SOUTH OXNARD: YOU CAN ONLY SURF SO MUCH - SAT 14AUG2011 MOR

Crew: Rick, John A., Jordan, Klaude
Conditions: 3-4 ft., glassy, slight offshore wind, high tide, inconsistent, overcast, warm, fast, peaky, pitchy, brutal, round, slightly hollow.



Something Different:


    After getting skunked so much down south, I need another option for a south facing break. Rick has been telling me about his secret spots, so I try to make myself available the next time he goes. Yesterday on the drive back home, Klaude called to invite me to County Line. I told him that I’d see what Rick was doing first. Sure enough, Rick called me right after and invited me up north. Last night I told Klaude that I’d pick him up at 0615.



Your body will tell you:


    I’m up. It’s 0530. I sit up, and my upper back and shoulder muscles are aching. I make a cup of coffee and eat a banana. I have a bad feeling about this. In the back of my mind, I worry that I’m pushing myself too much and that I should take a little break from surfing. But today we’re going to a secret spot, and I have to surf it there with Rick to learn as much about it as possible.

    I text Klaude as I start the car. I’m late. He texts back: Whaaaat! Matt late! The whole world is coming to an end!

    It is a little out of my character. I pick him up, and we start our long morning drive on PCH. We pass Sunset. It’s small and crowded. Malibu is the same. County Line looks clean, but it looks kind of small and extremely crowded as well. No, not this morning. No more crowded surf, at least for today. We’re heading somewhere that I’ve never paddled out at before where no one should be at.

    We pass Rick’s vehicle on the road, but they don’t see us. When Klaude and I approach the beach, we can’t see over the big rocks, but when we climb over what we see doesn’t look too promising. There are peaks, well defined peaks. They are almost too defined. There’s a fast drop with a tapered shoulder. “Looks like mostly shore pound,” says Klaude.

    To me, he doesn’t sound stoked, but I’m optimistic. For one thing, there are only three guys out. The rides look short, but they are peaks and not walls. I can work with that. The sand bars spread the peaks out a little. Also, there’s no wind, and it’s glassy.

    Rick and company show up. They’re a little disappointed too. John says, “This is the first time I’ve seen this place so flat?” It doesn’t matter. Rick’s the first one to suit up, Klaude follows, and I take my time getting ready.

    I use my DMS potato chip for this session. Since the peaks look fast, I should have enough push to get me into the waves. We all paddle out, and the water’s so smooth that it’s hard to make out the curling lip. I eat shit on my first couple waves. They jack up so fast that as I’m popping up the lip’s already over me. It’s good, it’s a challenge. It’s a challenge and it’s rideable, a 180 compared to the last four days. It’s just before high tide, and the place just seems to turn on. Random peaks unexpectedly sprout. Sitting on the shoulder, we can see almond shaped slots when the waves pitch. Some peaks are so sharp they look like inverted Vs. Some waves transform into beasts that jack up violently and leave no room for error. I’m in awe, and today is only a four foot day on the face, maybe only three feet. Klaude turns to me and says, “I think it’s pitchier than HB.”

    “I was thinking the same thing.” Out of all of us, John makes it look the easiest. I don’t have full view, but he gets shacked on one wave. Rick paddles in to waves early with his fish and unleashes backhand hacks that spray water out the back.

    “I’m going for the barrel,” Klaude says. “It’s time to go barrel hunting.” Shit, he’s not the only one. I wouldn’t mind getting one too. I get a couple waves that moosh out after the drop. On some, the section is just too fast so I have to penetrate out the back. I do get some good rights which let me have a good top turn to end it. The waves aren’t the problem, it’s my body. Everyone fights the current to stay in place. I keep drifting north and away. Each stroke just feels tiresome. I actually welcome the lulls to catch my breath.

    One of those freak monster waves jacks up in front of Klaude. He’s paddling for it. As he pops up going left, it looks like he’s grabbing rail for a backside slot, but the lip comes down on him and pushes him towards the inside.

    A peak forms in front of me. I know it’s jacking up right away, so I turn and paddle early. I make the steep drop and look down the line. The section is building, but I’m able to pump my way around it. I see that the shoulder is standing up, and the lip is about to curl over. Rick is paddling out near the shoulder. He yells, “Yeah, Matt!” in approval. I’m feeling good. My brother told me to fade out, pull in, and check turn; I’m about to set myself up. Unfortunately, the wave’s speed has me on a collision course with Rick. He’s not over the shoulder yet. We both look at each other like deers caught in the headlights. What should I do? I should straighten out and avoid hitting my buddy, but for some reason I can’t stop my self from pulling in. Collision is inevitable at this point; I’m literally two feet away from him. The lip starts to curl, Rick starts to duckdive, and I start my leap over Rick to avoid a heavy impact with my board.

    We resurface and I say, “Fuck, Rick, I’m sooo fucking sorry! Are you all right?”

    “Yeah, Matt, I’m fine. Sorry, I had no where to go.”

    “I know, but fuck, I shouldn’t have ran over you.” We pull our boards apart.

    “It’s okay. I duckdived deep. That was a good one!”

    “I know. I couldn’t help it. I really wanted to get slotted.” My demeanor switches from that moment. God dammit I want another one just like that. I paddle closer to everyone, and we’re all hooting at the big sets that are rolling through.

    Unfortunately, the tide gets higher which causes things to get swampy. Just like that, it shuts off for a little while. The lulls are long again with a couple waves in between. Jordan’s practicing with us for her high school surf team, and despite the backwash jacking up the waves on the inside, she’s fucking charging. All morning long, she gets her fair share of waves, either ending her rides with good carves or semi floaters that she kicks out of. She makes me feel old, while the two brothers make me feel inexperienced. I struggle at this point. I’m repelling the peaks, and John seems to be scoring the most. Rick paddles up to me and says, “I got hit by my fins on the inside.”

    “What, where?”

    “On my head.”

    “Are you all right?”

    “Yeah, I’m fine.”

    “Put your head down.” He complies, and I see a small bright red square in his scalp. “Dude, your cut.” Poor Rick. He’s had concussions from snowboarding and surfing. His accident brings me back to the realization that surfing is dangerous, and we’re always one awkward wipeout away from being exposed to serious harm. A peaky left comes my way, I paddle for it, and as I’m dropping in I can see that the section is walling up. I try to penetrate out the back, but I get sucked down with the white wash. The inside is so turbulent, and that wave is pretty heavy, so it’s full weight sucks me under. The wash yanks my right arm behind me, and I feel a sharp pain from my right shoulder. I resurface laboring myself on my board. I paddle, but there’s pain in my range of motion. Every time I paddle with my right arm, something hurts in my rotator cuff. I alter my paddle to work around the pain. I think I get one more wave before Rick calls the session. It’s almost noon. Just like that, the whole morning is gone. It doesn’t even feel that we’ve surfed that long.

    On the way home I deny the pain, but I know that it’s serious enough to keep me out of the water. Coping with it is weird because surfing is a huge part of my life. I’d like to think that I just need a day of rest, but I know it will be more than that.



Aftermath:


    Sunday rolls around. I dedicate the day to Lauren. Klaude and Francis text me. It was a good morning for surf. Consistent 2-3 ft. at Parks and glassy. Just my luck. When I get injured, the surf is good. The Amador brothers were out there too. I’m missing out. My shoulder feels worse today. I’ve had partial tendon tears before, and I expect the same. I want to surf so bad, but the smart thing to do is stay out of the water this week. Lesson learned. It’s better to miss one day of surfing to give your body rest than to surf nonstop, injure yourself, and be out for a week. Damn, I miss the water.