.
My first go-around revealed nothing appetizing. I drove to the boat ramps, turned around and as I'm approaching the stop sign at the pay lot, I see a nugget roll through. I figured that was enough to get me out there, considering how far my go-out standards have fallen since winter.
I suited up as quickly as I could to minimize the amount of time I'd spend in the shiver-inducing outdoors. I had my wetsuit on halfway when Missed-It-Mike rang me and gave me ish for going to Oceanside. I cut the call short so I wouldn't already be freezing BEFORE hitting the water and walked towards the sand.
I jumped over the low concrete wall and waded across the river, noting a guy on a blue egg following too closely behind. I slapped the leash on and paddled out. The first wave that washed over me quickly made me recoil in pain as an immediate ice cream headache had its way with me.
Thankfully, I only had one wave to endure. I quickly caught my first wave and managed to pump on it, but the wave fattened up to the point where I couldn't get any speed going.
A second left arrived less than ten minutes later and it looked juicier. I got a quick pump in, but my plans for a successful wave were dashed by the aforementioned guy on the blue egg who was paddling out right in my way. He made absolutely no attempt to get out of my way or duckdive, so I cut down and the wave wasn't the type to allow me to get more speed. I tried to bottom turn from where I was with very little speed and did ok, but there wasn't enough push from the wave to do anything with that section. I faded off the back, bummed.
A right came and I went for a bottom turn, then shot up the face to smack it but leaned too hard into the wave for how flat it was. I threw a lot of spray but it was all for naught.
A right came about five minutes after the last one, and I did a better job of adjusting to the conditions and make the turn less extreme (ha!). This time, the fatness of the wave did me in and I was done for.
The tide was only getting higher and I made mental plans to bail, as it just wasn't worth it out there.
Everyone I was watching catch waves was dealing with the fatness of it. The inside closed out, otherwise that would've been my next choice.
I stayed out another twenty minutes before packing it in.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
4.3.2012 Back to Oceanside, Despite her Deception
I had salivated all weekend over the reports of swell. I couldn't surf yesterday due to a work appointment in OB in the morning. The good news is I heard yesterday wasn't great and I really didn't miss out.
I was frothing for today and figured that NW being the predominant swell direction, Del Mar would be the call. I passed under the 1926 bridge heading south into downtown Del Mar and passed the first view point just in time to see a macker lazily fold over. I screamed for joy.
Unfortunately, 20th Street revealed very little to cure my surf fever. It was mostly fat waves thanks to the monster high tide. I swung down to North Torrey and checked it for about ten minutes while debating my next move. There had to be a place where the combo nature (there was also some SSW in the water) of the swell could be enjoyed on this high a tide. I thought of a spot I've surfed only a handful of times and decided to try my luck in Oside.
Sure enough, Buc Beach was the most appetizing set-up for the swell, at least that I had seen. I continued north, with the intention of checking Pier but barely made it to Tyler before turning around. Flatness.
I parked in the Buc lot and paddled out. There was some definite fatness on the sets. I paddled for a few but was not granted access. I made the fateful decision to try my luck on the inside and was eventually rewarded.
My first wave was a quick throwaway that looked fat, but closed out immediately after hitting the shallow spot.
I caught a nice-ish right that allowed me a solid enough section to do a backside roundhouse cutty. It's probably the best one I've caught on film ever. Yes, I know.
I caught a left where I did my patented SuperPump® and went for an air. I think what happened is I tried it on a part of the wave that had less push than I'd anticipated. My board and I did go airborne together, but we quickly realized our union wasn't natural, and went our separate ways. You can hear the heartbreak in my voice towards the end of the video.
I didn't catch anything else of note and went in after the crowd got heavy. Major props to Smiley Bro Dude, Squatty Italian-Looking Dude and Bald Asian Dude who were absolutely ripping out there!
I was frothing for today and figured that NW being the predominant swell direction, Del Mar would be the call. I passed under the 1926 bridge heading south into downtown Del Mar and passed the first view point just in time to see a macker lazily fold over. I screamed for joy.
Unfortunately, 20th Street revealed very little to cure my surf fever. It was mostly fat waves thanks to the monster high tide. I swung down to North Torrey and checked it for about ten minutes while debating my next move. There had to be a place where the combo nature (there was also some SSW in the water) of the swell could be enjoyed on this high a tide. I thought of a spot I've surfed only a handful of times and decided to try my luck in Oside.
Sure enough, Buc Beach was the most appetizing set-up for the swell, at least that I had seen. I continued north, with the intention of checking Pier but barely made it to Tyler before turning around. Flatness.
I parked in the Buc lot and paddled out. There was some definite fatness on the sets. I paddled for a few but was not granted access. I made the fateful decision to try my luck on the inside and was eventually rewarded.
My first wave was a quick throwaway that looked fat, but closed out immediately after hitting the shallow spot.
I caught a nice-ish right that allowed me a solid enough section to do a backside roundhouse cutty. It's probably the best one I've caught on film ever. Yes, I know.
I caught a left where I did my patented SuperPump® and went for an air. I think what happened is I tried it on a part of the wave that had less push than I'd anticipated. My board and I did go airborne together, but we quickly realized our union wasn't natural, and went our separate ways. You can hear the heartbreak in my voice towards the end of the video.
I didn't catch anything else of note and went in after the crowd got heavy. Major props to Smiley Bro Dude, Squatty Italian-Looking Dude and Bald Asian Dude who were absolutely ripping out there!
March Wrap Up
I surfed five times this month, the vast majority in Oceanside.
The wave of the month goes to that SICK layback slash I did on 3.13
Beating of the month honors to that wave that hit me on the back of the head on 3.15. I still find myself touching there in case there has been late-onset damage!
The wave of the month goes to that SICK layback slash I did on 3.13
Beating of the month honors to that wave that hit me on the back of the head on 3.15. I still find myself touching there in case there has been late-onset damage!
3.30.2012 Oceanside, Worst Session of the Year
This is going to be a short post.
The waves were bad. There wasn't any footage worth writing about. I paddled out because I hadn't done so in more than two weeks and needed to get wet.
The waves that did come were either fat, or would close out upon take-off.
I caught three waves and all were gutless. Bummer of a way to finish the upswing of a month that was March...!
The waves were bad. There wasn't any footage worth writing about. I paddled out because I hadn't done so in more than two weeks and needed to get wet.
The waves that did come were either fat, or would close out upon take-off.
I caught three waves and all were gutless. Bummer of a way to finish the upswing of a month that was March...!
Thursday, March 15, 2012
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.
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.
3.14.2012 Oceanside Harbor: One Good Sesh Deserves Another?
Given the best session I've had since January the previous day, I decided to not gamble on any other spots and shoot straight up to Harbor. I did do a cursory check of Pier, only to get a feel for the swell. It looked a little bigger than yesterday. PUMPED!
