NO CROWD, NO PROBLEM, SUN 05FEB2012 MOR

Loc: Huntington Beach

Crew: Shan

Time: 0800-1030

Conditions: High to mid tide, mixed conditions with walls and shoulders, 3-4 ft, inconsistent, and EMPTY!

     Gas isn’t cheap nowadays, so I’ve cut down a little on the surf trips. However, I planned to surf HB on Sunday since the swell was increasing another foot. Even though Manhattan Beach was supposed to be bigger, I didn’t want to deal with the bigger crowds. Also, I’m tired of riding walls; I need some turns in my life.

     I send out the bat signal Saturday night. Klaude says he’s staying local to coach a basketball game. Khang and DK are in San Diego for a Super Bowl party. Francis is up north. Rick can’t go, and Dais is going to Santa Barbara with his girlfriend. Cheryl shoots me a text, asking where I’m gonna surf. I extend the invite, but she says, “Thanks for the offer. I think I’ll stay local. Huntington’s waves are so fast.” I missed Shan’s call on Friday, so I call him to see if he’s free.

     It’s 0715 when I pick him up. He’s living in his RV for the weekend that’s parked off of Rosecrans. I can’t remember the last time I surfed with Shan, but a lot has changed since then. We catch up with each other. He tells me about Veronica, and I tell him how Lauren and I are doing. He also fills me on his photography travels. Over the last couple months he’s surfed Honolua Bay and Pipe. 

     Turns out Shan bought an RV, the ultimate SBV (Surf Bum Vehicle). He says he’s taken it up north and surfed different spots along PCH, but that he hasn’t surfed in three weeks. I admit that I contemplated buying an RV when I was in Iraq, and in a way . . . I’m jealous. And then again, I do like space. There’s something about cooking eggs and bacon, butt naked in a big kitchen, with your balls hanging out that spells: FREEDOM.

    

     I brag about the state parking pass that I bought, but as we drive closer to the entrance, we notice that all the lots are packed with cars. They’ve even put a LOT FULL sign on the street. The state employee tells us there’s a marathon, and that all the lots are closed. So far for the parking pass. 

     Keeping stride, we park a couple blocks away. There’s no rush because we need the tide to go down. It feels like an easy Sunday. Like last week, there’s only a faint hint of offshore wind. The sun’s out, and it’s warm. Shan still ops to put on his booties and gloves. I imagine what my brother would have said at the sight of that. 

     My expectations are low. Even though we’re not at the water yet, I have a feeling that it’s not as congested as the South Bay. As soon as we hump over the sand, we see a vast and empty lineup. There are a few heads at the river jetties and a few dots north. The lot closure and marathon interferes with parking so much that it keeps the surfers away. We watch the water for a bit. The peaks are scattered, not making one spot standout more than the other. Unfortunately, the waves don’t have their peaky, defined, HB signature because they’re a little walled, but they still have corners at the end; you just need to be in the right place.  

     When we get to the lineup we notice we’ve drifted. “Watch the current,” I tell Shan. He hasn’t surfed for three weeks, so he’s in for a workout. 

     The tide keeps the waves from standing up. My timing’s off on my first attempts, scratching-out because I’m not deep enough, and then there’s a lull. “It was bigger when we first got here,” says Shan, but I have to remain optimistic. I’m sure there’s something. It’s inconsistent, but the first pulse comes. I get on the shoulder for a decent left. No turns yet, just trimming. A half-hour later is when the window starts to open. I get the jump on an outside wave, and I’m right on the shoulder before it jacks up. It’s four-feet, and four-feet at HB is fast. I do a small turn and set myself up for a carve. The extra foot makes a difference, as I’m bracing a lot of momentum going back up the face. I start my downturn onto the shoulder, but it’s a little too vertical. I lose balance from the speed and fall backwards, keeping my feet on the board. It looks like a deflated layback snap. Only if I knew how to shift my weight better, the potential for this rippable wave is unreal. 

     Shan and I spend most of the morning apart. I use the current as exercise, staying in front of our assigned tower. Other surfers pass by, letting the current take them. Shan’s trying. He’s paddling, but every time a wave comes our distance increases. I let him have a couple. I pass up my priority and tell him to go. He scratches out or waits too late. “I’m still trying to figure this place out,” he says. When I first surfed here I got my ass kicked, plenty. This is a different wave, so I understand. 

     The offshores are helping. I catch a right which is a pure wall, but the wind is holding it up. I climb the face twice, doing shallow little hacks on the lip. 

     My wave of the day is a really long right. No bullshit, like five baby turns all the way to shore. I don’t want to exaggerate. It’s just under four feet, and my turns are small because I keep expecting to bog out, but I don’t. Usually I try to put a little English on my backhand to throw a little spray, but I’m more surprised that the wave is pushing me down the line and that I’m not stalling over the lip. It’s a lazy effort on my part, probably due to having the place to ourselves. In a way it’s refreshing—no crowd, no pressure, no rush, just fun.

     At about 1000 the wind switches to onshore, but it’s still light. It’s the lowering tide that affects the shape. Walking back to the car, we see surfers just arriving. Shan and I are lucky we caught the right window.

     We head up the street for some chicken pho that’s only $3.50. We also order a side of spring rolls, and the bill is barely over ten bucks. Shan spots since I drove. When I drop him off, he invites me in his RV for a beer. I awake hours later, naked, with a sore anus. Actually, that part’s not true.    

     Klaude calls me later and says he got a couple long rides at 26^th. Rick says that the shape was good at Porto, but that it was a zoo. Right now, what I need from surfing is isolation and peace. HB gives me just that. Also, the shape helps. It was a good call.