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| The best way to cap off a three-hour surf sesh. AYCE sushi. |
Time: 0930-1230
Crew: Bri, Cassady, Kami
Conditions: 2-3 FT, mid tide, uncrowded, consistent
Board: Pill & Zippifish
Since Bri works two jobs now, it’s rare for
her to get a full day off, but today she does. We had planned a surf day for
her, and the call was to surf HB.
We do it right this morning, sleeping in
and planning to catch the surf when the tide’s on its way down. Also, with the
Super Bowl on deck, we hope to catch an uncrowded session.
I take the Studebaker exit and work my way
towards HB on PCH. I like stopping at the HB Cliffs / Dog Beach to see how the
surf is there before heading towards Brookhurst, but when we reach Warner we
see that PCH is closed.
Would have been nice to know this intel
earlier, but there’s a marathon or a race going on. Hundreds, maybe thousands
of runners are on PCH. Since I have a state parking pass, we enter Bolsa Chica.
It’s either bypass PCH to get further south or surf here. We do a surf check at
Tower 20. The waves are still fat from the tide, but there is shape. Bolsa
Chica it is.
I call my friend Cassady and tell him where
we’ll be. It’s too mooshy and small for the Motorboat Too, so I whip out the
Pill that Gary had let us sample, and Bri paddles out on the blue Zippifish. We’re
not expecting much surf, just a fun small session.
Within minutes of reaching the lineup, we’re
in prime position for some long open shoulders. Signature HB style waves, even
on the high tide, they are standing up a little more than Porto.
Even though I’m using a composite set of
FCS GMBs, the Pill is turning so smoothly. On punchy three-foot faces, I’m
wrapping this board around doing solid cutbacks. Since it has such a full
shape, I’m getting back to the open face so easily. The thruster setup is so
responsive. I even walk the nose to get past some sections in front of me,
longboard style, and then shift back to the tail to crank out more turns. Although,
I can’t really get snappy turns because of the full round tail, but it’s still
such a fun board. I’ve never ridden a board that can ride both like a long and
shortboard, just such good balance for all around fun surfing.
Cassady and his girlfriend Kami show up on
longboards. Cas is a purist, so no leashes for them. He’s my former MFA
classmate, so we have a good time catching up. They surf with us for an hour
before leaving for a Super Bowl party.
“Your guys’ stoke is so infectious,” he
says. “We need to paddle out with you guys more often.”
We make a tentative plan to hit Trestles
next weekend before they part.
Bri and I switch boards, and she does
pretty well on the Pill. She catches a right, and I watch her pump to the open
face from behind and cutback a little.
The Zippi is another story. Being back on
this beast is like catching a second wind. I can catch anything on this. With
the lowering tide, the waves get a little racier, but the twin fins are so fast
that I can pump so far down the line before cutting back. The turns on the fish
aren’t as smooth as the thruster setup on the Pill though.
At 1230, three hours later, we’re done. It’s
on the way to Maru Sushi in Westminister. My buddy J had turned me onto this
place. It might be a nice replacement for Zenko Sushi in Mission Viejo. There’s
only one way to find out. I worry about a Super Bowl crowd, but the place is
empty. Immediately when we get our first order, I can tell that the quality
here is subpar from what I’m used to. The muscles are drenched in sauce and
have a strong after taste. The mackerel is hard and looks like it’s been out
for a while. Little subtleties like laps in presentation turn me off. Sloppiness.
I hate to be a sushi snob, but I can’t help it. Yet, for eighteen bucks per
person, it’s a good deal for a quick AYCE fix.
We pick up some coffee at Lee’s Sandwiches,
grab some Aloe Gator sunscreen at REI, some wax at Surf Concepts, and then stop
off at El Porto before heading home. It was such a good day, cruising to Cali
surf tunes (Tame Impala channel on Pandora) on the way home. Bri had said that
she didn’t want the drive to end. Sitting on the sand, we watch the drained out
surf at 45th. Guys are milking it, even getting three hits, but we’re
not paddling out again. Tomorrow the surf is supposed to be poor-to-fair before
picking up again into Tuesday. Perfect excuse for a lay day. I have to let my
body rest some time.
Also, the surf session itself and the
equipment we used, I feel lucky to be able to use different surf craft and feel
the difference between twin fins and thrusters. Back then I wouldn’t have been
able to appreciate the difference in responsiveness through the turns or the
speed I can get on each setup.
When I get home, I look in the mirror and
see that my face is still smeared with white Vertra. The tan line on my neck is
horrific; I’m two different people. With eyes bloodshot red, I can’t help but
smile at myself. They are all the signs of a good day of surfing.
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