COUNTY LINE: STRIKING GOLD ON THE NORTHERN FRONTIER PART II: SAT 4.09.2011 EVE

Klaude overlooks the clean conditions in the early afternoon.

CREW: Dais, Klaude, Francis, and Nichole (Francis’s photog gf)

FLAKES OF THE DAY: None

RAN INTO: No one

TIME: 1500 – 1615, 1 hr. & 15 min

CONDITIONS: Cold, still icy balls temperature, slight onshore winds, texture with chop, a little bumpy, inconsistent, and waist to chest high surf.

     While we ate our lunch the conditions didn’t cease. A lot of people from the morning crowd left, and different surfers came and went. There were still a lot of waves to be had, and we were full of fried seafood and fries.

I took a moment to ask Klaude and Dais a serious question. I said, “If you went to hell and only had the choice of surfing two different conditions, which would you choose? Surfing perfect waves in Alaska-type conditions but without a wetsuit, or surfing perfect waves in a tropical climate, but the water is pure diarrhea?” Long story short, Klaude chose Alaska, and Dais chose the diarrhea route.

As I sprawled over the van’s mid row seat, Francis came up to us in his wetsuit and said he was paddling out. Dais and Klaude were still trying to get their naps in. I definitely needed it, especially after eating the rest of Klaude’s meal that he couldn’t finish. The sound of the passing cars lulled me to sleep.

After barely a half hour nap, I heard Klaude get up. “I’m getting out there,” he said. “Francis is tearing it up right now.”

“Well, I ate a lot of food. I need a little more rest,” I replied.

I lay back down and closed my eyes. I wondered if I really needed the rest. Dais and I got up and changed for round two. I had to take a shit, so those guys got to the water before I did. I donned my damp wetsuit and headed back down the path. As I warmed up I saw Francis doing some nice, wide arching, cutbacks right in front of me. He looked like he was paddling in. I waved to him and gave him a thumbs up. He smiled, turned around, and returned to the line up. The paddle out was a little harder because the inside was more consistent. The water was still a frigid temperature. I wondered how long I would last. Dais and Klaude were far off to my south, Francis was to my immediate north, but we weren’t in each other’s space. I caught a right immediately. I paddled as I watched a guy to my left in my peripheral vision. He scratched out and didn’t get the wave. I kept paddling and got the drop. The face was crumbling away a little, but I pumped my board to make the section. As I approached the lip, a longboarder was trying to scratch his way into it. I was right on his inside when he saw me coming and gave up. A funny thing happened; I top turned off of the lip and tossed some water on the guy’s face. It could be looked at as disrespectful, but the same shit has happens to me at Porto, and I don’t get mad. After all, I wouldn’t expect anyone to give up a carve or a snap just because I’d end up getting wet. Hell, we’re already in the water anyway, right?

My next wave wasn’t as good, but when I jumped off my board, my mouth was open. Some water got in my mouth, hit the back of my throat, and I ended up swallowing it. It didn’t taste like Porto water. Actually, there was a hint of porta potty flavoring in that water; it was gross. That’s what I get for making jokes about surfing in diarrhea, I thought.

As I returned to the line up, Francis was on the cliff walking back to his truck. Francis must’ve taken the waves with him because after that the conditions turned to shit. The line up got empty, and the lulls got longer. We caught the high tide, and even though it wasn’t a big difference in tide height, it was enough to change the conditions. The on shore wind picked up a little, too, and the surface got pretty bumpy. The peak by the kelp bed was nearly abandoned and left to me and two other guys. I saw Klaude’s rising sun design up on the cliff, so I caught one in.

The conditions were good the whole day, but the window couldn’t stay open forever. By the time we were packed up and ready to go it felt like the wind weakened, and the water glassed off again.

“Paddle out?” Klaude said.

We chuckled, fired up the bang-bus, and were out. I didn’t even know that we’d end up surfing the whole day, eating and resting in place. Not all surf trips result in scoring good waves, but this was one of those rare occasions that we did. More so, I’m happy that we surfed a new spot. Our range of options just got that much wider. County Line, your first impression has been a good one.