Loc: Huntington
Beach
Time:
0700-0900
Crew: Bri
& Klaude
Conditions:
overcast, glassy, 2-3 FT+
Bri and I meet Klaude and his friends, Pat
and Pete, near Magnolia. We check the surf, and it looks smaller than yesterday
but still surfable. I brought the bigger AM2 Futures fins that Khang had leant
me, but I opt to leave my small fins in because the surf isn’t calling for it.
Pat is Klaude’s roommate’s boyfriend, the
guy who invited Klaude to the Oaxaca surf trip just weeks ago. He and Pete are
firefighters . . . ripping firefighters. Upon paddling out, I see Pete going backhand
on a right. His curly red hair and wide mustache makes him look like a boxer
from the nineteen thirties, wearing high trousers with suspenders. He gets two
snaps before the wave closes out. Pat kills it too, making the down the line on
the fast sections, milking everything. Even Bri’s kicking ass on her 6’10” NSP,
easily getting a higher wave count than I.
Like yesterday, I struggle on my Motorboat
Too. The surf looked small earlier, but now, the sets are coming in close to
yesterday’s size. I fall behind the sections. Going down the line, my board and
I are not in sync. I curse myself for not putting in the bigger fins.
On a sectiony left, it’s breaking into
Klaude’s right. Before kicking out, I get perfect view of Klaude pulling in on
his frontside, fueled with a newfound aggression after his trip down in Mex.
When Klaude and his friends leave, I want
to stick around a little longer and swap my fins out. I eat shit on another
wave and swallow water upon resurfacing. The second wave of the set approaches.
Bri is on the inside, heading towards the sand. I head in too.
We eat pho on Brookhurst on the way home.
Usually I’m stoked for the fifty-percent off pho, but the noodles are hard and
the meat tough, but maybe it just tastes that way. The way my board felt today
was like the way it had felt when I had taken it out last winter during a big
swell at Porto. The board just wasn’t working right. Despite sliding out, the
board didn’t ride well.
Dipping my chicken into some hoisin sauce,
I think about the last two sessions I’ve surfed here. It’s not an issue with
the fins. I have a whole quiver at home, different boards for different conditions.
It’s time to put them to use. As fond and connected as I am to the mana of my
MB Too, I need to be wiser in my board selection.
I take a big bite out of the chicken. The hoisin
sauce saves the chicken, making it sweet and salty at the same time. It doesn’t
taste so bad.
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