HOUSE WINS, WED 9NOV2011 MOR

Location: Churches

Crew: Francis

Time: 0900-1030, 1 hr & 30 min

Conditions: Sunny, clear, warm air, cold water, building onshore wind, 1-2 ft, inconsistent, high tide.

            With the Veterans Day holiday, I had Tuesday off from school. Tuesday was the day that I really wanted to surf. I woke up at 0530, started getting my shit ready, but then I had the gut feeling that I should stay home and use the time to polish off some assignments. Lauren later told me that maybe it was because I was tired. That too perhaps. Since I’m going out of town this weekend, I’ve been trying to tackle my papers early to make life easier on myself.

            Looking at the surf forecast, Wednesday was  going to be a small day. The South Bay was 1-3 feet with poor conditions while South OC was 2-3 feet and “fair.” There’s something about that color change from blue to green that raises some optimism for the surf fiend. Wanting to at least dedicate one day for surf in the midst of my studies, Wednesday would be the day for a gamble. 2-3 foot surf isn’t promising, but I have surfed Trestles in the most pristine of conditions when small surf is actually consistent, fun, and rideable--ideal 2-3 foot days. Of course, that’s what I was thinking in my mind. Don’t we all approach sessions that way? Even though the end result is usually the opposite, it sure is sweet when it works out.

            I checked the roster and hit up Francis, Khang, Jonathan (formerly known as J but now upgraded to the “new” Jonathan since the other one is a flake), and Shan. Francis was the only one with the open schedule. I briefed him on the operation. I kept emphasizing “it may be small.” Francis is the perfect battle buddy because he doesn’t really care. On his days off he’d rather be looking for surf than stuck at home. I had a taker.

           

Pick up your cards:

            Because of the near six foot tide at 0730, I tell him to meet me at 0700. There’s no rush. The idea is to catch the tide as it’s going down in hopes to catch the window of good surf as it starts. It’s hard to deprogram myself to surf later. As a surfer, dawn patrolling or paddling out early is usually the theme of any morning sesh, so I’m going against my natural instinct to leave before first light. Traffic is a little heavier on the freeway, but the carpool lane saves us. As we pull up to Trestles we get a glimpse of Lowers from the highway. Francis does a count, “One, two, three . . . seven guys out.” I turn my head to take a look . . . I don’t see anything. Worst of all, there’s no crowd at Lowers--bad sign.

            The weather’s gorgeous out. As we pass under the trestle we’re thrust into the scenery of palm trees, sand, and blue skies mimicked by blue and glassy water. We park, and the second I open my car door I can feel that there’s no wind. It’s a cool morning that’s warming up into the low seventies. It’s the ideal mid-week crowd with only a half dozen heads out. Our optimism prevails as we go on about how we love surfing during the week, happy that we’re not stuck in an office and have the opportunity to venture out. Unfortunately, the only thing missing is waves. Most of the surfers out are longboarders. We see one shortboarder crank out a nice turn on a right before the wave fizzles. We tell ourselves that it’s just the high tide and that things are bound to get better. Some clean two footers roll through, and the usual three peaks at Churches seem to be working. We take our time changing and make our way to the sand.

            First we walk north to take a look at Middles . . . nothing. Lowers isn’t doing its signature thing either. Today, Churches is the call. Rick let me borrow his 4/3 wetsuit to use in San Fran. I put it on to test it out. The second my feet touch the water I turn to Francis and say, “The water’s not bad.” By the time I’m knee deep I feel water leaking through my right knee padding and both leg seams. When I get waist deep I feel water leaking through my crotch. The ice-chilled water creeps up my lower back, and the decision is made that I’m not using this thing in Frisco. 

            We sit at the northernmost peak. I try to pick off the lefts. Some waves come through, but they are weak, slopey two footers. Once I pop up all I can do is trim. Francis gets a couple rights, and he converses with the longboarder next to him. When I paddle up to Francis later he says, “That guy said it’s only going to get better.” Yes, so we are hoping. 

            The windless morning is now turning a bit side shore. After the first hour the consistency picks up a little, and we can see some pulses in the distance. The waves are barely over two feet, but we scratch out on them. The wind seems to kill the erectness of the shape, and before we know it the crowd starts to thin. Now sitting at this peak is just Francis and I. The hopes that the surf would get better with the dropping tide fail to materialize. We decide to walk further north to see if it’s any better, but catching a wave in takes so long that I finally paddle in (I hate paddling in). We walk a little north to see Middles and Lowers, and it’s just as bad. What a goddam waste. Back at Churches we see some longboarders going the distance on some small rights. It’s a field day for them. We comment on how it’s a good day for bigger boards then question ourselves on the last time we’ve longboarded. 

            We call the morning session early. The plan is to eat and come back for another look.