I parked in the free lot, suited up to the sweet sweet sounds of David Lee Roth courtesy of my GuyPod.
I ran down to the sand, then north towards my spot from yesterday. I saw a sick A-Frame during my three minute or so run, but other than that, nothing amazing. Hmm...
I caught a right and did really fast "shimmy" pumps, but it was for naught, as there was nothing for me around the corner.
I then caught a right that seemed to be hollow. I set up in an actual pigdog, no crab grab, but gave up after about a second. The too-quick act of righting myself made me plop over on my back.
Then, I caught an ok left which allowed me to do my wayback snap. In other words, a layback snap in which I splayed onto my back but didn't recover.
The wind came up, not in a good way, and the water surface started texturing. Word must've gotten out from yesterday's quality, as there were at least twice as many people.
I caught a left and pumped my brains out ( I was going to write 'ass off' there, but it just didn't seem right). There was no payoff, as the lip shut down. I managed to get most of my body underneath it, avoiding the penalty for my misplaced loyalty in sticking with this wave for this long.
My next wave was a nice one. Steep drop, followed by a long line. I pumped, then pumped. I pumped again. Finally, the section I'd salivated over approached and I smacked it hard. But I wasn't even close to making it.
My last wave was a left that was racier, and ended with me smashing through the wave to get away from the lip.
I parked in the free lot, suited up to the sweet sweet sounds of David Lee Roth courtesy of my GuyPod.
I ran down to the sand, then north towards my spot from yesterday. I saw a sick A-Frame during my three minute or so run, but other than that, nothing amazing. Hmm...
I caught a right and did really fast "shimmy" pumps, but it was for naught, as there was nothing for me around the corner.
I then caught a right that seemed to be hollow. I set up in an actual pigdog, no crab grab, but gave up after about a second. The too-quick act of righting myself made me plop over on my back.
Then, I caught an ok left which allowed me to do my wayback snap. In other words, a layback snap in which I splayed onto my back but didn't recover.
The wind came up, not in a good way, and the water surface started texturing. Word must've gotten out from yesterday's quality, as there were at least twice as many people.
I caught a left and pumped my brains out ( I was going to write 'ass off' there, but it just didn't seem right). There was no payoff, as the lip shut down. I managed to get most of my body underneath it, avoiding the penalty for my misplaced loyalty in sticking with this wave for this long.
My next wave was a nice one. Steep drop, followed by a long line. I pumped, then pumped. I pumped again. Finally, the section I'd salivated over approached and I smacked it hard. But I wasn't even close to making it.
My last wave was a left that was racier, and ended with me smashing through the wave to get away from the lip.
3.13.2012 FUN Solo Mission to Oceanside Harbor
After several no-go's last week, I was jonesing HARD. I made the decision the night before to get up early and suit up at home. I also took a water with me. Combining the two pretty much commits me to surf as I will have my suit on AND I'll have to pee.
I did so, and shot up the 5. I figured Wisconsin, Tyson and Pier wouldn't be all that great due to the low and still dropping tide. I was right, but there were some signs of life. I hit the gas with a smile on my face and the knowledge that Harbor loves a low tide.
I scanned S. Jetty and saw a little bit of a crowd, but more importantly, some swell. I drove down to the boat ramp and spotted some bangers. YES!
I parked, finished suiting up and walked to the beach. There was a bit of a crowd north of the jetty too, including a couple of rippers. Rather than compete with them and getting vibed (Harbor is notorious for localism, probably the most localized spot in N. County), I opted for an empty peak in the middle of the beach, parallel to the big condo complex building.
I didn't put on my booties as I didn't think I'd be out for very long.
I wasn't finished paddling out all the way when I caught my first wave. It was a very racy left whose lip hit me in the shoulder. I made it around a section only to be rewarded with closeout.
Three minutes later, I caught my second left of the day. I pumped hard a few times found a section and managed to turn a standard snap into an unplanned layback. I didn't make it.
My next wave was a right. I was having a hard time catching it and once I did it closed. I got half-covered up and pulled out the back.
Another right came and I got up slowly. I pumped quickly around the first section but there wasn't anything there.
Yet another right came. I had to lean hard on the front of my board to combat the offshores. I caught it and bottom-turned on a fat-ish face. I did a nice cutback, made it, but the wave was done.
C-C-COMBO BREAKER! A left came. I caught it, but was off-balance. I recovered and pumped like a madman, dueling with the lip the whole time until, at last, I was defeated...
I caught a decent left and I did my usual smack to bog to on-my-back, though I did get hung up on the lip. I like my bottom turn trajectory and the spot I picked, I think I'm just leaning too hard on my back foot for too long. If anyone has some tips for me I would appreciate it...!
I was getting really cold and my toes were going numb. It was time to wrap things up.
I caught a right and did an ok smack on it, the wave surprised me by quickly steepening upon my descent from the smack. I rushed another smack into it but was overcome by the crashing lip while up high on it.
I caught a left, pumped, then went into my typical smack, which turned into a layback. My ass dragged in the water, but thanks to my overtime glute work in the gym, I managed to muscle it out and stand back up. FINALLY! I think this counts as a layback snap!
After I came up after ditching my board, I got hooted by a random dude. YESS!
I rode in on my belly after this wave, and admired the various shades of purple in my toes.
I did so, and shot up the 5. I figured Wisconsin, Tyson and Pier wouldn't be all that great due to the low and still dropping tide. I was right, but there were some signs of life. I hit the gas with a smile on my face and the knowledge that Harbor loves a low tide.
I scanned S. Jetty and saw a little bit of a crowd, but more importantly, some swell. I drove down to the boat ramp and spotted some bangers. YES!
I parked, finished suiting up and walked to the beach. There was a bit of a crowd north of the jetty too, including a couple of rippers. Rather than compete with them and getting vibed (Harbor is notorious for localism, probably the most localized spot in N. County), I opted for an empty peak in the middle of the beach, parallel to the big condo complex building.
I didn't put on my booties as I didn't think I'd be out for very long.
I wasn't finished paddling out all the way when I caught my first wave. It was a very racy left whose lip hit me in the shoulder. I made it around a section only to be rewarded with closeout.
Three minutes later, I caught my second left of the day. I pumped hard a few times found a section and managed to turn a standard snap into an unplanned layback. I didn't make it.
My next wave was a right. I was having a hard time catching it and once I did it closed. I got half-covered up and pulled out the back.
Another right came and I got up slowly. I pumped quickly around the first section but there wasn't anything there.
Yet another right came. I had to lean hard on the front of my board to combat the offshores. I caught it and bottom-turned on a fat-ish face. I did a nice cutback, made it, but the wave was done.
C-C-COMBO BREAKER! A left came. I caught it, but was off-balance. I recovered and pumped like a madman, dueling with the lip the whole time until, at last, I was defeated...
