BOLSA IS WORKING, WED10JULY2013 MOR

This is actually Golden West. Very sectiony.

Loc: Bolsa Chica

Crew: Bri

Conditions: 2-4 FT, inconsistent, peaky, light onshore, strong current.

     I can’t tell you how much the local sandbars have been working lately, but there is zero NW or W windswell, and without them, the surf here is flat. Since there’s a little south swell in the mix, I have to travel to surf. It’s a must.

     I had bought a state parking pass when I attended Pablo’s AKA Pabs’ (R.I.P) paddle out, and since then I’ve barely used this two-hundred dollar investment, an investment that has not paid for itself yet, so on this morning Bri and I head to North Huntington.

     Traffic on the 405 South is thick, so I exit Bolsa and take PCH to my favorite, HB surf break. When we arrive, we’re quite disappointed. The current is strong. Two surfers in front of us drift to the lifeguard tower to our north within minutes; they’re still trying to get past the inside. Four-foot waves break, but there is south wind, and it makes the shape sectiony and walled. The River Jetties don’t look any better. Fuckin’ A. Skunked again at this spot. It seems like ages ago that Francis and I had scored here; we used to consistently. Talking about it now is like talking about breaks that used to work in the 80s, long since abandoned.

     The South Bay has a lot of history of breaks that used to break in between El Porto and Venice, breaks that only a small handful of guys can be seen sitting at while driving on Vista Del Mar.

     So what happened to this place? I just haven’t seen it good in a long time.

     From here we go to Golden West. The wind has less of an effect on the water, but . . . the waves are still on the walled side. Size is one thing, but shape, shape gives me a chance to at least get a turn in. I didn’t come here to go straight, and even though my mind is more open to barrel attempts, the waves don’t look good for it.

Back Where We Started:

     How many times have I driven around only to return to the spot that I had checked out first? This is a surfer’s frustration. Bri and I are at Bolsa Chica, Tower Twenty. A lot of longboarders are out, all paddling south to fight the current. The surf looks a little better than earlier but not by that much. A peak breaks close to the inside. A longboarder catches it, taking a short ride to shore. “Well,” I say. “We came here to get wet. Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

     Surfline said that the water temp has recently dropped, and they’re right. Stepping into the water is reminiscent of December at Porto. I look back at Bri, and she gives me a look that agrees. At least we were smart enough to bring wetsuits.

     I have to duckdive a couple of waves on the way out. I tell Bri to keep an eye on Tower Twenty and to try and stay south of it. A longboarder catches a long right on the outside. A minute later, Bri paddles into a left, but that same longboarder back paddles her and calls her off of the wave.    

     Bri comes back and says, “That guy was gonna run me over.”

     “Well . . . unfortunately not everyone shares,” I say.

     “That’s why I like Manhattan Beach.”

Classic:

     Who knew that classic HB peaks still exist? They’re just not breaking in HB, they’re breaking at Bolsa. I used to see these peaks at my other, south HB spot, but they’re here. On the outside, a stand-alone A-frame builds. It looks like a small bump, but I know these sand bars. As it approaches, it begins to stand up. I position myself perfectly on what looks like the shoulder, but it stands up so fast that the shoulder shifts, leaving me with a fast drop. This wave is different from Trestles because it’s faster and stands up more, which makes the drop more critical, but the shape holds. I have so much momentum going into the turn that my frontside carve, carves itself. In other words, momentum is in such abundance that my efforts to turn the board are minimum; all I have to do is not fall.

     Speed, accentuation, and power are this wave’s signature. I pump my way down the line and get two, deep carves. Finally, a successful session in the OC.

     But there’s still the current to deal with. I’m raping the waves for their lefts, but they dump me off further north in the direction of the current. I fight my way back from the north side of the tower to the south; that’s where the good peaks are. Other surfers too are fighting the current, but most of them are longboarders and make the distance with ease. Some of them still go in and do what my brother calls “the carousel,” walking on the shore to paddle out again. My Lost board has enough volume to make the fight a little easier. Yup, this all around board, I tell ya. It’s good for everything.

     Bri doesn’t fail to surprise me again. There’s this A-frame, and she’s in position for the peak. She doesn’t know this wave, how it stands up so fast when it hits the sandbar. With her board angled towards the left, she paddles into it at its most critical part. She’s gonna be late. I know she is. I think she is, but . . . she defies my judgment; she’s early. She slides down the face of the wave at an angle well before the wave can lip-launch her. Taking advantage of the board’s length, she glides to safety on the face of the wave, to the shoulder, and then to the shore.

     My rights aren’t too impressive today. Maybe it’s the direction of the swell, but the rights aren’t lining up as well. The shoulders moosh out, so I do these kamikaze turns where I try to gouge the shoulder, knowing that I’ll end up falling off of my board. But the lefts, the lefts are so fun. Even on a sectiony one, I make the drop, climb the face, and do a floater towards the shore on the closeout section. It’s not a pretty floater, but it’s better than bailing like I used to.

     With the tide coming up, the surf turns more inconsistent, but the current is still strong. Bri paddles up to me and says that her arms are tired, so she goes in. I wait for my last wave, which ends up being a closeout. Oh well.

     We surfed a solid, two-hour session and scored good surf in North Orange County, closer than going all the way to San O. We ride back, silent and satisfied. I’m stoked that we scored, got to use my parking pass, and to see how Bri is progressing quickly. 

     At home, we pull out the bed and spend the rest of the day catching up to Game of Thrones. It’s a lazy day that began with surf and ends with cuddling in front of the TV. When I had told Klaude about my lazy days since returning from Java, he said, “It’s summer. Enjoy it while you can.” Klaude, I am. . .