HB’s UNDERDOG WAVE, SUN 15MAR2015

I know it doesn't look like much, but . . . it was REALLY fun.

 

Loc: Huntington Beach, Bolsa Chica                   

Time: 0945-1230

Crew: Bri

Conditions: 3-4 FT, offshore, hot, consistent. 

Board: Lost Mini Driver

     Bri has the day off. It’s her only full off, so we have to make it worth it. First, we sleep in. With a high tide in the morning, there’s no reason to dawn patrol it. Second, we’re escaping the South Bay and going back to HB. Obviously, not back to Brookhurst. I’m thinking Bolsa Chica first and then The Cliffs if Bolsa isn’t working.

     Upon reaching the state parking entrance, we’re faced with a long line just to get in. When we reach tower 20, the whole lot is nearly full with only a few empty spaces. I see the replay of yesterday morning coming into effect. It’s too crowded. Everywhere is crowded. With all this gorgeous weather and Surfline’s pumping-up of the swell, of course everyone is at the friggin’ beach.

     I park next to a beat up sedan. A dark bolo-head guy walks up to it. Holy shit. It’s Mario from 26^th Street, a South Bay guy who I frequently run into at Bolsa for some reason. “It’s fun,” he says. “I’m taking a break.” He pulls out a pack of cigarettes.

     Someone from the field of cars calls out his name. Holy shit again, it’s Ripper Roy from Manhattan Beach, too. Fuckin’ A. South Bay guys here at Bolsa. It must be good. Roy says that this is his second sesh too, and that he’s about to paddle back out. They both sell it. Yesterday was even better.

     Bri and I walk further south towards a gap in the lineup. It’s more inconsistent here, but the breaks in front of tower 20 just have too many people, longboarders, shortboarders, SUP’s, body boarders, you name it.

     At first, I wonder if I’m on the right board. I don’t really see big peaks coming in. I catch my first left. It’s three feet and racy, but I pump, make some sections, and end with a baby floater. So it’s three feet and fun. Still shortboardable, just not ideal.

     My next right races away. On the way back out, Bri’s on the 6’8 NSP, trying to pump her huge board. Even though she struggles to turn that beast, she’s surfing more top to bottom. A leap in her progression. When we’re both out back again, she gets a lot rides.

     And even though I had thought the waves weren’t ideal, sets start coming in. Not gnarly, but four feet. The lefts are standing up, not barreling but vertical rippable. For the first time in a while, I’m getting some legit shortboard time, getting some wraps and snaparoos. Mimicking my deep pumps from Churches two days ago, I’m in tune on the open face, pumping on the Lost Mini Driver, setting myself up for something. No airs. Just turns. Even with the crowd, I’m able to get my share of waves. Even though there are more people here, I’d rather deal with this than with the aggressive crowd at Brookhurst.

     All around me, the place is packed with people who just want to paddle out and be in the water. It’s funny how Bolsa is known for being the soft wave of HB, yet here I am, having an even better time than I had yesterday. Who cares if it’s probably a foot smaller here?

     My wave of the day is on a set that breaks far outside. I’m too deep for the first one, so I let it go. The second wave approaches. I’m in perfect position for it. Timing it right, I slowly steer my board into position. “You have to go,” says a random surfer from the inside. I pop up on the high line, pump, drop down, bottom turn, and get a solid rail-to-rail carve. It’s the first shortboard rail-to-rail action that I’ve had in a while. It’s hard to describe the feeling, but the satisfaction is far greater than a mediocre turn. I just feel it, hips and shoulders, on the rails with a full rotation and then coming out of it angry, just aggressive and hungry for more.

     At the end of my third turn I hear Roy yell, “Yeah, Matt!” I shoot him a shaka on the way back out.

     After the session, we head to Westminister for Pho, but not before driving the coast a little bit. There’s a line to part at The Cliffs. Everywhere, the water is still glassy. Even at noon and on a drained tide, waves are still breaking. It’s just perfect. As sunburned as I already am, I could easily park and paddle back out for the rest of the day.