Time: 0630-0830, 2 hrs
Conditions: 4 ft, high tide, variable wind, long racy peaks, not much shape.
According to surfline Friday’s surf is supposed to be good. Excited with the forecast, I shot a message out to everyone to see if they were paddling out too. A good handful of people said that they’d be down, so I went to sleep with the expectation of scoring some waves before my trip to San Fran.
I wake up at 0530 and change into my wetsuit in the middle of my living room. This morning has to be a fast and early session because Lauren and I have to leave to San Fran ASAP. The airplanes are louder than usual this morning. I grab my gear, open the door, and find my car blocked in by the El Segundo Fire Department.
This defeats the purposes of waking up early, but at the same time I hate to think of anyone seriously hurt this early in the morning. I start my car, sit, and wait until those guys move their vehicles out of the way. It’s only minutes after 0600 once I get to Parks, but I forget that street cleaning is on Fridays. I have to drive around in circles until I find a spot that’s good until 0900. I can’t see the water from where I am, but the wind feels like it’s offshore. It’s a gloomy morning, and once I get to the sand I see that there aren’t many surfers in the water yet. So far, the waves are a bit disappointing. It’s not high tide yet, but the waves seem more on the mooshy side. The peaks (again) are long and racy with a fast shoulder. It’s not a terrible morning for surf but it’s not the scattered, peaky conditions I hoped for. I see a guy walking with a rising sun design on his board. Looks kind of like Klaude’s board. As I approach I realize that it is Klaude. I’m hella surprised to see him this early and by himself. I call his name until I’m close enough for him to hear me, and then he says, “I thought you said first light?”
We paddle out in front of the tower. I pass on a bunch of waves that close out and wait for something with shape. Just then I hear someone else yell my name. I look to the south and see that Francis is already out here. I guess I’m the late jackass this morning. Klaude’s paddling, returning from his ride. I signal to him that Francis is here. Klaude turns his head and says, “Whoa!” and then he paddles up to me and says, “Francis just got barreled.” I’d be a liar if I didn’t express my jealousy every time I hear or see one of my buddies get barreled. I want it so bad that I’m turning it into Pussylioth. Don’t get me wrong. I’m stoked for my friends when they get good waves, but being barreled has been one of my long time goals that’s so far eluded me.
Klaude’s friend, local vet Roy, even paddles up and says, “Klaude, your buddy just got a pretty sick right.”
At this point the wind completely changes. It goes from light offshore to slight sideshore and then to powerful sideshore. The wind is so strong that it’s forming a dust cloud over the sand. The waves start to get knocked down even faster which batters the shape even more. After about ten to fifteen minutes the wind calms down a bit, and then CC shows up. It’s odd seeing both Klaude and CC on a weekday morning, but Klaude sacrifices some office hours to be here while CC has the Veterans Day off. As she paddles up I explain that she just missed the gnarly wind. Klaude keeps looking out to see if Khang’s showing up, but I don’t think he’s missing much.
Despite the conditions, some waves do hold shape. Roy tells Klaude that he got a couple hits off a good right. From what I can see, Klaude’s going through the same thing I am; our waves are running away leaving us with only whitewash to catch. I manage to paddle in to the shoulder on a fast right. I’m surprised that I have a section to bottom turn on and set up for a top turn. As my board slides over the lip, the wave jacks up, throws me in mid-air, and it pitches over. I hit the water before my board does, and I’m grateful that I don’t hit it on the way down. That’s my wave of the day. I paddle away from the main pack and sit by myself for a while, but it doesn’t make a difference. As it nears eight o’clock, Francis has to leave for work. Klaude and I agree to leave at the same time, but CC follows us out and gives me a Veterans Day card that one of her students made. I thank her and tell them that I’ll see them when I get back.
The Trip:
Lauren got home late last night around 0300, so she woke up late this morning. I pack my things while she heads out to do a load of laundry. Initially, I’m grumpy at our late start, but I try to mellow myself out before I turn into the asshole boyfriend that I’m so good at being. It’s about 1130 when we’re all loaded up and ready to leave. It’s been a while since we’ve had quality time with each other, so I suggest that we not rush and grab some breakfast before we go. We stop at Mandy’s Family Restaurant in El Segundo for a bite. I love this place; a lot of Gundo old timers come here to eat. The same workers are here all the time and their service is great. After some pancakes, eggs, potatoes, bacon, and sausage, our combined bill comes out to eight bucks and some change. How can you beat that?
We stop at the Blue Butterfly for some java and hit the road. It’s smooth sailing all the way past Six Flags. The furthest north I’ve ever driven was Sacramento for my cousin’s wedding, and that was years ago. This drive to San Fran will be just as far, and I do horrible on long drives. We’re still an hour short of the 152W to Gilroy when the clouds start getting dark and the drizzling starts. Once we’re on the 152 it’s full blown rain. People are still driving like assholes despite the slick roads; this blows my mind. As the sky grows darker my driving becomes more cautious. The rain seems to let up, but as we pass San Jose the rain picks up again with heaver traffic on the road. By now my road hypnosis sets in. I’ve been driving for over five straight hours, I can’t see shit, and I’m too paranoid to change lanes.
Once we hit Pacifica, the traffic thins out. To my west is nothing but black, and Lauren says that the ocean is right over there. As we near our destination, I can see the residential lights of West San Francisco. The rain has stopped, the wet roads reflect the city lights, and the air is still and freezing. We have reservations at the Oceanview Motel. It’s eighty-five bucks a night, but we chose this location because it’s right across the street from the surf. I’m not sure what to think of this area. It’s so quiet, but the Java Beach Café around the corner still has some nightlife going on inside of it. A street car’s endpoint is at the same corner too, and it sits stationary and completely empty. We park around the corner and check-in. Our room is big enough for two people. There’s cable TV, free WiFi, a microwave, and a mini fridge. Most hotels don’t even have a fridge, so this is pretty nice.
We’re drained from the drive but also hungry. We venture up the street and pass random businesses: Indian cuisine, Italian & Indian Cuisine, closed Chinese restaurants, kung fu school, a couple pubs, lots of cafes, and late night Thai food. A street car empties out close by releasing about a dozen people. Some have groceries in hand, there are some couples, and small groups just walk off in every direction like their presence is needed elsewhere. This place strikes me as a pedestrian friendly town since the public transportation seems so convenient. It’s a sharp contrast from LA where everyone drives and where the site of so many people “footing it” is so rare. Another difference in the atmosphere is that we’re in a residential area, but there are still so many businesses open amongst it.
We decide to eat at a small, hole-in-the-wall, Thai restaurant. It’s candle lit with only two other tables taken. The tom-yum-noodle soup is perfect for the cold, and our rice dishes have us talking like we’re “sold” on San Fran. After we eat, we go to the corner liquor store which is more like a mini grocery mart. It’s convenient for the neighborhood, and pictures are posted above the counter of the many patrons that must frequent the place regularly. We spot a monkey beanie that we resist buying and agree to get it if it’s still here on our last day.
When we get back to the hotel I call Cosmic John to let him know we’re in town. He suggests getting to the event right when it starts. “Basically, we’re throwing one big party,” he says. I tell him we’ll see him, and then we get ready for bed. The long day has us both dozing off. I don’t know how I’ll muster the energy to surf, but so far we’re stoked just to have made it.
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