I caught a decent left and I did my usual smack to bog to on-my-back, though I did get hung up on the lip. I like my bottom turn trajectory and the spot I picked, I think I'm just leaning too hard on my back foot for too long. If anyone has some tips for me I would appreciate it...!
I was getting really cold and my toes were going numb. It was time to wrap things up.
I caught a right and did an ok smack on it, the wave surprised me by quickly steepening upon my descent from the smack. I rushed another smack into it but was overcome by the crashing lip while up high on it.
I caught a left, pumped, then went into my typical smack, which turned into a layback. My ass dragged in the water, but thanks to my overtime glute work in the gym, I managed to muscle it out and stand back up. FINALLY! I think this counts as a layback snap!
After I came up after ditching my board, I got hooted by a random dude. YESS!
I rode in on my belly after this wave, and admired the various shades of purple in my toes.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
3.2.2012 Big and Shifty 15th Street w/ Forrest
I met Forrest at his place around 6:10 in the morning and was surprised (perhaps by design?) by a companion of the opposite-gendered variety (!). I changed into my wetsuit in silence and we sneaked out his door.
Because of the combo swell, we thought Oside would be the call. We drove north from F's Tamarack pad and were shocked at how lame the surf looked. We forewent checking Harbor and headed south.
We took the 101 and the surf started getting bigger, the NW swell showing its dominance over the heavily-decayed SW.
As we came down the road from Powerhouse Park and passed the railroad tracks, I saw two solid looking lefts with no one on them. There was ONE guy out at 15th Street on a FRIDAY. There were waves, but we both predicted a current was making staying on one peak difficult.
I'd managed to forget my booties at Forrest's and the air was cold.
The paddle-out was nasty. I suffered through several ice cream headaches and one crocodile wrestle (where I'm fighting the board underwater, all the way to the surface) before making it out.
I paddled for a few but was too deep on several. A big set came, but I managed to make it under unscathed.
Finally, I caught a nice-sized, probably about head-high wave. It was a little late and the second wave of the set, so steep and frothy! I hooted, then did an initial pump that was only somewhat effective due to the aerated water. I pumped twice before frontside whirly-birding. Forrest claims I almost hit my head with my board but the footage seems to disprove this. I won't put the footage up as I'm making an effort to have relative bangers on here.
About twenty minutes later, I caught another left, slightly smaller, but more lined up. I did a mid-faced slash on the deep part of the wave, spun it all the way around and did a back-foot-heavy backside floater. I can't remember making it, and since falling seems to be my baseline these days, I'll assume I ate it. Unfortunately, I didn't push the record button hard/long enough. Only Jesus Himself has footage of it.
I also caught a right which I caught extremely late. I thought I was going to pearl, but I made it. I didn't let my detractors down, though, as I had my rolling-up-the-windows (doble-helice in Spanish) motion going in double-speed. I was about to harness the speed into a nice one-fin out bottom turn but all I had in front of me was a detonating close-out.
Forrest and I agreed that it sucked and we bailed.
Because of the combo swell, we thought Oside would be the call. We drove north from F's Tamarack pad and were shocked at how lame the surf looked. We forewent checking Harbor and headed south.
We took the 101 and the surf started getting bigger, the NW swell showing its dominance over the heavily-decayed SW.
As we came down the road from Powerhouse Park and passed the railroad tracks, I saw two solid looking lefts with no one on them. There was ONE guy out at 15th Street on a FRIDAY. There were waves, but we both predicted a current was making staying on one peak difficult.
I'd managed to forget my booties at Forrest's and the air was cold.
The paddle-out was nasty. I suffered through several ice cream headaches and one crocodile wrestle (where I'm fighting the board underwater, all the way to the surface) before making it out.
I paddled for a few but was too deep on several. A big set came, but I managed to make it under unscathed.
Finally, I caught a nice-sized, probably about head-high wave. It was a little late and the second wave of the set, so steep and frothy! I hooted, then did an initial pump that was only somewhat effective due to the aerated water. I pumped twice before frontside whirly-birding. Forrest claims I almost hit my head with my board but the footage seems to disprove this. I won't put the footage up as I'm making an effort to have relative bangers on here.
About twenty minutes later, I caught another left, slightly smaller, but more lined up. I did a mid-faced slash on the deep part of the wave, spun it all the way around and did a back-foot-heavy backside floater. I can't remember making it, and since falling seems to be my baseline these days, I'll assume I ate it. Unfortunately, I didn't push the record button hard/long enough. Only Jesus Himself has footage of it.
I also caught a right which I caught extremely late. I thought I was going to pearl, but I made it. I didn't let my detractors down, though, as I had my rolling-up-the-windows (doble-helice in Spanish) motion going in double-speed. I was about to harness the speed into a nice one-fin out bottom turn but all I had in front of me was a detonating close-out.
Forrest and I agreed that it sucked and we bailed.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
February Wrap-Up
Yikes.
Three Sessions. Pathetic.
I thought this would be an insane surf month for me what with being in Hawaii for a week but I got SKUNKED...!
Conditions have been great at times, but the swell wouldn't cooperate. At other times, there'd be plenty of swell, but rank conditions.
20th Street, Del Mar 1
Cardiff Reef 1
Wisconsin Street 1
Amazingly, the session of the month goes to my last one, Wisconsin Street, because of the barrels.
Wipe-out of the month goes to that barrel wipe-out from 2-24 at Wisconsin.
Spring conditions decided to come early and this is terrible news for surfers. The summer swells (if they appear) usually don't really start coming in until June. Hopefully we'll have some late seasons NW'ers, otherwise this blog will see some lean times!
The good news is I currently have two trips to El Salvador lined up, one in late September and one in late October for two weddings. There's also a slight chance I'll go to Indo on a boat trip but so far it's just mental masturbation
Three Sessions. Pathetic.
I thought this would be an insane surf month for me what with being in Hawaii for a week but I got SKUNKED...!
Conditions have been great at times, but the swell wouldn't cooperate. At other times, there'd be plenty of swell, but rank conditions.
20th Street, Del Mar 1
Cardiff Reef 1
Wisconsin Street 1
Amazingly, the session of the month goes to my last one, Wisconsin Street, because of the barrels.
Wipe-out of the month goes to that barrel wipe-out from 2-24 at Wisconsin.
Spring conditions decided to come early and this is terrible news for surfers. The summer swells (if they appear) usually don't really start coming in until June. Hopefully we'll have some late seasons NW'ers, otherwise this blog will see some lean times!
The good news is I currently have two trips to El Salvador lined up, one in late September and one in late October for two weddings. There's also a slight chance I'll go to Indo on a boat trip but so far it's just mental masturbation
Monday, February 27, 2012
2.24.2012 Solo Mission, Wisconsin Street, Oceanside
After three no-go's, I was getting antsy. The forecasts were saying there would be a combo swell in the water starting Thursday afternoon and I was salivating over a Friday mish up to Oside.
