DAYS OF THE MUSH, FRI12APR2013 MOR

 

Loc: Manhattan Beach

Crew: Cheryl

Conditions: 1-3 FT, sunny, cool, uncrowded.

     I’ve had a hard time waking up early, and I knew the night before that I had to avoid the high tide. I didn’t. I didn’t bother to stop at El Porto on the way to my local spot because I had a feeling that it would be a little crowded. There’s something about my local spot that is just mellower. Sometimes familiar and friendly faces accounts for the decisions you make on where you surf. Being Friday, street parking in Manhattan Beach is a bitch, so I make a couple rounds, desperately looking for an open spot, and praise to the parking gods, I find one on Highland Avenue. I’ve been informed that the meter maids have turned ruthless and show up right at 0800 nowadays, and if I ever got a ticket at the meters I’d never forgive myself, especially since I’m such a cheap motherfucker.

     My jog downhill looks more like a forced strut. I’m hoping that I didn’t entirely miss the better window for surf earlier. As I paddle out, I see Cheryl sitting in the lineup, talking to some old guy. I creep next to her, catching her by surprise. She dismounts her board so we can do an aqua embrace. Really though, we need to learn how to hug on our boards like how the pros do it.

     And . . . fuckin’ A., the surf is MOOSHY. I mean mooshy bad. The waves stand up on the outside, but the second they hit the deeper water on the inside, they just lose steam. Meanwhile, the usual suspects are still able to get some good insiders all the way to shore.

     Since my rides start bogging out, I fuck around, start walking the nose, turning around, and riding the waves backwards; why not. I do get a couple long but weak rides. I’m disappointed that the surf isn’t as good as Wednesday when Bri and Khang were out.

     Cheryl’s on my old Becker Board. I have half the mind to ask if I can sample that old thing. I can’t believe that was once my medium board; it’s a solid 6’10 with a quad setup. I’m so curious to see how I would ride that thing now; I wonder if I’d tear it up. Maybe it could have been a good board for small days, but I hope one day to invest on a fish of my own.

     Cheryl leaves, and I do too about twenty minutes later. I do my best to study for the rest of the day, but I’m so stressed out with school that by time 1800, I have to unwind and hit up some PS3. Word, son.