Loc:
Manhattan Beach
Crew: Bri
& Klaude
Time:
0615-0900
Conditions:
light onshore, low tide, 2-3 FT
Some guys are good, so good that they don’t
smile.
There’s a guy in the lineup who looks
familiar, and honestly, he’s a level above me. I’ve seen him land a front-side
360 air one morning, not high but legit, fins out and low-vertical rotation.
I’m stoked just to be out. I throw him a
head nod with a grin, but he doesn’t do the same back. I try to keep my
distance, but I get a good wave, my wave of the day. It’s a left with shape.
The low tide has the waves going a little racy. Instinctually (and luckily),
while pumping down the line, I react to the curling lip. I get that one pump
(that my brother had tried to educate me on) to get under the lip. I’m so
caught off guard by my action that being in the barrel is a complete surprise.
Crouched in a small cylinder of water, I have a perfect view of the exit and
the white-wash swirl going over my head. And this is when I make a novice
mistake. I do nothing. I simply crouch and pray that the line I’m drawing will
do the rest, but I fall behind, get too deep, and eat shit.
Resurfacing, I remember how my brother had
told me how he likes to ride smaller boards because he has more room inside the
barrel. He held out his hand, stiff like a Karate chop, and canted his hand
slightly, rotating it over and over again. “Like this,” he said. “When you’re
inside, you’re pretty much pumping.”
And that’s what I just forgot to do in the
tube. I need to get out of the “I’m not gonna make it” mentality. I should’ve
been working. I should’ve been pumping.
After my ride, I end up right next to The
Guy Who’s Good. I’m so stoked, grinning from ear to ear. He tries to paddle
past me without looking, but I still smile at him. I don’t look away until he
nods and smiles back.
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