I couldn't convince anyone to go with me, unfortunately.
My first glimpse of the waves muted my expectations. You could say I went from having a semi- to a blue-ball tinge in my loins.
I checked S. Oside all the way to pier and Wisconsin looked ever-so-slightly better than anywhere else. I parked the car and watched, trying to convince myself to paddle out. I had my GuyPod cranked and eventually, I made myself suit up and paddle out.
I decided to paddle out just south of Wisconsin Street. Everywhere else looked junky. I couldn't understand it, we had swell, the tide was about right, the conditions were excellent but the waves SUCKED.
It took me a good ten minutes before I caught my first wave. It was a right that I caught late. While setting my feet, I panicked. I had almost lifted my back hip up to allow me to plant my foot down, but I went for the knee instead. The lip went over me and I was deep, but I was almost out when I did my usual hug-the-wave-so-close-you-become-one-with-it. I barrel-rolled into oblivion and that was that. No footy of this one, as I didn't have enough time to depress the button.
Well, ok, not a bad start, it's better than it looks!
About five minutes after that, a nice, lined-up left came. I didn't realize it at the time, but it would have a barrel for me. Once I dropped in, my mission became clear...
I set my line and ducked down hard, being careful not to be too far out on the flats. If you watch the video below, you can see me put all of my weight on my back foot (watch my front foot), then back on the front foot hoping to get out.
Alas, it was not to be, as I got clipped, slammed, taken over-the-falls and ended up shoulder-checking the sand. *WIPE-OUT OF THE MONTH FRONTRUNNER*
I also caught a nice right that I was able to hit well and retain my speed.
I caught two waves that were eerily similar. Lefts that started off well, but they devolved into mush without enough push to get me to connect with the juicy but fleeting shorebreak section.
More waves like these kept coming and I quickly got over it. I went in and hoped the weekend would have something nice in store...
I couldn't convince anyone to go with me, unfortunately.
My first glimpse of the waves muted my expectations. You could say I went from having a semi- to a blue-ball tinge in my loins.
I checked S. Oside all the way to pier and Wisconsin looked ever-so-slightly better than anywhere else. I parked the car and watched, trying to convince myself to paddle out. I had my GuyPod cranked and eventually, I made myself suit up and paddle out.
I decided to paddle out just south of Wisconsin Street. Everywhere else looked junky. I couldn't understand it, we had swell, the tide was about right, the conditions were excellent but the waves SUCKED.
It took me a good ten minutes before I caught my first wave. It was a right that I caught late. While setting my feet, I panicked. I had almost lifted my back hip up to allow me to plant my foot down, but I went for the knee instead. The lip went over me and I was deep, but I was almost out when I did my usual hug-the-wave-so-close-you-become-one-with-it. I barrel-rolled into oblivion and that was that. No footy of this one, as I didn't have enough time to depress the button.
Well, ok, not a bad start, it's better than it looks!
About five minutes after that, a nice, lined-up left came. I didn't realize it at the time, but it would have a barrel for me. Once I dropped in, my mission became clear...
I set my line and ducked down hard, being careful not to be too far out on the flats. If you watch the video below, you can see me put all of my weight on my back foot (watch my front foot), then back on the front foot hoping to get out.
Alas, it was not to be, as I got clipped, slammed, taken over-the-falls and ended up shoulder-checking the sand. *WIPE-OUT OF THE MONTH FRONTRUNNER*
I also caught a nice right that I was able to hit well and retain my speed.
I caught two waves that were eerily similar. Lefts that started off well, but they devolved into mush without enough push to get me to connect with the juicy but fleeting shorebreak section.
More waves like these kept coming and I quickly got over it. I went in and hoped the weekend would have something nice in store...
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
2.12.2012 Stormy Cardiff Reef with Forrest EVENING SESH
Forrest called me at four, managing to catch me in the middle of flossing my teeth. As we discussed paddling out, I happened to yank off a crown in my mouth (it was on a temporary bond). He asked what the noise I made was and I told him. Then, I told him I couldn't surf, as I didn't want to deal with the now exposed nerve being out in the open AND in cold water. He called me a name I didn't appreciate and we hung up.
It was Sunday, so finding a dentist who could re-bond it would be an adventure. I looked in the mirror, looked at my crown, lined it up and jammed it back in with my thumb. GAME ON! I called Forrest back and he picked me up.
We got to Cardiff Reef and it was damn near empty on a SUNDAY! This should give you and idea as to the quality. We sat there mulling our options. I kept seeing a left roll through at Restaurant Row (north end of George's) and talking it up. Forrest kept saying it wasn't makeable. I thought he was biased as he was looking at it from a longboarder's perspective. Plus, if he was right, at least it'd be fun to try!
We started suiting up and Forrest said he was over it. Within 30 seconds, he then said he was testing me and I'd failed. We finished suiting up and paddled out.
The paddle-out was about what I expected, frenetic dodging of shorter-than-average wave period swell. It had the strength of a groundswell with the frequency of a nearshore windswell.
I posted up about two-thirds of the way out, while Forrest opted for the main take-off spot. That looked a bit slow to me, and I wasn't in the mood to battle a sweeper and a couple of loggers out there. Plus, there were some juicy, albeit junky waves rolling through and I had a shot of them where I was with no one around me!
I caught a right within five minutes. I had to time the paddle right as it was flat and it hit the edge of the reef and jacked up quickly. I caught it and did a drawn-out bottom turn into an avalanche of whitewater that had passed me by halfway through my turn.
I caught a left which had a line to it, though I barely made it around the first section. I got to the closeout WAY too late and the lip readjusted my camera. Try to spot me trying to get some speed from the falling lip with my arm in the video below (towards the beginning of the wave).
I started drifting south until I was in front of the southernmost restaurant and in a zone of only closeouts. The sun was very close to the horizon and obscured by the clouds. The darkness made the bumpy surf look that much worse and so I bid it adieu.
It was Sunday, so finding a dentist who could re-bond it would be an adventure. I looked in the mirror, looked at my crown, lined it up and jammed it back in with my thumb. GAME ON! I called Forrest back and he picked me up.
We got to Cardiff Reef and it was damn near empty on a SUNDAY! This should give you and idea as to the quality. We sat there mulling our options. I kept seeing a left roll through at Restaurant Row (north end of George's) and talking it up. Forrest kept saying it wasn't makeable. I thought he was biased as he was looking at it from a longboarder's perspective. Plus, if he was right, at least it'd be fun to try!
We started suiting up and Forrest said he was over it. Within 30 seconds, he then said he was testing me and I'd failed. We finished suiting up and paddled out.
The paddle-out was about what I expected, frenetic dodging of shorter-than-average wave period swell. It had the strength of a groundswell with the frequency of a nearshore windswell.
I posted up about two-thirds of the way out, while Forrest opted for the main take-off spot. That looked a bit slow to me, and I wasn't in the mood to battle a sweeper and a couple of loggers out there. Plus, there were some juicy, albeit junky waves rolling through and I had a shot of them where I was with no one around me!
