Monday, June 8, 2015

SETTING UP, WED 03JUN2015


Loc: Manhattan Beach, 27th Street

Time: 0700-0900

Conditions: 3-4 FT+, overcast, clean, racy

     You can imagine how pissed I was after getting skunked at HB. Pulling up to 27th Street, I see clean lines coming in, but they’re a little sectiony and breaking close to shore. It’s an average beachbreak day with slightly challenging conditions. I can already tell that. I can also tell that it’s one of those mornings when a good corner can make a difference.

     I score free parking and head towards the water. All the high schoolers have taken over the best two peaks, the two lefts that break just south of the tower close to Marine Ave. Instead of paddling out there, I meander towards Brick House that’s just north of the tower. A funboarder paddles out next to me. When I make it out, I turn around and see that the funboarder’s back on the sand.

     The current’s up a little today. Stretches of black dots are being pulled towards 30th Street. Guys are doing the carousel, getting out and walking south again. Bricks is a little inconsistent, too. Most guys in the lineup are just watching the groms kill it. A few groms choose to sit nearby where it’s less packed, too.

     But there still are waves. I catch a heaving right. I try to hit the lip before it closes, and as I’m winding up for the snap, the lip is already in a follow-through pitch. So fast! I kick away my board and land in the flats. Ugly. I resurface, and another wave’s behind it. Sucked beneath, I’m awkwardly holding onto my board upside down, waiting for the fucking thing to rise up.

     When I get back to the lineup, I suffer from bad wipeout syndrome. For me, it’s a parched back throat. It doesn’t make sense, it’s like the back of my throat feels painfully dry, and then the mucous buildup starts.

     I’m hacking and spitting, pulling webs of mucous away from my lips. It’s my first bad wipeout in a while.

     The next left has a good shoulder on it. I pop up and get down the line, causing a kid to pull out for me. I get a frontside snap and see that the wave’s standing up. I can tell it’s going to close, but instinctually, I pull in, set my rail, and go about a yard before getting pinched. Resurfacing from that, I feel pretty damn good. I mean, not just on the opening turn but my timing on pulling in felt natural. The first turn was well timed, too. The wave wasn’t standing up yet, so I knew to carve instead.

     Afterwards, I just want more waves like that. Poor grom who’s next to me. I get the next one, too. He’s on the shoulder watching as I pop up, crouch, and set myself up for a shallow coverup. Unfortunately, my timing isn’t well on this one. I sense that the shoulder is slotting behind me, but I’m too far in front. I could have done a number of things better. Could have faded out and pulled in tighter behind the shoulder, could have force stalled with my rear hand. I ditch the barrel attempt, stand up, and pump my way to the open face. I sneak a carve and pull into the inside closeout.

     When 0745 hits, the groms leave, and they take the pristine conditions with them. Collin’s out. We surf the rest of the session together. More guys are coming out to sit south of the tower, but the wind’s starting to shift, and the shape’s not so good anymore.

     Leaving the beach, I have a sense of satisfaction. Nope, didn’t have to drive for waves, didn’t have to get skunked, and I actually had one of the best local sessions that I’ve had in a while.

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