THE IN-BETWEEN SWELLS PT.3 (double), SUN 14SEPT2014

Loc: Churches

Crew: Bri

Time: 0645-0900

Conditions: 2-3 FT, glassy, hot, consistent, uncrowded.

     My feet are torn up. There’s a short but deep incision on the ball of my left foot. There’s another deep cut underneath the middle toe on my right foot. When I examine it, it opens like a mouth, screaming in torture. It’s just been a bad year for my feet. I used to think of myself as a cobblestone champ but not anymore. Yet, I don’t want to order booties, but I can’t keep fucking up my feet, my surf foundation like this.

     After yesterday’s session, I’m so worn out. Today’s another repeat of yesterday. If there was supposed to be any flat spell this weekend before the swell picks up, it never happened. Either that, or we were catching too many waves to notice.

     Waves . . . they are so consistent, peaky. Just good quality rides, biggest on the popup at three feet and then tapering off quickly, but there’s that opening section where you have so much speed that your opening turn can be so good. A gouging opening carve where the rest of the ride is a consolation. Good waves when you’re body’s too tired to keep up?

     Not one wave sticks out in distinction. Any fault to a bad wave is solely on me. There seem to be more outside sets this morning, a lot more darting out to get in position. I have many late take offs, turn-and-go rides where I’m angled so hard that I’m already in a critical spot once I get to my feet.

     Rick and Bri wave on their way back from Lowers. They’re done battling it out with the crowd, but why even bother? Why surf with a dozen heads in hopes to get one good wave when you could be here and have all this to yourself?

     By 0900, we’re done. Exhausted. The trip over without an exclamation mark but more of a white banner. Maxed out. We surfed the best we could.

#

THE IN-BETWEEN SWELLS PT.4, SUN 14SEPT2014

Loc: Churches

Crew: Bri, Klaude

Time: 1200-1330

Conditions: 2-3 FT, light onshore, hot, consistent, crowded, soft.

     Klaude actually shows up. He’s late, but he’s here just in time for brunch and breaking down the campsite. Once Rick’s wife leaves with her carload, Rick and his youngest take a walk to tour the event site. Bri and I offer to chill with Klaude and watch him catch a short window of surf.

     The sun’s now blazing at max capacity. My wagon’s a sauna, parked in front of Churches, checking out the high-tide waves.

     “Grab Christina’s Zippi,” I say to Klaude. “You’ll need it. More volume.” There are lines coming in, fun rights, but soft.

     “Nah, I’ll just ride my Zippi.”

     He has a good fish, but it’s much smaller than CeCe. I urge him to take it. He declines.

     Klaude begins his warmup on the sand. I sit on a rock in front of my car. Beach goers everywhere on this sunny Sunday. E-Z UPs, umbrellas, and oiled-up bodies as far as the eye can see. He paddles out, catching a right immediately, but he’s a little behind the section. There’s competition. Longboarders, SUPers.

     Bri changes into her shorts and rashguard.

     “You paddling out?” I say.

     “Yeah. Klaude’s here. We gotta join him. Plus, I feel kind of bad for not paddling out yesterday.”

     So Bri joins him. I’m sweating, sitting out here on my rock. My feet hurt. My body hurts, but I have to get out there, too.

     Changing behind my car, Klaude catches me by surprise. Dripping wet in his shorts, he says, “Blue board.”

     “Oh yeah?

     “Yeah. I need the other fish.”

     I knew it.

     “You paddling out?” he says.

     “No.”

     He squints his eyes at me. “You sure?”

     “Yeah, go ahead.”

     Cece’s already out and unsheathed. I motion for him to take it.

     Now I’m in the lineup on Klaude’s smaller Zippi. This board would’ve done nicely the last two mornings on the lower tide, but I’m just out here to enjoy the day. It’s just perfect out. The sun’s at its highest point of the day, the water’s a greenish blue, cold to the touch, but the air is scorching. Gotta be wet.

     It doesn’t take long for me to get a right. It’s an insider, but the shoulder has such good shape. Popping up, I’m at a loss for volume. So much different than CeCe. Not as much speed on the drop. I work and pump, but the board feels flimsy and loose with no projection. I force a backhand snap. It’s weak.

     Paddling back out, I turn and go on an inside left, and just as I popup, I feel a sharp pain from the cut on my right middle toe. It hurts. I dismount my board and pull my foot out of the water. The incision tore, the skin had pulled apart on that wave. Blood’s coming out of it. Fuck. It’s not a gnarly cut but it’s just in a bad place.

     I surf conservatively for the rest of the session. In other words, like shit. You should never have to worry about an ailment when you’re on a wave. It just ruins everything.

     Klaude gets good down-the-line rides on CeCe, even pumping past the walled sections with ease. He’s stoked. Bri’s doing well, too, but some some old SUP guy keeps paddling back to the top of the wave, hogging everything that comes in. The paddle deeper to avoid his greed.

     I’m happy to be out with them, but I worry about how long before I can surf again. My feet need to heal.