I caught a right within five minutes. I had to time the paddle right as it was flat and it hit the edge of the reef and jacked up quickly. I caught it and did a drawn-out bottom turn into an avalanche of whitewater that had passed me by halfway through my turn.
I caught a left which had a line to it, though I barely made it around the first section. I got to the closeout WAY too late and the lip readjusted my camera. Try to spot me trying to get some speed from the falling lip with my arm in the video below (towards the beginning of the wave).
I started drifting south until I was in front of the southernmost restaurant and in a zone of only closeouts. The sun was very close to the horizon and obscured by the clouds. The darkness made the bumpy surf look that much worse and so I bid it adieu.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
2.10.2012 Big and Nasty 20th St. Del Mar with Missed-it-Mike
It had been about a week and a half since my last session. Usually, when returning from surfing in the tropics and knowing cold water awaits, I tend to need quality waves to put up with the colder-feeling water.
Since I got pretty much skunked in Hawaii, I was aching to get out there. The surf was doing what I like to call its winter tease. Big waves, bad conditions and/or polluted water.
I also managed to pick up a bug on my last day in Hawaii which I'm still battling. I'd made plans with Mike to surf the previous day, but I was just too sick.
I met Mike there at 6:30. He'd checked it before I got there and seemed to approve. He checked it with me and we saw head-high waves with some overhead sets. There were a lot of close-outs but, we saw some corners that looked delicious. Mike made the call and we suited up.
The paddle-out was a doozy. We managed to time it so we would paddle out at the worst possible time. Both Mike and I took some mackers on the head. It got to the point where my arms were screaming for me to stop paddling, but we made it out there.
We got swept down a bit. There were many waves I'd paddle for, but have to pull back as it would turn into a monster closeout.
My first wave was a right. It was just a little overhead. It closed out just after I bottom-turned. The corner I thought I'd seen disintegrated more quickly than I'd expected. If I could surf this wave again, I would've tried for a backside floater.
About twenty minutes later, I caught my next wave. It was a couple of feet overhead and, you guessed it, another right. I paddled for it and thought I was going to be too late. I managed to see someone paddling out and I didn't want him to see me puss out so I pressed on, popped up, air-dropped down and bounced right off my board, getting TROUNCED.
Mike had yet to catch a wave and we were drifting dangerously close to one of his least favorite waves: 15th Street Del Mar, Home of quite possibly the most foam per person in mid-County.
Mike and I both paddled for a big wave, and he hooted me on to it. It was another big closeout and I opted for straight-off Adolph, possibly the smoothest maneuver in my arsenal.
I went in and watched Mike catch a big right while managing to turn while his board went straight. He shoulder-rolled into the water, making the big splash the most spray I've seen him throw this year!
Once Mike came in, I told him that the last time I saw him on a wave was the gnarliest thing I've seen in the water in a long time, and that day's wave was the least gnarly thing I've seen him do. He is an enigma!
There was no footage worth showing. The big bounce off the board would've been cool but I must have not pressed the record button long enough to capture it...
Since I got pretty much skunked in Hawaii, I was aching to get out there. The surf was doing what I like to call its winter tease. Big waves, bad conditions and/or polluted water.
I also managed to pick up a bug on my last day in Hawaii which I'm still battling. I'd made plans with Mike to surf the previous day, but I was just too sick.
I met Mike there at 6:30. He'd checked it before I got there and seemed to approve. He checked it with me and we saw head-high waves with some overhead sets. There were a lot of close-outs but, we saw some corners that looked delicious. Mike made the call and we suited up.
The paddle-out was a doozy. We managed to time it so we would paddle out at the worst possible time. Both Mike and I took some mackers on the head. It got to the point where my arms were screaming for me to stop paddling, but we made it out there.
We got swept down a bit. There were many waves I'd paddle for, but have to pull back as it would turn into a monster closeout.
My first wave was a right. It was just a little overhead. It closed out just after I bottom-turned. The corner I thought I'd seen disintegrated more quickly than I'd expected. If I could surf this wave again, I would've tried for a backside floater.
About twenty minutes later, I caught my next wave. It was a couple of feet overhead and, you guessed it, another right. I paddled for it and thought I was going to be too late. I managed to see someone paddling out and I didn't want him to see me puss out so I pressed on, popped up, air-dropped down and bounced right off my board, getting TROUNCED.
Mike had yet to catch a wave and we were drifting dangerously close to one of his least favorite waves: 15th Street Del Mar, Home of quite possibly the most foam per person in mid-County.
Mike and I both paddled for a big wave, and he hooted me on to it. It was another big closeout and I opted for straight-off Adolph, possibly the smoothest maneuver in my arsenal.
I went in and watched Mike catch a big right while managing to turn while his board went straight. He shoulder-rolled into the water, making the big splash the most spray I've seen him throw this year!
Once Mike came in, I told him that the last time I saw him on a wave was the gnarliest thing I've seen in the water in a long time, and that day's wave was the least gnarly thing I've seen him do. He is an enigma!
There was no footage worth showing. The big bounce off the board would've been cool but I must have not pressed the record button long enough to capture it...
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
January Wrap-Up
This comes a few days late, I know...! Fourteen sessions blogged. A record! In fairness, I probably surfed twenty times in August, but didn't begin this blog until halfway through the month!
Oside Pier 4
Del Mar 15th 3
Torrey Pines 2
Del Mar 20th 1
Trails 1
Cbad Power Plant 1
Oside Jetty 1
Honl's, Hawaii 1
Congrats to all of the nominees!
Session of the Month Honors go to Burly Oside Pier 1.23.2012 I hadn't frothed that hard in a while.
Wave of the Month Honors go to the second wave I caught at Torrey Pines with Forrest. It'd been a LONG time since I caught a wave that size!
Bail of the Month Honors go to that barrel I got pinched on at Torrey Pines
Oside Pier 4
Del Mar 15th 3
Torrey Pines 2
Del Mar 20th 1
Trails 1
Cbad Power Plant 1
Oside Jetty 1
Honl's, Hawaii 1
Congrats to all of the nominees!
Session of the Month Honors go to Burly Oside Pier 1.23.2012 I hadn't frothed that hard in a while.
Wave of the Month Honors go to the second wave I caught at Torrey Pines with Forrest. It'd been a LONG time since I caught a wave that size!
Bail of the Month Honors go to that barrel I got pinched on at Torrey Pines
1.31.2012 Honl's, Kona, Hawaii, possibly my Sharpest Session of All Time
My wife was sent over to Hilo (east side of the island of Hawaii) and I convinced her to go a couple of days early AND let me tag along on her miles.
We'd driven the main drag (Ali'i Drive) and the only wave that made my loins purr was Banyan's. If my recollection of surf history serves me correctly, this was where Shane Dorian cut his teeth.
