SMALL DAYS PT. 3, TUE02APR2013 AFTERNOON

Loc: Old Mans

Crew: Bri

Conditions: 1-3 FT, clean, sunny, warm.

     So we’re not the only people on spring break. There are little fuckers playing football, little kids screaming, mom’s yelling, and teenage girlies in skimpy bikinis, yelling, “Oh my gawd, don’t get me wet!” Fuckin’ bastards. So far for the relaxed, chill day at the beach. Bri is lying out, getting her booty tanned, when the football comes flying in, hitting her in the leg. She sits up and says, “What the fuck?” Yes, one of her trademark lines, but she really uses its application for what it’s meant. A face full of braces smiles back in apology.

     “You wanna just paddle out now?” I say.

     “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I just want to get away from the campsite right now.”

     So here we are, it’s barely three o’clock, and we’re already doing Old Mans part due. So the south wind is on it a little, and it just looks . . . okay, but it’s one of those situations where, once you paddle out there, it’s actually not so bad. After the sets, the water smooths out and cleans up a little. The crowd is still super thin too, and we’ve also caught another good window with the tide pretty low. Even though the rides aren’t as clean as the morning’s, they are still fun.

     But we are a little dehydrated, only having drunk a couple beers each, so we head back to the campsite to refuel after about an hour and a half. After scarfing some sourdough bread, oranges, and Wheat Thins, we make a short trek to Churches to scope out some rights.

     Technically, this is the third session, but maybe not because the hiatus in between was nothing more than a snack break.

     CHURCHES . . . my beloved Churches, on this small, wind-waning evening, my how you’ve cleaned up and turned smooth and glassy. You’re rights are so down the line and long; they stand up just a little more than Old Mans, allowing a little more performance riding. And thanks again to Surfline for saying that the conditions are “poor to fair,” you’ve left Bri and I with no more than ten other surfers to deal with.

     Bri’s running out of mustard. She’s tired and showing it on the waves that she’s missing. Churches is definitely a little bigger, showing more three-foot pulses. We sit wide south and still get waves. Even though it’s less consistent sitting wide, the undeniable lines show in the distance, much too far for the guys sitting closer to the main peak. Again, over and over, repetition, just paddling in so easy on the Zippi, what a fine piece of equipment. Although, I do miss my Motorboat Too. I wonder if it’s big enough for it, but there is no way I’d be catching this many waves if I had it.

     We call the session before it gets dark since we started the second session early. It’s a night around the campfire with carne asada tacos and S’mores. I’m surprised at how much surf we are scoring.

SMALL DAYS PT. 2, TUE02APR2013 MOR

 

Loc: Old Mans

Crew: Bri

Conditions: 1-3 FT, glassy, clean, sunny, cool.

     As I’ve said, QT with Bri is my priority before I get cracking to some homework. I’m lucky that Bri likes to camp and surf; she don’t give a shit about taking a shit in the woods, not that we have to, but I’m glad she doesn’t.

     We have a campsite on the beach with a fire pit just for a day, but we’re here to make the most of it, first with this morning session and then again later.

     We look at Churches first, which is . . . well, pretty small, especially since we’ve caught low tide again. But it does look rideable. Then we go to Old Mans and compare. It looks a little more consistent, and since I love lefts, sometimes it’s hard to turn down Old Mans. “Where do you want to surf?” I ask.

     “Old Mans,” she says.

     So, I guess I’m a little guilty because I had asked but I actually want to surf Churches. It’s one of those situations when you ask someone but then you’re hoping they answer the question your way. Anyway, to fight my dickhead tendencies, I say, “Old Mans it is!”

     Surprisingly, the wind is just barely swinging south, but still glassy for the most part with enough east in it to still call it offshore. What luck again, as it’s so consistent. Yes, small, barrages of two foot waves. The lefts are short, but can you really complain when there are so many of them? It’s a buffet of short, small, clean rides. There’s not much I can do on this Zippy anyway, but it’s fun and easy, like longboarding. Again, I play with the lines, practicing more floaters now, and trying to see if I can add some accent to my turns. Bri always does much better at Old Mans. It’s a mental thing for her, I believe, because I’ve spoiled her. I’ve taken her here . . . almost a year ago. Yup. This is where she really learned to surf. Something so chill and relaxed about these waves: they are so perfect for the summer in boardshorts, stoned and slightly buzzed off some Shocktop beers. Summer, almost. And, yeah, that’s all we’re really missing on this morning: hot weather.

     We surf for a couple of hours with the light, Tuesday crowd. Lucky Surfline says it’s shitty out. That’s why it’s so empty.

