THE RELEASE PT.8, MON 14MAY2012 MOR

Location: Churches to Middles

Crew: Solo

Conditions: 5 FT+, glassy, clean, inconsistent, sunny, warm.

     My breath smells like rotten pizza, so I walk to the bathrooms and brush my teeth before I start my morning. I drive back to my favorite spot under the tree in front of Churches. It’s just past 0500, and the ocean is so dark that I can’t tell if it’s good or not. I open the box and eat the last slice and then gulp some water down. Even though it’s only sixty degrees, it feels colder. As the sky to the east turns light blue, I see the first signs of life from the ocean. The water is glassy and smooth. There’s something desolate in its appearance. It’s Monday . . . there shouldn’t be a crowd.

     There isn’t a cloud in the sky, and I begin to suit up as the sun peaks over the horizon. I hear white-noise from the inside while I change behind the car. I walk around and see the first set break. The right-hand peak at the middle of the wave is peeling, as well as the southern-most peak at the bottom, both unridden. Three longboarders start to paddle and head to the top. I lock the car and warm up.

#

     Whenever I paddle out at Churches, I start at the bottom of the wave and work my way to the top. Also, it’s easier to paddle out from there. The San Onofre state parking lot starts to fill, and I can see longboarders making their trek in the distance.

     Nothing breaks at the bottom of the wave. Actually, it seems that nothing is breaking at all. Longboarders are even scratching out at the middle of the wave. I make a gradual approach until I’m all the way at the top amongst a small group of dawn patrollers. Upon seeing that first set of the morning, I had text’d Rick, Francis, and Klaude that it was “firing.” I wonder how accurate that is now, as nothing’s breaking. A small bump approaches, concealing the horizon as it moves through. As soon as it passes, a monster bump appears on the outside. Oh fuck. Our group turns into a clusterfuck of paddling and clamoring. Everyone’s caught by surprise. I duck dive the first, second, and third wave. Still, the waves are coming. I put myself in position for the last five-foot wave. It’s big, but it’s fat and mooshy, but the drop is still fast. Instead of carving off the top, I pump, trying to get some distance on the ride, but the wave doesn’t line up, and I top-turn under the lip before it closes.

     When I resurface to paddle back, no one’s at the lineup. Everyone’s scattered, and fighting through the whitewash on the inside. This is a good sign. It’s not gonna be a flat day.

    

     Even though there are some juicy sets, they are a bit inconsistent. What I don’t like about inconsistent days is that they allow every surfer to get into position. No one catches waves and everyone waits in place. But when the waves are consistent, they shift everyone. I love those days.

     I try to predict the sets, and paddle towards the outside after every hump, hoping to see monsters on the horizon. My predictions are off most of the time. Sitting in the lineup almost becomes a game of who’s psychic and who’s not. On the next crawl to the outside, a random wall starts to build. I know I have it. I crept to the outside in the most unsuspecting manner possible. It’s a clean peak with a smooth, glassy face. Those on the inside watch as I slide down, but the wave’s a little soft, not meant for nasty hacks off the lip. Still, I try, turning but making sure I don’t go over the top on accident. I pump, trim, walk the nose, and fall on the spin.

#

     There are some set waves that have more punch. I manage to get one good turn off the lip before a wave closes, but I can’t tell if I get spray or not.

     The morning’s weird: long, impatient lulls which bring you to the verge of paddling in, and then a five-to-six wave set that breaks far on the outside. So many of us are caught by them. On the inside, two chicks are getting pounded. A younger one on a short board turtle dives under a roaring wall of white. After a couple seconds, her board gets spat out from the top. An older longboarder chick next to her completely ditches her board. She slides off, pinches her nose, and dives straight under. I’m thinking how dangerous this is for the both of them, especially because they’re so close. Even though the shortboarder’s hot, I paddle by her without even looking. I’m turned off by her inability to punch through and for her failure to at least attempt to do it right. You don’t turtle dive a shortboard. . . .

     Back at the lineup, the sea calms. The shortboarder chick is back on the shore, going home defeated. The morning crowd thickens, so I decide to paddle towards Lowers.

     I’m just outside of Churches and entering Middles when I get caught too deep for a peak. Surprised, I paddle outside to get one of the set waves. I haven’t surfed Middles in a while, and I’m surprised that something’s breaking here. It’s my first left of the morning that’s a good four-feet. As it meets another section to closeout, I bottom turn and carve the face before the lip comes down. I fall after the carve. I know in my heart that this should be a layback snap. I need to learn how to come out of these.

     I’m thinking that Middles has turned on, but another lull hits, so I head straight to Lowers.

#

     I expected a thin crowd for Monday, but it’s the most crowded I’ve seen Lowers since Thursday. The top of Lowers is working like a machine. Set waves are coming in at five-feet. Even the inside of Lowers is consistent, but there are so many goddam surfers. The lineup is colorful with red, pink, and green wetsuits. Nothing is breaking wide. It’s all one big A-frame. Anything breaking wide is an illusion with already someone on it from the top. I stop my headcount at thirty-eight because people are still filing in. I sit wide and eventually sit closer to the main pack, but it’s too competitive. It’s the biggest mistake of the trip; I catch nothing here. I tuck my tail between my legs and head back to the cliffs north of Middles. There are some waves here, but they aren’t lined-up as nice. Most of them are long, racy peaks without faces to work with. It’s 1000, it’s sunny, and I’m burning up in my wetsuit. I’ve surfed for four hours; I’m starving. 

#

     Walking back to the wagon, I see a set working at Churches. I should’ve stayed there. Yeah, the lulls were long, but it was still working when I left. Bad move. The conditions are still clean. I grab my phone and snap a picture in front of the wagon. The lowering tide took away some of the size, but it still looks fun.

     

     After I clean up, I head to La Tiendita for some Mexican food. I order the machaca plate which is only $5.95 and a horchata. It’s a lot of food for a good price.

     Back at the wagon, I have another decision to make. Tonight’s game 1 of the Lakers versus Thunder series. 

     “You can’t miss game 1,” is what Klaude said last night. “It’s gonna be epic.”

     I debate on pulling an evening session at Lowers or catching the game. Under my favorite spot under the tree, I crack the windows and lie down for a nap. Full and exhausted, I fall asleep.