ZIPPY’S REVENGE, FRI 28SEPT2012 MOR

LOC: Old Mans

Crew: Bri

Time: 0830-1030

Conditions: 4-5 FT, sunny, light onshore, consistent

     Bri and I are perfecting this whole “Staycation Fridays” thing. We packed the night before, wake up nice and early, and we have a good idea on how much food to buy. After our Vons run, we head straight to San Onofre.

     According to the forecast, it’s supposed to be somewhere around three-to-five feet. I assume that that’s on a generous scale. Instead, I’m expecting it to be around three feet. Really, I don’t care if it’s huge or not, I just want it to at least be three feet, something I can turn on.

     When we exit the 5 South, we see the lines coming in to Lowers. I’m stoked. We drive up to Churches, and my hopes are confirmed. There is swell. We score the same parking spot as the week before. I suggest that we do a little recon before we suit up. 

     It’s not a perfect, cloudless morning with endless blue sky. The sun is hunkered behind some patches of clouds, but we can still see the sky behind them. There’s a gray haze in the air, but it’s mostly attributed to the mist created from the all the water moving around. 

     The wind is still offshore; it’s glassy. We walk in front of Churches, snacking on Bri’s homemade choco-chip cookies. The sets at Churches looks good at five-feet plus, but the tide is making the waves a little funky. They aren’t lining up from the top of the wave all the way to the inside. Some of the bigger waves are sectiony, leaving only the tapered end at the shoulder to guarantee any distance. Still, a lot of in-between waves have better shape. I can’t stop snapping pictures with my phone.

     “Let’s see what Middles is doing,” I say. I used to love Middles. I never used to surf Old Mans. I would usually start off at South Churches and gradually work my way North. If I had no luck there, I’d go to Middles. From there, I’d keep an eye on Lowers to see if anything would swing wide. If waves did, then I’d sit on the south end of that world class break. But on this morning . . . Middles is flat and crumbly. So is North Churches. My beloved left isn’t doing so well, so Trestles is out of the question. On to Old Mans we go.

#

     I bring the JS just in case. I think it would work well at Churches, but since Old Mans is a bit slower, I’m gonna need as much beef as possible.

     This is the Friday for the Don Kadowaki Fish . . . but I don’t . . . fucking . . . have it. Don’t get me wrong; it’s Cheryl’s board. If I really want to surf it again I need to just buy my own.

     Well, so I don’t have the Kadowaki with me. I’ll have to bust out the Zippy.   

     It’s hard to tell what the waves are doing at Old Mans, but we can see peeling white wash at the most crowded peak towards the center of the whole break. Our usual peak is too crowded, and the waves aren’t swinging wide as much. We watch it for a while. Towards the inside there is some shape, and the outside waves are walled. Maybe it’s because of the size, but you have to be at the main peak to catch anything.

     “What about over there?” says Bri.

     I’m proud of her. She points to a peeling, inside left that I already eye-balled when we showed up. The only thing is, on a day when there’s size, the inside waves are gimmes. We need quality rides, outsiders. Some big, clean, soft shoulders are breaking further south, but there are a lot of longboarders there. This swell is obviously no secret, and this place has probably been crowded all week, so we have no choice but to join in.

     We paddle out at the channel. An inside left approaches. It’s three-feet and clean. I try to turn and catch it late, but my timing’s off, so I wipe out. From there, a set starts rolling in. Briana’s gonna make it to the lineup faster than I can. I haven’t brought out the Zippy in juicy surf, so duckdiving it is kind of a bitch. My shoulders are burning from my recent workouts at the gym; I kind of regret not keeping my body fresh for this morning.  

     We’re literally sitting in the channel between crowded peaks to our north and south. I don’t want to compete, but I know I must. It’s just so hard against longboarders. The San O vets know what they’re doing. They’ll take the big ones on their longboards, bottom turn, swing them around, and get LONG ASS RIDES. Bri and I sit a little more towards the inside. I catch a few rides going left, but it’s a helluva wait for anything to break here.

     We hover on the outside of the north peak to no avail. There’s no chance; every wave is taken. However, the break to the south is a little more scattered, so we test our luck there.

Open It Up:

     Things are slow. We can only watch guys on the outside do their thing, but we drift further south which puts us in the midst of some scattered peaks.

     The lineup here is a little crazy. The bomb sets break far . . . really far on the outside, some in the middle, the inside, a little more south, more north. It’s like roulette, where you sit is where you place your chips. Your number might come up or it might not, but you are definitely in the game.

     Sitting here is also a lot of work. Since the peaks are scattered, as well as the lineup, surfers are going in every direction. There’s a lot of maneuvering and duckdiving to prevent our heads from getting chopped off.

     My first juicy left comes my way. It’s just a hair under five-feet. There’s even some marble whitewash and foam mixed in with it from all the water movement. Getting into the wave is so easy. That Zippy has so much volume, and combined with the push of the wave, I’m going faster than expected down the face. I set my rail, crouch low on the bottom turn, and begin to extend my body so I can climb the face. However, the drop’s so fast that I have problems working against the Gs to stand up. Instead, I can’t deviate from the set rail, so I plunge into the face of the wave on the bottom turn. I resurface, knowing that I just blew a good one. I think about that rail. What else do I need to do? Maybe get more on the tail; I need more control.

     I’m better prepared for the next waves. Zippy sure ain’t loose, but it’s working like magic in these big, slopey burgers. I make the section of the next left all the way to the open face. My frontside turns don’t have much arc in them; they end up being more like check-turns off of the lip, but I redirect back down the face with ease and make the next section. I feel I can get anything on this board in these conditions, just as much as the longboarders.

     It’s an inconsistent morning because of the crowds and possibilities of where the waves might break, but every so often a peak swings within paddle-reach of me and Briana.

     We separate for a while and sit in different spots. I see her paddling back from the inside every time I look in her direction. Into the second hour, we reunite and she says, “I’m actually going down the line now!”

     I’m glad she’s getting this experience. Even though there is size, these waves are so forgiving and manageable that it’s hard not to find yourself in the open face.

     The onshore wind picks up, and the high tide thins out the crowd. Bri and I now sit at the main peak, hoping to catch a random bomb. I pick up a conversation between two old longboarders.

Man: “Where do you live?”

Woman: “Chino.”

Man: “Wow, Chino! So you’re pretty dedicated. What’s the closest break to you?”

Woman: “Probably Huntington, Newport.”

Man: “Yeah. It just gets so crowded here. I don’t even surf the summers anymore, can’t do it.”

     I’m thinking how much it must suck to make that drive from Chino to the beach.

     Even though the crowd cleared out, it’s still hard to get good position. There are still more surfers than there are waves, and I’m so deep on some of the set-waves that I absolutely cannot make the section.

     I have a chance on one, but this noob drops in on me. I yell, “Whoa!”

     He tries to pull back and says, “SHIT, SORRY!” He purls right in front of me, so I have to straighten out.

     The funny thing is, I’m not mad at all. The guy was sorry, and I could tell he was genuine about it. I pay him no mind back at the lineup.

     Now the wind and the tide are too much. We paddle back towards the channel and catch inside waves to end the morning session.

     Back at the staycation site, Churches is still firing, even through the high tide. The south end is working with set waves breaking far out, leaving rides up for grabs for those sitting on the inside. Some of them are sectiony, giving waiting surfers a chance to intercept the wave.

     Bri and I lay out our beach blanket and kill off our food. We both fool ourselves thinking we can study or write, but again, this place is too beautiful to ignore. The only thing that sucks is that it’s much windier than last week.