Thursday, July 3, 2014

THE FRONTRUNNERS, THU 03JUL2014


Loc: Bolsa Chica
Crew: Bri
Time: 0645-0845
Conditions: Overcast, light south wind, consistent, 2-3FT+.
     Walking on the sand, out to the shoreline, we see small two-foot peaks rolling in. My initial reaction is to push it a little more south where it will be bigger, but then the set shows up. Scattered peaks everywhere, solid three feet plus.
     “Let’s paddle out,” says Bri.
     There are only a few surfers out. We can have this to ourselves.
     Changing at my car, a couple cars pull up. Surfers get out to check the surf. They leave.
     I sample the old school Tokoro that my brother had given to me years ago, my primary board before I got the Motorboat Too. I’ve been dusting off my old quiver lately, and I’m hoping to reestablish a relationship with my beach-break Tokoro, hoping that this morning’s surf is big enough to get redialed.
     I’m antsy and so impatient to get a wave on it. I move around too much, going for a small wave when a bigger one breaks out the back.
     This board is thin and narrow, but it has more rocker for waves that stand up more. From what I remember, it works well in punchy HB surf. I go left on my first wave, and right away it feels sluggish. I don’t have that drop-in speed that my groveler gives me, that extra volume, compacted in a short thick board. I’m slow going down the line. I try to turn but fall backwards. On my next wave, I go down the line, trying to keep up with it.
     I hold my rails and feel something jagged on the right side. The fiberglass on the rail is broken like a shard from a bone. I must get out.
     On my MB Too, I screw in the AM2 Futures setup to see if they work better than my Black Stix for these punchier HB waves. Truth is, today isn’t big enough to really make a difference. There’s the occasional four footer, but for the most part, the waves are three feet and playful.
     It was empty earlier, but by 0730, the place is packed with mostly longboarders. I still manage decent rides, getting some frontside carves and a decent rotation on a spilling white-wash section. Heat winner today is Bri, though. After said wave, she catches the second wave of the set, taking off next to the peak on a bomb right, four footer easy. Her popups aren’t lightening quick, but she’s getting much better, and if she’s getting up fast enough to ride these waves, then she can probably surf south Huntington where it’s a little bigger.
     She had even called out a wave that I had tried to take from her earlier. “I want it,” she said, and so I backed off. I admire her for that. She’s getting aggressive. She’s getting better.

     Before the wind gets stronger and makes things choppy, we had scored a decent window for surf. Bolsa likes the low tide right now, and when we had first shown up, it was clean. The waves were lining up all the way to shore, not big enough to barrel but for sure rippable. And to think, these are just the forerunners of the incoming swell. We’re expecting more size too. It’s gonna be a good weekend. 


CRUMBS, WED 02JUL2014


Loc: Manhattan Beach
Crew: Bri
Time: 0630-0800
Conditions: Overcast, light onshore, inconsistent, 1-3FT, empty.
     As surfers, we still make the effort to dawn patrol, regardless of a tiny forecast. There are times when the forecast is off, and we score. Times when other, less dedicated, people put their trust in the surf websites and sleep in, leaving an empty lineup for unexpectedly fun conditions.
     On this morning, Bri and I hope for the same. On top of the hill, we can see that there are lines coming in. On the sand, we really see that the lines are so small that most of them are breaking inside.
     Today, the forecast is right. Those who had said, “Fuck it,” and slept in made the right call. So there are a few familiar faces in the water along with a handful of surfers who I don’t know. Even most of the SUPPERS stayed in.
     There’s an older, local vet with even length black hair. His hair’s starting to go a little grey, and it’s undeniable in his goatee. I watch him surf, and he gets some decent gems, cranking out at least one finishing turn on each one.
     The current takes the small crowd north, while I stay in front of the tower. All my rides are gutless and bogging out on the inside. Bri catches everything, going mostly straight on her waves.
     It’s so bad out here, even Don K. leaves early. Ross shows up and leaves within an hour. Sitting alone in front of the tower, a rogue wave pops up, and I’m right on the shoulder. It’s walled and racy, but I pump down the line and manage two little check turns on the open face. Grey Goatee turns around after I dismount, looking my way. A couple surfers paddle over. I get another one. Just like that after a morning of nothing, I get back to back waves on a day of crumbs.
     But after those waves, the south wind picks up, and the surf goes even more inconsistent. Leaving the water, the rest of the surfers who stay are just bobbing in the lineup like buoys. I’ve been there before, waiting for that wave that never comes.

