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| I can appreciate "shape" over a walled day. |
Loc: Manhattan Beach, Rosecrans
Time: 0700-0830
Crew: Bri, Juan, Garr
Conditions: 2-3 FT+, sunny, warm, offshore
Board: Motorboat Too
I should be on the road heading to Big Bear
for my friend J’s bachelor party, but since I’ll be missing out on a massive
swell this weekend, I have to get a surf in before I leave. The swell’s
supposed to be tapering off, but I check 26th Street anyway. Of
course, it’s a fucking lake. Bri parks and walks towards The Strand as I’m
walking back. “Let’s go meet the guys,” I say.
When I pull into the Porto lot, a freakish
rogue wave breaks at 45th. It’s amazing what a couple miles down the
beach does. But as packed as it is, I can tell that there’s a mellow energy in
the air. If it were firing consistently, people would be rushing, wearing a
no-bullshit face in preparation for glory. Instead, people are just kind of
watching and taking their time. As soon as I drive past the bathrooms, several
parking spaces are open.
Bri and I search for Gar and Juan in the
water. I don’t see Gar, but Juan is unmistakable in his chinstrapped surf cap.
With the tide a little lower this morning, some nice peaks are sprouting up and
down the beach. 45th and the sandwich shack look consistent, but
those spots are more packed.
We paddle out at Rosecrans, just as Juan is
paddling late into a four-foot right. I’m about to hoot him on, but some dick
in a hooded wetsuit fucking drops in on him. Fuckin’ A. I watch them both
resurface to see if there will be an altercation, but Juan just paddles back,
no big deal.
I
flag him down. He waves back. “Where’s Gary?” I say.
Juan points to the guy who had just snaked
him. Shit, I didn’t recognize Gary with his hoodie on. Figures Gary would snake
him. About fifteen minutes later, Jimmy B paddles out and joins us, too.
I have a slow start. The crowd’s
manageable, but I can’t seem to get a good wave that will stay open. Bri gets a
legit wave before I do. It’s pretty impressive seeing her on the Becker. Even
paddling back through the impact zone, she turtle dives that thick 6’10 without
issue.
Gary stands out this session. He constantly
gets long lefts, getting so much distance that he ends up sitting at the next
break over.
I finally get a decent runner of a left.
Juan hoots me as he goes over the shoulder. The section crumbles in front of
me, but I do a small floater over it. I get a little snap on the shoulder,
hearing someone else hoot me from the inside. To finish the ride off, I try a
layback but don’t ride out of it.
“Matt!” I hear. I look towards the shore.
Jimmy’s waving goodbye.
And even though I hadn’t expected much this
session, the surf actually gets better, and I get a few more fun little rides.
Bri leaves to work. Juan and Gar get out at
0830 because they didn’t pay the meter. I could surf longer. I’m good until
0850, but I get out to have a little face time with the masters.
I invite Gary out for breakfast since he
had hooked me up with a good wetsuit deal. Turns out Juan’s available too since
Biden’s visit is causing chaos with the traffic. We end up at Mandy’s in El Segundo.
It’s Juan’s first time here. After coffee and food, I spring for the bill,
saying that I had the intention of treating, but those guys whip out their cash
and make sure to pay their share even though I had offered.
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| "Here it comes," says Gary. |


#ohhhdanggg Duckbutter, I did not receive an interference on the blantant drop-in because Garrr was holding priority. John and I have been paddle battling since the 80's. I believe it's enabled us to deal with crowded situations and control the areas we choose to surf by holding down peaks and regulating as best as we can! Taking turns, hooting each other on, and the occasional drop-in assists the #WHC & #DRC to thrive in lineups.
ReplyDeleteThat's my story and I'm sticking too it!
Haha, I actually thought it was really funny when I found out it was you. Of course. You were PROVOKED! Nah, it's great surfing with you guys, and I know the standard you guys hold yourselves to. =)
ReplyDelete