As I drove past the spot, I saw two sick reeling rights, beautiful blue-green spinning cylinders. I told Raquel this was where I was going to surf.
The day after we arrived, I rented a SICK 6'1" Jeff Bushman from Kona Boys. The board was thicker and wider than my glorious DHD back home, which is a good thing, as I wanted the extra paddle power for the Hawaiian juice.
I asked them where to go, other than Banyans, because that would be my first stop. They said, "the spot we recommend you don't go to is Banyans". I tried to gauge if they were being a-hole locals or were just being helpful and decided to play it safe and assume they were being helpful.
I picked up my wife from the hotel and we went searching for waves. It was a bit tough as we were looking for waves at a place where I'd never surfed and 98% of the coast is rocky.
We stopped at a spot right on the main drag after I saw what was close to a double-overhead set race-to-closing. This wasn't great, but I saw a couple of makeable ones and I was out there.
Raquel took this picture of me while I was putting the finishing touches on the wax job. You can't tell from the picture, but I was absolutely RARING to paddle out.
If you look at the beach, you will see there is some sand. The sand goes away once you step in, and then it's almost all SHARP "fresh" lava rock broken up by some coral heads. The paddle-out was pretty quick, though I was wary of scratching up my fingertips and/or knuckles. It didn't happen, though.
I sat close to the pack (four strong, one guy looked Hawaiian) and was as respectful as could be. If anyone paddled for a wave, I would paddle to get out of their way.
The older haole caught one wave and went in. It was me, another haole and a Hawaiian sponger.
All my waves were rights:
I caught my first wave within ten minutes of paddling out. I did a cutback on it and faded off the back. I'd strayed too far to the shoulder because I was being so careful to not fall in the shallows.
I paddled back out, a little emboldened by my first successful over-lava-rock-and-coral wave (hence the title of this post). I was also happy the Bushman felt good under my feet.
My second wave was a late-ish drop. I snapped once, then kicked out before the closing out section hit me.
I asked the other haole in the water what the name of the spot was and he said what sounded like "Honnels". I asked him if this was about average out here and he said it's actually pretty good today. He mentioned that a sick left will start breaking when the swell direction has some south to it.
Another sponger paddled out and to my delight, I heard him say, "Do Something!" to his buddy on another sponge. This phrase is a Hawaiian surfing tradition and I was happy to finally experience it organically. Though it was a sponger-to-sponger utterance.
I caught another wave and now, a grizzled vet, went for a full roundhouse cutback. I swung it around without issues, hit the whitewash and lost my fins in the wash, just as the sponger was duckdiving two feet inside of me. I wasn't pulling it anyway, but I did what may have looked like a grab-rail roundhouse recovery. I was trying to keep my board from hitting him, and judging by the lack of lip, I was successful.
My new bro (haole) went in and it was just me and two spongers. Waves kept coming and I kept pulling back from them, as most of them would close out quickly. Catching one of these waves would make for a sick drop, but also a possible encounter with the reef.
The spongers went in less than fifteen minutes later (!) and just before this happened, a big Hawaiian guy on a red longboard paddled out. I nodded at him and he looked right past me. Not quite a stink eye, as he didn't squint, but he didn't seem happy to see me out there.
I kept my strategy going. Any wave he showed interest in, I wouldn't even paddle for.
An even bigger Hawaiian on an even bigger board paddled out. Red Board knew him and they literally talked story.
The biggest wave of the day came as both of them were out of position, too inside after just having caught waves. I paddled hard for it, possibly too hard, and caught it late. I sensed the sweet, high percentile, spot passing me by, but I decided to drop in later than I am normally comfortable with. I swung down around the crashing lip and smacked it hard.
I felt a sensation I've had very few times outside of Punta Roca. I hung up on the lip with my board close to vertical, nose side pointing towards the trough of the wave. I stomped hard on the tail to keep myself from pearling, then kicked out. NICE!
More people paddled out and I decided to bail. I had an interesting paddle in, it was flat and then, as I got close enough to stand on the bottom, a set came and I had to paddle back out to have enough water between me and the bottom. I did that back and forth for about three minutes before I finally made it in.
As I gingerly twinkle-toed in, I managed to cut the bottom of my foot (Mike, you would've HATED it!).
That night I checked WannaSurf.com to see what other had to say about Honl's. Here is a link. If I'd read the comments beforehand, I would have had a hard time paddling out!
We'd driven the main drag (Ali'i Drive) and the only wave that made my loins purr was Banyan's. If my recollection of surf history serves me correctly, this was where Shane Dorian cut his teeth.
As I drove past the spot, I saw two sick reeling rights, beautiful blue-green spinning cylinders. I told Raquel this was where I was going to surf.
The day after we arrived, I rented a SICK 6'1" Jeff Bushman from Kona Boys. The board was thicker and wider than my glorious DHD back home, which is a good thing, as I wanted the extra paddle power for the Hawaiian juice.
I asked them where to go, other than Banyans, because that would be my first stop. They said, "the spot we recommend you don't go to is Banyans". I tried to gauge if they were being a-hole locals or were just being helpful and decided to play it safe and assume they were being helpful.
I picked up my wife from the hotel and we went searching for waves. It was a bit tough as we were looking for waves at a place where I'd never surfed and 98% of the coast is rocky.
We stopped at a spot right on the main drag after I saw what was close to a double-overhead set race-to-closing. This wasn't great, but I saw a couple of makeable ones and I was out there.
Raquel took this picture of me while I was putting the finishing touches on the wax job. You can't tell from the picture, but I was absolutely RARING to paddle out.
If you look at the beach, you will see there is some sand. The sand goes away once you step in, and then it's almost all SHARP "fresh" lava rock broken up by some coral heads. The paddle-out was pretty quick, though I was wary of scratching up my fingertips and/or knuckles. It didn't happen, though.
I sat close to the pack (four strong, one guy looked Hawaiian) and was as respectful as could be. If anyone paddled for a wave, I would paddle to get out of their way.
The older haole caught one wave and went in. It was me, another haole and a Hawaiian sponger.
All my waves were rights:
I caught my first wave within ten minutes of paddling out. I did a cutback on it and faded off the back. I'd strayed too far to the shoulder because I was being so careful to not fall in the shallows.
I paddled back out, a little emboldened by my first successful over-lava-rock-and-coral wave (hence the title of this post). I was also happy the Bushman felt good under my feet.
My second wave was a late-ish drop. I snapped once, then kicked out before the closing out section hit me.
I asked the other haole in the water what the name of the spot was and he said what sounded like "Honnels". I asked him if this was about average out here and he said it's actually pretty good today. He mentioned that a sick left will start breaking when the swell direction has some south to it.
Another sponger paddled out and to my delight, I heard him say, "Do Something!" to his buddy on another sponge. This phrase is a Hawaiian surfing tradition and I was happy to finally experience it organically. Though it was a sponger-to-sponger utterance.
