Loc:
El Porto, 42nd Street
Time:
1130-1300
Crew:
Gary & Dais
Conditions:
2-3 FT+, onshore, peaky.
Board:
Lost Mini Driver
I didn’t plan on surfing today because of
the high tide in the morning and the lame 1-3 foot poor-to-fair surf report,
but Dais texts me and says that he’ll be at Porto. Since I haven’t seen him in
a while, I head out to meet him.
I’m not expecting much, but surprisingly
there’s a three foot peak breaking at 45th Street. The wind is light
onshore but strong enough to create some texture. The tide looks low and about
to drain out, but there’s enough water on the surface to provide some shouldery
peaks.
Taking a gamble, I opt to wear trunks and a
rashguard, hoping that this heatwave will keep me warm despite how cool the
water still is. I paddle out just north of the sandwich shack and spot Dais
right away.
It’s been a while, so we catch up a little.
He and his girl Ashley had moved into an apartment together, work is good, so
on and so forth. Unfortunately, he has to bail about fifteen minutes after I
get there. Fortunately, I’m blessed with a couple good waves right off the bat.
It’s been a while since I’ve surfed Porto
on a shortboard. Feeling light with only trunks and a rashy, I pop up on a racy
left, pump hard, and just fly down the line. I get a quick check snap,
redirect, and get a slashing carve on the dissolving shoulder. I feel like
brown lightning.
I’m thinking that this is gonna be a good
window, and that I’ve still got plenty of waves to catch. Just then, I see a
guy who looks like Gary paddling out just south of me. When he gets closer, I
realize it is Gary.
Turns out he took a surf break instead of a
lunch break. “Looks fun!” he says. “Saw some nice peaks.”
And then the wind picks up just a tad more.
The lowering tide reaches a level that just makes the waves more sectiony and
racy. Gary paddled out at the wrong window. I had just barely got it before it
turned. Dais. He was the one who was out here at the right time.
#
Loc:
El Porto, 42nd Street
Time:
1730-1845
Crew:
Gary
Conditions:
2-3 FT+, light onshore, swampy.
Board:
Lost Mini Driver
I meet up with fellow DRC member Jonathan
Macias. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, let alone surfed with him. Since
he had gotten married, well . . . he just stopped surfing. Over coffee he opens
up to me and says, “You’re the oldest friend I have. I’ve known you since high
school. My other friends, you know them, we don’t even talk anymore.”
“I’m sorry for being a dick to you when you
stopped surfing,” I say. “I know I gave you a hard time.”
“Yeah you did.”
We sip our coffee. I had been blinded for a
while by my disappointment in him, but I can’t let surfing define my
friendships. Some people move on to other things. I’m glad we had this chat.
The whole time we’re catching up, I’m
watching the waves. It looks fun. Textured peaks are coming in, rippable rights
and lefts. Gary runs out of the parking lot and hits the sand. I halt him and introduce
them to each other. By 1730, I’m paddling out.
I tell Gary I had seen him catch a pretty
long left earlier. The crowd’s thin this evening. Waves are coming in, but I
can tell that they’re getting kind of soft. The sets are racy and break further
out. Gary’s on the peak but yells for me to go. It’s one of those waves where
you have to be right on the shoulder because it runs away so fast. I pop up and
pump along its racy face, finishing off with a little floater. No turns. But on
the way back out, I catch a bonus insider and actually crank out a turn on the
dissolving shoulder. I paddle back smiling, having met my quota.
There are some longboarders further south
who are selling the peak in front of 42nd. We paddle over there and
get front row seats to a guy on a Costco Foamie cruising down the shoulder of a
slotty left. Looks good. We’d like one, too, but the conditions change right
away. Too much water. Waves are coming in soft. The sets break further out but
moosh out on the drop. Gary goes in. Stubborn, I wait for one good wave to end
it, but I end up catching a closeout and going straight.
Yet, I’m stoked. Gary and I watch an overcast
sunset on the horizon. The sun a half tangerine, glowing and turning the sky
pink. The peaks we had seen are now shore rollers and unsurfable. It’s been a
while since I pulled a double sesh at home, let alone an evening sesh. For
once, I’m selecting surf windows, taking advantage of the best times to go out.
Not a first shifter but an odd shifter, and running into Gary today was a
bonus.
Driving home, I don’t feel skunked. I
caught some fun rides and didn’t have to drive very far for them.
this seems so familiar to mazatlan, mexico beach, tnx for share !
ReplyDelete