     I may have made the wrong call by even showing up. I could’ve been in my fartsack just waking up right now, but I heeded the call and had a look for myself. Even though it didn’t look great I still paddled out. And even in the flat, uncrowded surf, I managed to catch two waves. On a day like this, it was still worth it. 

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

NEGLECTED BOARDS, TUE 01JUL2014


Loc: Manhattan Beach
Crew: Bri
Time: 0545-0730
Conditions: Overcast, light onshore, inconsistent, 2-3FT, sectiony.
     Considering yesterday’s racy surf, I opt to ride a different board with more rail, something that will help me get down the line faster, so I bust out the point-break Tokoro that my brother had given me. It has a lower rocker, better for softer waves. This board’s been neglected for some time, as I’ve only ridden it once at HB before switching back to my Mini Driver. My brother told me that this board isn’t made for beach break, but my logic is this. . . If my Motorboat Too is a groveler, and I’m able to surf well with it at Porto (not so much at HB), then the point-break Tokoro should work well here too.
     Driving towards Rosecrans, I see Gary and Dave trot across the street, boards in hand, but Bri and I aren’t joining them today. After a crowded and frustrating session yesterday, I decide to mix things up and surf at a mellower spot.
     Upon reaching it, we see that the surf is a bit dismal. First off, there’s July gloom. It’s light onshore, and the low tide doesn’t seem favorable for this spot like how it is at Rosecrans. Yet, there are waves, but they’re just not lining up well.
     There’s this younger Asian dude with short hair, shaved kind of like a Mohawk in the back. Sitting in my spot, I watch him get decent lefts. His waves look good, yet everything I catch closes out.
     Bri catches everything, milking the walled waves by pumping down their open faces.
     My Tokoro does feel good underneath me. I can get into waves without much difficulty, and the extra length (it’s a 6’0) makes it paddle well. After an hour, the surf gets much better with the tide push. Occasionally, the waves start breaking like yesterday but a little cleaner and smaller. I get an open-faced left, and I set myself up for a finishing carve, but the board doesn’t turn as loose as my MB Too; it feels sluggish and less snappy. Even though the surf is small, the waves are standing up just enough for this low-rocker board to not feel as torquey on the turns as I had hoped. I need more rocker. It might be best to sample this board at Trestles where the waves are softer, either that or a softer high-tide day local.
     Despite my struggles, I see the main peak just south of me. It’s crowded. A guy takes off on a left, and it starts reeling, throwing out. The guy gets a head dip, and the lip throws out over him for some legit cover up.
     I think I’ve been spoiled, scoring really good sessions back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-damn-is-there-anything-else-you-do-but-surf? And even though I really wanted to avoid the crowd and aggression that comes with surfing closer to Porto, I just know that the shape there must’ve been better. Thinking about Gary and Dave crossing that street in the morning darkness, I have to make sure that I’m crossing it with them next time.

     It was nice to mix things up. I still get a solid two hours of surfing in, and I’m home nice and early to start the day. You can’t score every session, and I’m glad that I had sampled my other board today. For the first time, I can really feel what different boards are doing and appreciate the different range of dimensions. 
Taking a peek at Rosecrans. Doesn't look like we missed much, but "looks" can be deceiving.