I caught another wave and now, a grizzled vet, went for a full roundhouse cutback. I swung it around without issues, hit the whitewash and lost my fins in the wash, just as the sponger was duckdiving two feet inside of me. I wasn't pulling it anyway, but I did what may have looked like a grab-rail roundhouse recovery. I was trying to keep my board from hitting him, and judging by the lack of lip, I was successful.
My new bro (haole) went in and it was just me and two spongers. Waves kept coming and I kept pulling back from them, as most of them would close out quickly. Catching one of these waves would make for a sick drop, but also a possible encounter with the reef.
The spongers went in less than fifteen minutes later (!) and just before this happened, a big Hawaiian guy on a red longboard paddled out. I nodded at him and he looked right past me. Not quite a stink eye, as he didn't squint, but he didn't seem happy to see me out there.
I kept my strategy going. Any wave he showed interest in, I wouldn't even paddle for.
An even bigger Hawaiian on an even bigger board paddled out. Red Board knew him and they literally talked story.
The biggest wave of the day came as both of them were out of position, too inside after just having caught waves. I paddled hard for it, possibly too hard, and caught it late. I sensed the sweet, high percentile, spot passing me by, but I decided to drop in later than I am normally comfortable with. I swung down around the crashing lip and smacked it hard.
I felt a sensation I've had very few times outside of Punta Roca. I hung up on the lip with my board close to vertical, nose side pointing towards the trough of the wave. I stomped hard on the tail to keep myself from pearling, then kicked out. NICE!
More people paddled out and I decided to bail. I had an interesting paddle in, it was flat and then, as I got close enough to stand on the bottom, a set came and I had to paddle back out to have enough water between me and the bottom. I did that back and forth for about three minutes before I finally made it in.
As I gingerly twinkle-toed in, I managed to cut the bottom of my foot (Mike, you would've HATED it!).
That night I checked WannaSurf.com to see what other had to say about Honl's. Here is a link. If I'd read the comments beforehand, I would have had a hard time paddling out!
Sunday, January 29, 2012
SUPER SESSION: Del Mar, CA January 29th, 2003 My Best Wave EVER
Today is the nine-year anniversary of the best wave I've ever caught. Seeing as to how it's been close to a decade, I'll do my best to paint a vivid picture of that day with no embellishment.
January of 2003 was quite the surf month. I remember the waves were massive almost all month. On the 29th, I didn't surf early as I tend to do. I was living at my dad's house and I had an oil change appointment at two. It was a classic Santa Ana SoCal winter day. I loaded up my blue 1990 Honda Accord with my wetsuit tub and my 6'1" Gerry Lopez and thought I'd check the surf on my way to the oil change shop.
I caught a little glimpse of the waves in between Jake's and the lifeguard tower near 15th Street while driving. The quick glance I got was enough to make me pull over and suit up.
I walked out in between the aforementioned buildings and what I saw was GORGEOUS and empty waves with one guy on them, right out front. It was like stepping through a television screen into a surf video. As I walked, I decided NOT to surf there as it was too good! Have you ever had that feeling before? I'd never had it before and I've never had it since...
I quickly came to my senses, doubled around and paddled out. I remember because of the angle of the sun, there was a lot of glare on the surface of the water. As I duckdived under waves, I would be enveloped in a bright mist of lip blow-over from the offshores.
I saw a guy pull off a flawless roundhouse cutback, the only other guy out. He kicked out next to me and said very excitedly, "How GOOD is it out here?!?!". I mumbled something, I can't quite remember what and watched as he CAUGHT THE NEXT ONE IN!
I was all alone, in the best conditions I'd ever seen in Southern California. I caught a right and dropped all the way down, the lip was beginning to spill over at the top. It felt as though I'd levitated up to the lip, much like a 1984 Occy at J-Bay. I came down smoothly and dove under the wave.
A sponger paddled out and I saw some amazing waves come reeling off a sandbar. I paddled north just a bit. About ten minutes later, after just missing a wave, I spotted an amazing wave coming in.
The sponger, of course, set up outside of me. He was about fifty feet away from me, deeper and in a better position (etiquette-wise) than me. He was kicking and scratching furiously for it. Since I was more inside, I didn't have to paddle as hard as I didn't want to make the mistake of being too inside of it.
I remember thinking, "Please, God. Let him miss this wave so I can have it". As the wave just barely passed him by, he strained and put all of his weight on the front of his board letting out a pained, "NOOOOOOOOO!" as he realized he had missed it.
It looked to be about a 9-footer and perfect!
I paddled into it and popped up without issues. I pumped a few times and realized I was in for quite a ride when I sensed the wave was about to pitch. I pumped all the way down to the bottom, set my barrel stance with my knees slightly bent and my fingers caressing the water as it was in the middle stage of its horizontal-vertical-horizontal journey. I was in there for about four seconds, pumping slightly in the barrel. I thought I was golden, the lip was steady in its speed and there were no boils or people in my way. Then, the foamball robbed me of my dream by sweeping the board out from under my feet. I flipped onto my back and got a final, upside-down view of my barrel, this time from a bodysurfer's point of view.
I got wrecked by the wave. When I came up, I let out a guttural YEOH! and paddled back out. This was the second best feeling I'd EVER had (the first was a barrel in 1999 which I will cover in July as a super session).
A few more people paddled out and the tide got too low. It seemed like I'd caught the very best of it, though I'm sure I missed out on some really good waves because I didn't show up earlier.
January of 2003 was quite the surf month. I remember the waves were massive almost all month. On the 29th, I didn't surf early as I tend to do. I was living at my dad's house and I had an oil change appointment at two. It was a classic Santa Ana SoCal winter day. I loaded up my blue 1990 Honda Accord with my wetsuit tub and my 6'1" Gerry Lopez and thought I'd check the surf on my way to the oil change shop.
I caught a little glimpse of the waves in between Jake's and the lifeguard tower near 15th Street while driving. The quick glance I got was enough to make me pull over and suit up.
I walked out in between the aforementioned buildings and what I saw was GORGEOUS and empty waves with one guy on them, right out front. It was like stepping through a television screen into a surf video. As I walked, I decided NOT to surf there as it was too good! Have you ever had that feeling before? I'd never had it before and I've never had it since...
I quickly came to my senses, doubled around and paddled out. I remember because of the angle of the sun, there was a lot of glare on the surface of the water. As I duckdived under waves, I would be enveloped in a bright mist of lip blow-over from the offshores.
I saw a guy pull off a flawless roundhouse cutback, the only other guy out. He kicked out next to me and said very excitedly, "How GOOD is it out here?!?!". I mumbled something, I can't quite remember what and watched as he CAUGHT THE NEXT ONE IN!
