Loc: North
Churches
Crew: Solo
Conditions:
2-4 FT, warm, sunny, light wind, clean, uncrowded, lined.
Unlike yesterday, I wake up to good
weather. Even though the water’s calm, the waves aren’t breaking like typical
Churches; those long, peeling rights aren’t peeling. I talk to the guy parked
next to me.
“Yeah,” he says, “it looks all right out
there, but . . . it’s just a little more ‘lined’ than we like it to be.”
I head back to the Mons and paddle back out
at the same spot where I had scored yesterday evening. I catch some waves, and
. . . just about all of them are closeouts. Yup, even this world class break
that I love so much.
I can tell you how awesome it is to be out
here, to say, “Fuck it, I’m not gonna sleep in my bed tonight. I’m gonna go to
the beach, surf, and do my homework there too!” Well, that’s the ideal and the
romanticized image that I’d like to portray, but there’s nothing ideal about
heading back to your car, defeated, after getting skunked.
I head to the showers and shampoo my ass
for the first time since Tuesday morning. Fully dressed with teeth flossed,
dressed from head to toe, there is still a transient-like quality about my
appearance. The tan on my neckline makes my face look like it belongs on
another body. My eyes are red from the saltwater, and sleeping in my wagon for
two nights has me walking a little stooped and slower than usual. I hit the 405
North with the music blasting and my shades on. I look forward to sleeping on
my bed again and ravaging the food in my fridge. I think I still have some ice
cream left. My first class starts at 1530, but my day already started long ago.
Despite the skunk, there is still no better way to start a day.
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