EVERYONE GETS SNAKED, MON 30JUN2014


Loc: Rosecrans
Crew: Bri & Rick
Time: 0530-0730
Conditions: Overcast, light onshore, inconsistent, 2-3FT+, crowded.
     The dawn-patrol crew is minimal this morning. Obviously the DRC are all sleeping, and as far as the WHC, they’ve been keeping this O’ dark-thirty routine for quite some time now, so I can’t blame them for showing up later or taking a lay day.
     As Bri and I head down the hill, Rick pulls a left into the parking lot. We’re early. It’s so easy to dawn patrol if you live in El Segundo. There’s no reason we can’t paddle out at first light.
     Upon reaching the sand, we already see about six guys at Rosecrans. Even 42nd already has some guys on it. To think that I thought we had shown up early. These guys beat us to it.
     I’ve griped and moaned in the past about surfers who paddle out right next to you while there’s a whole empty beach, so I paddle out on the south end of Rosecrans away from everyone else.
     When I reach the lineup, Rick’s already on the sand. The waves are a little walled and racy, but they have tapered shoulders all the way at the end. You just have to be in the right spot. I have difficulty doing so. On my first couple waves, I’m caught behind the section.
     Sitting in the lineup, I hear someone yelling. I look south. There’s a surfer on a wave yelling, “DUDE, DUDE, DUDE!” There’s a Japanese dude in front of him with good position, pumping down the line. The snakee keeps yelling, but the snake just keeps on pumping down the line until snakee falls from the  wake. I watch the snake surf the rest of the wave, still not looking back once. There’s no way he couldn’t have heard that guy yelling.
     Somehow, Bri, Rick, and I end up swapping spots with the morning pack. Now they’re all sitting south of Rosecrans while we sit north. Rick’s a wave magnet. Gary wasn’t lying about that. I struggle to get a decent ride to line up, but Rick gets a left from Rosecrans all the way to the next lifeguard tower, throwing water out the back the whole way.
     When he paddles back, he says, “Wooooh! I feel like a little kid! Was I throwing water out the back?”
     “Yeah. It looked good.”
     “That was like a hundred yards.”
     “Probably.”
     Meanwhile, he gets more and more waves. I struggle. The crowd thickens. Everyone has to paddle out and sit on you because there’s no room anywhere else.
     There’s this bald Kelly Slater lookalike who surfs Rosecrans too. He usually surfs with a petite Asian chick. He has priority on a left. I’m in good position, but instead of going for it, he paddles over it and lets me have it. The take offs on these fast shoulders are fun. Immediately, I have to pump just to get to the open face. After my first snap, I have to recover immediately to keep going down the line. I get another one. On my third turn I get lazy and fall, but I’m stoked. Finally, my wave of the day.
     I paddle back to KS#2 and thank him for sharing that wave.
     “Yeah,” he says. “It looked like you really wanted it.”
     Rick keeps on talking about his hundred-yard ride. I’m stoked for him, believe me I am, but sometimes if you’re having a frustrating session, you don’t want to keep hearing about someone’s epic ride over and over again. I guess that’s the selfishness in me. I want one too.
     After Rick leaves, I sit back at Rosecrans. Bri says she’s cold. I tell her, “If I get one more wave, I’m done.” Just then, a rogue left appears. I’m the deepest person in position for it. This guy on my outside, who has even length hair but a bald spot like a friar, starts paddling towards the shoulder of my wave. Now we’re paddle battling. I have priority, and I can’t believe that this guy is trying to take this wave, blatantly paddling over even though I’m deeper than him. I paddle a little too far and have to pop up as the lip is spilling on top of me. He’s in the perfect spot, popping up on the shoulder before the wave has broken. I’m behind him, watching him pump and set himself up. My goal is to catch up right on his ass. I’m not in the best spot, but I’m doing my best to make the section with someone in front of me. I watch him do a backhand wrap just feet away from me. He knows I’m there. He has to, but he doesn’t look, and then the wave closes out.
     I’m pissed. Could I have caught up to the open face had I not been snaked? I’m an etiquette nazi when I surf, but is it realistic to expect that same etiquette from other surfers? How far do you push it? I’ve seen the altercations in the lineup enough, but are they worth it?
     Friar’s a good surfer. I’ll give him that. I had seen him do a backside air on a left earlier, and that’s without a leash. He paddles back to the spot where we had all been sitting earlier. A couple other guys give me that “I saw you get snaked” look. I look at Friar, but he just looks down at the water.
     I get my last wave. A closeout. From the shore, I see Friar do the same thing to another surfer.
     What had happened just ruined my morning, but after a nap, a workout at the gym, and some time in the library, I let it go. That guy earlier who had got snaked by the Japanese dude. He didn’t push the issue. I’ve seen Gary get snaked by a little kid at HB. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen Rick snake people. Everyone gets snaked. It’s just been a long time since I have. I think I let my ego get the best of me. How entitled are we, truly, as surfers?