     We head to La Tiendita for some post surf grub. Bri is “treating.” Sigh . . . it’s always nice to have a chick that pays for shit, or that’s willing to pay for shit, ya know? Mexican Machaca plates over reflections of the last two days of good surf. It’s beginning to feel like spring break.  

SMALL DAYS PT. 1, MON01APR2013 MOR

 

Loc: Palos Verdes

Time: 0900-1200

Crew: Bri

Conditions: 1-3 FT, glassy, kelp infested, cool, clean.

     There are a couple things going on. First off, it’s spring break, but I still have an assload of homework to do. Two, Bri has three days off, and after my last camping trip, I have to make quality time for the little lady. Three, there is no surf, at least according to Surfline.

     We drive the coast on the way to PV, glancing in between houses and streets, looking at the tiny, textured surf. Every sense tells me that we’re due for a good skunking. Even Torrance Beach looks like shit, and with PV around the bend, well, we pretty much know how the conditions are going to be over there.

     However, this very hour, to be here at this very moment, is planned. The tide is about to bottom out, and with the tide push, there is a chance that some cobble stone magic can happen.

     As we pull up to park, there are some other surf vehicles there—a good sign. It’s a little overcast and grey; the sun hasn’t burnt through yet. We step off the trail for a little look. There are just over a dozen surfers, and the surf, well . . . it looks small but rideable. Best of all, while the other beaches are choppy and onshore, the cove is providing some protection from the wind. Adding the kelp on the ocean’s surface, the water’s conditions are super glassy.

     I didn’t even bother packing my Motorboat Too; I brought CC’s Zippi Fish that she let me borrow.

     As I’ve said before, I don’t surf as much as I used to because of school, and this morning, making that low tide, cobblestone dance, and then paddling way out to the lineup, my delts were on fire. The locals at the main peak just sort of watch and stare for a moment as we secure our positions, and then they look away. There isn’t much to be territorial about today, especially since it’s small. Besides, they are all on longboarders, what kind of threat do I pose on a Zippi? We are also sitting wide of them to the north.   

     With the tide still low, the waves come in a little walled, but there is potential. They are just so clean, and even though they aren’t even three feet, I’m able to connect some sections for some long rides. It’s into the second hour, once the tide fills in a little, that things begin to pick up.

     Did I mention it is clean? God damn, it’s a true score, to surf somewhere where the water is glassy, especially when the whole South Bay looks like crap. Bri wipes out on about half of her waves, or she pops up too slow, still using her knees. I try to silence the dickhead within me. I’m just an impatient, shitty teacher, and I’ve learned a lot about myself in surfing with Bri. Sometimes you have to just let go because if I go into drill sergeant mode, then I could possibly kill her stoke, and that’s not what I want. She does get some quality waves too though, and every time she paddles out she gets a little bit better.

     Despite being entangled in kelp and having our fins run them over, losing momentum, the rides are really long. How shall I describe it? It’s just cold and glassy, so glassy like even the fish aren’t moving; the ocean is just so still. So when these waves come in, they just break so clean. I do nothing critical, but trim the fish, play around with the different lines, practicing some slow front side cut backs, and just standing tall and looking down on the shoulder forming in front of me. I manage to walk the nose on a couple of rides, turning around and ending up regular foot before falling.

     My best ride is one of the few three footers that roll through. On this Zippi I’m unstoppable. It’s way too big for me. I could easily use the same thickness and go down 5’7 at least and still have enough volume. I catch one of the biggest lefts of the day (which again is not that big), and being on this Zippi is like driving an SUV on the freeway; I just feel higher. As the section is about to close in front of me, I climb the face, attempt a floater, and drop back into the wave with more momentum. I finish the ride with a finishing carve, all the way on the inside. Mind you, this was a slow wave, but . . . hey, surfing is all about fun, right? I was stoked after that wave and for the few I caught after.

     The sun comes out, and now my piss-filled wetsuit is turning my piss and ball juice into stew; it’s time to go. 

     We head to the best Chinese Restaurant in the South Bay and experiment by ordering the salt and peppered pork chops, which is officially now my new favorite dish at Seafood Town. Sorry, Beef Chow Fun, you take the back seat now. 

     Splurging is good, but to splurge after an exhaustive, long, three-hour surf session? I feel the salty fat after each bite crunch and dissolve, and then I stuff my mouth with some rice. Salt and peppered pork chops, the now official ritual after surfing PV from now on. Not a bad to score like this on a day when there isn’t supposed to be surf.