TRESTLES SURGICAL STRIKE IV, SAT02MAR2013 A-NOON

 

Loc: North Churches to Middles

Time: 1300-1530

Crew: Hideki, Klaude, Khang & Dais

Conditions: 3-4 FT, sunny, cold water, uber consistent.

     We abandon the campsite and relocate in front of Churches. Khang had initially planned on leaving early, saying that the conditions were deteriorating, but right now, just a little after twelve thirty, we’re standing in front of rights going unridden. The top, of the wave is breaking, and even there, there aren’t so many people. Nope, Khang . . . you ain’t going nowhere. . . . At the suggestion of waiting it out a little, Khang says, “Let’s paddle out now, it’s good right now!”

     How rare is this? Yes, exactly. Out of all the Dump Rider Crew camping trips that we’ve organized, only half of them were total scores, with good surf the whole time. This is a rarity. I have surfed Trestles better but this is the best that I’ve seen this place with the homies.

     Vertra, wax, wetsuits, leashes. Bri says her knee hurts, so she’s gonna take a nap on the sand. Even though there is surf right in front of us, the group decides to head back to our spot from this morning. Will lightning strike twice?

     Again, we paddle out, the same spot. Again, there is one dude on it, and we crowd his space. Then . . . fuck, I paddle deep towards his inside. He had just missed the wave before, but now the second wave of the set is approaching. We both paddle for it. He watches, waiting to see if I’ll fall, but I

Pop up

Shit

Fuck

I’m going down the line

So nice

The face is long

I climb and do a relaxed arc

Redirecting my board at mid face

Pumping again

Turning again

Smooth, without a worry, like this wave is meant for me

I end the ride on the inside with a baby turn and kick out

     clean.

Not bad for a first ride.

     We all get a couple, until . . . we sell it, and this time, there are repercussions. Literally, our spot is blown up. Mons Pubis never gets this crowded. At the top of the wave at Churches, there are only a couple people. Is it really breaking that much better over here? I could paddle further south, but fuck this; we were here first.

     I’m going for a left, and there’s this guy on my outside. We are pretty much calf to calf, both going for this wave. My testosterone kicks in.

I hate this guy

Fuck this guy

He’s not going to get

My wave

I’m scratching and kicking with J.O.B. intentions, and I pop up, he backs off, and the wave closes out. Yup . . . all of that for a fucking closeout.

     Instead of catching waves, most of us have to back out of them. I see Klaude, straight up in front of the whole lineup, just paddle and drop in on this guy going right. FUCK it was bad. Of course I don’t tell Klaude this. Klaude pretty much does a cannon ball in front of this guy. You see, his wave is really racy. Klaude can’t kick out over it, even I wouldn’t have been able to. So really, Klaude only does have one choice. If he straightens out, he cuts the guy off. He chooses to bail into the face.

     Some guy paddles by me and gives me that look that says, “Fuck, did you see that?”

     The guy Klaude dropped in on ended up going around him and still making it down the line. Klaude slipped away unscathed, and no harsh words were exchanged. Cool.

     Khang decides to sit at the new peak that is consistently breaking towards the center of Middles. I watch him, and he’s competing with a bunch of surfers, a lot on longboards, and some guy on a fish. He has to constantly pull out. I don’t bother; I know I won’t catch shit there.

     Hideki, Dais, and KK sit a little more towards Churches, just south of Mons Pubis. I sit in between them.

     The crowd gradually drifts more north towards Khang, while I’m in a gap with just a couple heads. It’s inconsistent. I paddle closer to Churches. Just then, an outside set approaches. There’s an SUP guy there. He catches the first one. I paddle my ass off to the outside, just swinging around the shoulder before it breaks. As I’m dropping in, I see the SUP down the line, sliding into the same wave. I pump, catch up to him, give out a loud, “Wooooh!” and he kicks out. It’s a solid four feet. I pump . . .

     And then these details get blurry. I just remember that the surf was the biggest it was the whole trip on this afternoon. I got some big rights, just paddling in perfect on the shoulder and then bottom turning and winding up on the snap (If anything, I have to be honest that on my CI Motorboat Too, it works great, but the turns aren’t as snappy as when I’m on my thruster.). I’m getting at least two turns on every wave. Towards the inside, I’m going down another right. Klaude is in my line, so I do a cutback to get some space. When I pass him, we exchange a glance, both sharing the moment. Then Klaude paddles into the wave right after mine, a perfect right. I’m cheering him on as I have him in full view, mouth open, eyes wide, paddling, and dropping in smoothly. There’s stoked energy all around.

     The crowd is so thin and spread out where we are that there is an abundance of untouched waves.

    

     I surf until I’m shivering cold. Still, the rest of the boys are going for it. I’m the first one to call it quits after my last wave. When I get back, I find Bri reading a surf magazine and Rick suiting up.

     I say hi to Bri then walk up to Rick. “You made it!” I say.

     “Yeah!” He walks over to a surfboard by the tree. “Jimmy got me this board for a birthday present, it just got done today!” Jimmy had told me about this earlier.

     I tell Rick where the boys are surfing at, and then he makes his way out to the lineup. Bri and I chill out, watching the surf. I can’t believe that so many waves are still coming in, still unridden, breaking too far towards the outside. Even wide south on the inside, only three guys are there.

     The rest of the guys trickle in one by one. Khang loads up his Bang Bus van and rolls, Hideki stays behind to join Bri and me for dinner, and we just catch Rick as he comes out of the water. He says he had a tough time with the crowd because he doesn’t have his new board dialed in yet. “It’s not like the fish,” he says. 

     At Zenko sushi, Bri, Hideki, and I power eat for about two hours. Afterwards, Bri and I still get home at a reasonable time, but are exhausted. Lying in bed, I think about the last couple days, how we scored, and how successful this surgical strike was. I mean, literally in and out. This rarely happens for a last minute trip to go this well. And then I think to myself, how am I gonna write all of this?

     Then I get a blowjob.

     “Slurp, slurp, slurp.”