I was all alone, in the best conditions I'd ever seen in Southern California. I caught a right and dropped all the way down, the lip was beginning to spill over at the top. It felt as though I'd levitated up to the lip, much like a 1984 Occy at J-Bay. I came down smoothly and dove under the wave.
A sponger paddled out and I saw some amazing waves come reeling off a sandbar. I paddled north just a bit. About ten minutes later, after just missing a wave, I spotted an amazing wave coming in.
The sponger, of course, set up outside of me. He was about fifty feet away from me, deeper and in a better position (etiquette-wise) than me. He was kicking and scratching furiously for it. Since I was more inside, I didn't have to paddle as hard as I didn't want to make the mistake of being too inside of it.
I remember thinking, "Please, God. Let him miss this wave so I can have it". As the wave just barely passed him by, he strained and put all of his weight on the front of his board letting out a pained, "NOOOOOOOOO!" as he realized he had missed it.
It looked to be about a 9-footer and perfect!
I paddled into it and popped up without issues. I pumped a few times and realized I was in for quite a ride when I sensed the wave was about to pitch. I pumped all the way down to the bottom, set my barrel stance with my knees slightly bent and my fingers caressing the water as it was in the middle stage of its horizontal-vertical-horizontal journey. I was in there for about four seconds, pumping slightly in the barrel. I thought I was golden, the lip was steady in its speed and there were no boils or people in my way. Then, the foamball robbed me of my dream by sweeping the board out from under my feet. I flipped onto my back and got a final, upside-down view of my barrel, this time from a bodysurfer's point of view.
I got wrecked by the wave. When I came up, I let out a guttural YEOH! and paddled back out. This was the second best feeling I'd EVER had (the first was a barrel in 1999 which I will cover in July as a super session).
A few more people paddled out and the tide got too low. It seemed like I'd caught the very best of it, though I'm sure I missed out on some really good waves because I didn't show up earlier.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
1.28.2012 Smaller Oside South Jetty with Forrest
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
1.26.2012 Booming, Offshore Torrey Pines with Forrest AND Missed-It-Mike!
The crew came together just after 6:30 at 20th Street. The waves there were less than impressive so we weighed our options. Forrest recommended N. Torrey Pines. Mike faltered, but then agreed to join us. We met at the first available parking spots closest to the first lifeguard tower.
Forrest, suited up (at home) as usual, so he was raring to go. I was into it. Mike on the other hand, had major reservations and announced he wouldn't surf. He got in my car and I eventually talked him into paddling out, though we did muse at how funny it would be to bail on Forrest.
The waves were big and racy. The offshore winds were funneling through the 56 corridor and were creating a rain effect that would pelt you in the face hard if you missed a wave. Of course, this means you will most likely have to drop in late on every wave.
We paddled out and it was a nasty one. I joined Forrest on the outside and quickly got swept out.
I caught a wave relatively quickly, after paddling in some. It was a good-sized right, probably about head-high. Unfortunately it only afforded me the thrill of the drop. It quickly raced off without me.
The next wave was almost identical. This time I went for a half-snap and the wave hit my board. I went flying.
Third wave, third closeout right: On this wave I didn't even get a chance to trim laterally across the wave. I kicked my board up to lose as little position as possible.
About a half-hour after paddling out, I caught my first left and it was a doozy. I popped up and set up for the barrel. Things started off well, I didn't make my common mistake of setting up too far from the wall. Unfortunately, I got pinched almost immediately by The Incredible Shrinking Barrel. The lip detonated on me and literally flipped me. I felt my body turn upside down and it happened so quickly that I turned what should have been a barrel into an impromptu sailor dive.
A right came through less than twenty minutes later. I got a snap in on the vertical part of the wave, but I was pushed off of it by the offshores. I suppose I could've snapped lower down on the wave but that looks so lame...
Mike and Forrest spotted a pod of dolphins about five or six strong. Mike's voice became alarmed and he said to me, "Stay close to me". I told him no and paddled away just a bit to see how he would react, but the dolphins ended up veering left and coming closer to me. This is probably the closest a dolphin has surfaced to me in the wild. Here's some footage of the next pod that passed us by.
I then caught a left that seemed nice at the beginning, but ended up being slow. The good news is, after kicking out, I witnessed Missed-It-Mike doing something incredible.
I didn't catch the beginning of it, but what I saw was this. Mike was desperately clinging to his rail with heavy water cascading over him. This was the heaviest thing I've ever seen him do in the water, and I've been surfing with him for ten years. I duckdived the wave and was off-my-rocker thrilled and let him know how gnarly that was.
Side Note: Mike was cold. He told me so eight times!
I also got some footy of some dolphins.
Forrest, suited up (at home) as usual, so he was raring to go. I was into it. Mike on the other hand, had major reservations and announced he wouldn't surf. He got in my car and I eventually talked him into paddling out, though we did muse at how funny it would be to bail on Forrest.
The waves were big and racy. The offshore winds were funneling through the 56 corridor and were creating a rain effect that would pelt you in the face hard if you missed a wave. Of course, this means you will most likely have to drop in late on every wave.
We paddled out and it was a nasty one. I joined Forrest on the outside and quickly got swept out.
I caught a wave relatively quickly, after paddling in some. It was a good-sized right, probably about head-high. Unfortunately it only afforded me the thrill of the drop. It quickly raced off without me.
The next wave was almost identical. This time I went for a half-snap and the wave hit my board. I went flying.
Third wave, third closeout right: On this wave I didn't even get a chance to trim laterally across the wave. I kicked my board up to lose as little position as possible.
About a half-hour after paddling out, I caught my first left and it was a doozy. I popped up and set up for the barrel. Things started off well, I didn't make my common mistake of setting up too far from the wall. Unfortunately, I got pinched almost immediately by The Incredible Shrinking Barrel. The lip detonated on me and literally flipped me. I felt my body turn upside down and it happened so quickly that I turned what should have been a barrel into an impromptu sailor dive.
A right came through less than twenty minutes later. I got a snap in on the vertical part of the wave, but I was pushed off of it by the offshores. I suppose I could've snapped lower down on the wave but that looks so lame...
Mike and Forrest spotted a pod of dolphins about five or six strong. Mike's voice became alarmed and he said to me, "Stay close to me". I told him no and paddled away just a bit to see how he would react, but the dolphins ended up veering left and coming closer to me. This is probably the closest a dolphin has surfaced to me in the wild. Here's some footage of the next pod that passed us by.
I then caught a left that seemed nice at the beginning, but ended up being slow. The good news is, after kicking out, I witnessed Missed-It-Mike doing something incredible.
I didn't catch the beginning of it, but what I saw was this. Mike was desperately clinging to his rail with heavy water cascading over him. This was the heaviest thing I've ever seen him do in the water, and I've been surfing with him for ten years. I duckdived the wave and was off-my-rocker thrilled and let him know how gnarly that was.
Side Note: Mike was cold. He told me so eight times!
I also got some footy of some dolphins.
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