     That guy paddled over and took my wave. I let him punk me and out battle me for position. I must have looked like a bitch in his eyes, that I looked like someone who couldn’t surf, but now I’m just doing a downward spiral, possibly over thinking. I need to turn this energy into something positive. I’ll put it in my surfing. 

Monday, June 30, 2014

JUAN’S BIRTHDAY, SUN 29JUN2014


Loc: Huntington Pier south
Crew: Bri, Juan, Rick, Dave, Gary, Manny
Time: 0600-0800
Conditions: Overcast, south wind, inconsistent, low tide, 2-3FT.
     One thing I like about Huntington Beach is its access. One can score a parking spot easy during dawn patrol. When Bri and I park on 6th and Walnut, it’s still dark out. There are two drunken chicks talking on the front porch of their apartment building.
     We walk to the pier and catch a glimpse of Rick and Manny running across the sand towards the surf. It’s overcast, and the sky is a dull bluish gray. The wind is also onshore, blowing from the south.
     On the sand, Manny’s going left on his backhand, trying to pull in and get barreled, but the wind is knocking the peaks down.
     Immediately upon paddling out, I get a small right. At least the wave looked small, but it stands up so fast that it actually has a fast pumpy section to work with.
     There’s a heat between Rick and Manny, and Rick’s not doing so swell as far as the competition goes. Manny catches a lot of insiders, getting lots of one-turn wonders.
     The south current’s strong, and everyone’s paddling against it to try and hold position. Every wave surfed gets a score.
     Despite the onshore conditions, the surf turns consistent, sprouting solid three-foot plus peaks along the beach. Some are sectiony but some hold shape.
     I get a set wave left. Thank goodness I’m right on the shoulder or else I wouldn’t make it. The wave opens up but it’s about to section off into another section. I bottom turn and carve the open face before it closes out, putting as much arc and torque on the tail as I possibly can. It feels good. I ride out of it. Dave is on the inside with both fists clenched, cheering me on. I’ve never seen him so stoked for me before. He holds up five fingers and one finger on his other hand. On the outside, Gary’s holding up seven fingers.
     I’d like another wave like that one, but I can’t get one. I eat shit on a couple, taking off too late. Juan’s the finesse surfer of the morning, casually taking off on the peaks and making the sections for long rides. Bri’s going for bombs too. Gary takes off on a bomb left and wipes out. It’s a session that’s turned for the better with enough waves for everyone.
     But the window closes. A lull ensues after the wave fest, and now we’re all paddling around just to stay busy. “We’re about due up,” says Juan. Another set comes but barely anything afterwards.

     For breakfast, we head to a waffle place just a block away from where I had parked. It’s nice to hang out with the boys, and I’m happy to see the energy that Bri brings to the table. She’s pretty and she surfs, but I’m sure that the rest of the guys have to slightly filter their conversations because if Bri wasn’t here, they’d be having a perve fest.