CREW: Solo Bolo
FLAKES OF THE DAY: None
RAN INTO: Rick
TIME: 1630 - 1730, 1 hr.
CONDITIONS: Head high, extremely low tide, drained, walled up, no wind, sunny, glassy, and beautiful.
I didn’t get a chance to surf on Wed. My body was pretty worn out, it was Lauren’s birthday, so it was easy to justify staying in. According to Surfline, the conditions have been great. On Thursday I had to work all day, and I did my best to see if I could get some for myself. After getting back to El Segundo around 1600, I ran upstairs, changed, grabbed my surf gear, and bolted out the door. I saw some heads at Hammers and the Jetty, and I could see that there was some swell as I pulled into the Porto lot. There were a lot of people parked. The sun was getting low, and an orange haze filled the sky. I sent out the mass text that I was paddling out. By chance, Rick was there, and he met me at my car. He didn’t have any gear with him so he couldn’t surf, but he was skateboarding around. I hope I could be that cool when I’m that age.
One glance at the line up and it didn’t take a gynecologist to see that it was walled. The jetty was doing it (as usual), and Rosecrans looked like it was holding a little shape. Surfline gave Porto the “Gold Rating” that day. I’m sure it was good when the tide was higher, but I caught it at low tide. My goal was just to paddle out, wave or no wave. I was due to leave for Mammoth on Friday, so it was my last chance to surf for a couple days.
I grabbed the 6’2 DMS and paddled out in front of the tanks. There were a lot of people by 45th and a pack of people by the smoke stacks. When the sets came they were head high. I paddled for shoulders whenever I found some, but as soon as I was at the top, I saw that the shoulder was closing out, too. I saw guys by 45th and 42nd dropping in, but their rides were really short. Surprisingly, there were guys getting some good rides by the stacks. I think that sand bar has been working lately, at least with the latest swell.
I waited forever. I finally paddled for a left. When I slid down the face the section was already running away. I had an opportunity to hack the lip or kick out. I kicked out to avoid a shallow pounding. I got cocky for a minute there. I thought to myself how I felt confident duckdiving big waves, now. Right after that, I got caught by a set from playing the inside line too close to shore. I had to duck dive about three waves without making progress. I held on as hard as I could. These were head high, punchy, and on a low tide. Before I made any more progress, another damn set came and ass raped me.
I caught one more wave, but it closed out, and I could only go straight. I took inventory on the others around me, and they, too, were waiting all evening for that one good wave. That wave never came for almost all of us. My session ended with me paddling in to shore; the way I hate to end any session. It was still nice being out there. I didn’t expect much, so I can’t say that I was disappointed. Until then, Porto still owes me at least one good wave.
No comments:
Post a Comment