SAME PLACE DIFFERENT WAVE (double), THU 14NOV2013

Loc: Huntington Beach

Time: 0800-1000

Conditions: 2-3 FT, sunny, glassy, inconsistent, walled

Traffic:

     Yesterday morning on Wednesday, I was listening to some Zapp and Roger on my Pandora. As I passed the 605 freeway, the music brought back teenage memories I haven’t thought of in a while. I remembered how my friends would pile in my duplex apartment while my mom was at work. My L.A. friends who were in high school would ditch at my house. I had a living room full of kids in size 42 pants and long, striped tagger T-shirts. They were all tag bangers and soon-to-be gang members. The memory brought some laughs and a chill of shame at the same time—the stupid things we do when we’re kids, and then . . . I looked up and saw that I had missed my exit. The traffic towards HB slowed down to half of the speed that I had been traveling. Fuck.

     As I passed the Bolsa Chica exit, I thought about swinging towards it really quick, but I decided to gamble to going a little further south and taking a different beach exit.

     Traffic came to a halt, and then I rode the brakes for the rest of the ride. I fucked up. Next time, I need to just take PCH. That and I need to stop day dreaming while driving (DWDD).

     I made it to my surf spot. It was already 0845, and . . . the conditions were wonderful: offshore, glassy, hot, but the waves on that new swell were coming in a little walled. Even though I had scored at this very spot last week, it was hard to believe it looking at the surf that moment. It was only two-feet plus and sectiony.

     On the way to school, PCH was closed at the bridge, entering Seal Beach. Every car had to turn around. After my morning in traffic, I figured that the universe had it in for me that morning, so I made the best of it and had breakfast at a café. 

     I did my homework at Starbucks and even checked Bolsa in the late afternoon. The wind had picked up, and the surf was drained out anyway. Even thought I didn’t surf, I felt tired just from the traffic and roadblocks.

Yesterday:

     Now I’m on 2^nd street heading towards PCH at 0730. I figure I’ll be in the water by 0800, but as soon as I make the left onto PCH, traffic is gridlocked. What the fuck. A half hour later, I reach the malfunctioning traffic light that only lets a few cars through at a time as it blinks red. Lesson learned. Freeway or PCH, I have to get here earlier if I want to beat traffic.

     When I park, I don’t even take my walk to the shore to check the surf. I change, slap on some Vertra, and head out. It’s now 0815, and I have to be out of the water by 1000.

     Looking out at the surf, I can see the tide is just too high right now. Also, the waves are coming in a little too lined, and only some of them offer a racy section at the end.

     I paddle out, and when I reach the lineup I see that the north current has already taken me south, half way towards the next tower.

     Despite the lack of shape, I get two waves immediately. They are short, walled rides, but it’s enough to sell my spot. Another surfer further south paddles towards me to sit nearby.

     I really want a left, but I notice today’s lefts are too sectiony and closing. A peak sprouts to my north, so I chase it down. I’m a little deep, but my quad setup helps me make the first section. From my backhand, looking over my right shoulder, I see the face holding shape. It’s a smooth shoulder that’s standing up, dull and moundy at the top, but a perfect canvas for snapping. I get my first turn, hearing the splash out the back, and reenter with speed. I connect a second snap, also seeing the other guys in the lineup watching. It’s my wave of the morning.

     After that, other guys paddle to my spot, but the current’s so strong that they end up fading away regardless. For the rest of the session, I struggle to connect two turns.

     At 1000 I catch a wave in. When I turn around, I see that the lowering tide isn’t necessarily helping the surf, but I’m glad that I had at least caught one good wave.

SCATTERED AND FAST

Loc: Manhattan Beach

Crew: Bri

Time: 1545-1715

26^th Evening:

     Bri tells me that when she stopped by the beach yesterday that Marine was working at low tide. So even though we had planned to go to the gym this evening, we load up the boards and head to Manhattan Beach.

     First we drive through Porto. It’s 1530. The surf looks drained out from the low tide, but the water is just so clean. It’s a hot ass day. The sun gleams over the glassy horizon, blazing a golden shine in the ocean like a road to the end of the earth. Surfers are in the lineup, and even though they’re riding the waves straight, they appear to be stoked just to be wet.

     From here, we head to 26^th Street and find free parking. The surf here doesn’t look much better, but there are only four guys out. Lines are coming in, so the potential of the building swell is undeniable, but the tide is still drained. “It might get better,” I say to Bri. “With the tide push.” I look at my watch. 1545. “It should get better within the hour.”

     So we change, and just as we’re making our way to the sand, some groms starts infiltrating down the hill. The 26^th Street tower has about ten guys on it now, so Bri and I paddle out south just a little before Marine. If I can get one turn this session, it will be worth it.

     Even though it’s drained, long peaks are rolling in consistently. They had looked walled from the shore, but I see a fast left coming my way. I turn and go. The waves are fast and scattered. I pop up quickly, pump down a racy, open section and tag the lip before it closes. It’s not a “power carve,” but it counts. I get one turn that makes the go out worth it.

     In minutes, the surf keeps getting better with the tide push. Even the rights are working. The peaks are fast, but pumpy and fun.

     Now guys are all over the sand, getting ready to paddle out. Everyone knows that the surf is decent. It must have been good yesterday too.

     What was once a peak with just Bri and I turns asses and elbows. It’s just as crowded as surfing the mornings. I’ve been spoiled, surfing HB with so much room. It’s hard not to be filled with animosity, the guys all around me, even though there are peaks everywhere why the fuck do they have to sit right fucking here?

     I go right, and a guy backs off for me. I get a rearhand carve, tossing some water where the guy’s face just was. I tag the lip once more before it closes out.

     Even Bri is getting her fair share of waves, propelling past the sections and getting a lot of distance.

     It’s crowded, but it’s so consistent that there is still enough for everyone.

     We stay until 1715. The wind picks up, making the surf choppy and unrecognizable to what it had looked like earlier. The evening gamble worked, and we caught the best window.