A WEEKEND AT TRESTLES: A REUNION OVERDUE, SAT 3.26.2011 EVE

CREW: DAIS, J, BORIS, AL JIMENEZ
FLAKES OF THE DAY: Jonathan
RAN INTO: NA
TIME: Can’t recall, guestimating from 1530-1830, 3 hrs.
CONDITIONS: Light onshore winds, a little smaller than the morning, occasional head high sets, sunny, and just a little bit of texture on the water

    Jonathan called and said that he couldn’t make it. Oh well. I wasn‘t even done with my Spam, eggs, and rice when I saw Boris pull up in his car. Wow, I thought. The only person the whole weekend that found the place on his own accord without getting lost. Fuckin’ A, that’s German efficiency for you! I was delighted to see him, gave him the grand tour, and then my phone rang again. J showed up, a minute later Dais showed up, and within ten more minutes Al showed up.

The whole time in Iraq all we talked about was surf.

    Al . . . for him to be there meant a great deal to me. We bumped heads a lot while we were roommates in Iraq, but I’ve truly missed the guy, and it was only the fourth or fifth time that I had seen him since the deployment ended.

It felt just like the surf movies: perfect strangers brought together by surf.

    I went through the introductions and introduced everyone to each other. It was barely 1430, and I suggested that we wait until about 1630 to paddle out, but the thirst overcame everyone, as there was a mutiny. My decision was overruled, and we headed back to Trestles at about 1500.

    Dais, like Klaude, wanted to check out Uppers. I told him that it wasn’t happening up there today, and that even Klaude would attest to that if he were there. Al noticed the peaks peeling away in front of the BP. We paddled out at exactly the same spot again.

    Even though the morning had the best surf for the whole weekend, this evening session was the most fun. We weren’t men anymore; we were like children, joyous as ever. No, fuck joyous; we were GAY, four gaylords on their surfboards unbelievably stoked to get wet. The positive energy was overwhelming. Dais had summed it up to me later that day. I can’t recall his exact quote but he said that they were all strangers with only the common connection through me, and that they still got along and had a good time. I was happy to have my boys out there in the water all together like that; they never even met each other up until that day, but it was like they knew each other for years.

    The surf wasn’t as clean as the morning due to the on shore winds, the consistency wasn’t there, but the waits were worth it. Surf was averaging about chest to shoulder high with the occasional head high set.

    Al rips, and I wanted him to see my improvement. I saw him catch some rights and launch some buckets out the back. I got overly excited and fell on a couple at first, but he saw me successfully pull off some late shoulder high, plus, take offs.

    J was killing it. In fact, I think Al only had a higher head count by a couple of waves, but those two guys were the stand-out surfers from our group, as they rarely scratched out on anything.

    Dais was to our south and farthest away from me. I saw him catch a couple waves from behind, but I didn’t have the luxury of being close enough to see his rides. Either way, I know he got his fare share, too. And in the end, everyone was happy.

    We had to have surfed at least three hours. My shoulder muscles were depleted, and my upper back ached from overuse. Al and J tried to squeeze into the Lowers line up Like Klaude did in the morning, but the congestion was just too much. Al caught a wave from the main peak but fell after he stuck the landing; he was tired. We all were.

    Boris followed us out there to take pics, and he had footed it back to camp long before we got out. One by one we made our way back to the shore, awkwardly stumbling over the cobblestones on the inside. The walk back to camp was filled with laughs and stories that began with, “I saw you on that one wave--”. The emotions were pure. We were all brought together by surf. Money couldn’t buy the happiness and elation that I felt after that sesh, walking back towards camp with my buddies: boards in hand, tired, worn, stoked, and grinning.