ALZHEIMER SESSIONS (double sesh), FRI 21SEPT2012 EVE

Loc: Churches & Old Mans

Crew: Bri

Conditions: 2-3 FT, sunny, glassy, a perfect evening.

Dream Conditions:

     “This is rare,” I tell Briana. “It’s rare to surf an evening session without any wind.” The conditions are even glassier than the morning. That pool water effect is happening, when the water’s so still that the light refracts back onto your face like you’re at an indoor pool. The weather the whole day’s been great. Even when we ate and perched at our staycation spot, we didn’t need to be wary about the wind blowing our shit away. Unfortunately, this is the part where my memory fleets me. It’s been two weeks since this session took place, and all I can remember is the morning session. I just looked at my texts from September 21^st, and I can only find references to the morning session. But . . . this is what I can remember.

     Churches has been working all day, even through the high tide during lunch. Now, the size has come down just a little bit as well as its consistency. Briana wants to surf Old Mans, but I convince her to surf at Churches. We sit on the outside towards the south end then work our way towards the top of the wave a little. Middle looks crumbly and so does North Churches. It’s not packed, but there are enough people in the water where it’s a little competitive.

     After a solid hour, I see that Briana’s having a hard time catching waves, not from her ability but from the crowd. I motion for her to catch one in. We head back to the wagon, drink some water, and head to Old Mans.

#

     It’s a hair smaller here, but the crowd’s way mellower. Our spot is the north end of San Onofre, right at the parking lot entrance. From here, Briana gets her fair share of waves. After one of my rides, I find myself standing on the cobblestones towards the inside, walking my way back towards deeper water. Just then, I feel something bite the middle toe on my left foot. “FUCKIN’ BITCH!” I yell. I can’t help it, it’s my auto response. Even though it’s shallow, I hop on my board and paddle away as fast as I can. This is the first time this has happened to me. It’s definitely an unwelcomed feeling. In the lineup, I feel for my toe, checking the skin to see if it’s broken. I can’t tell. I tell Briana about it which freaks her out too. For the remainder of the session, we both avoid touching the bottom as much as possible. It reminds me of Bali after my sea urchin incident. After that, I didn’t push off of the bottom for the rest of the trip, and that’s when I also learned my brother’s “star fish” technique for falling.

     This is all I have for this session. I don’t remember any significant waves. We took our time packing in the dark, and I can’t even remember where we had dinner that night. But, my toe was cut where that mystery critter bit me. I can’t be falling behind on my surf blogs like this. . . . Damn Master’s Program.