Loc:
26th Street
Crew:
Klaude
Conditions:
2-3 FT, inconsistent, overcast
I distinctly remember this morning as
overcast and gloomy. I had just gotten over being combo’d by food poisoning and
flu-like symptoms that followed. However, I didn’t miss out on too much surf
because of the oil pods that were contaminating the South Bay. Either way, I
was due up for some surf. Dead or alive, flat or not, I was going to take a looks.
Even though the surf looked dismal at 26th
Street, I didn’t hesitate changing into my wetsuit and grabbing my board, a
simple routine that I had missed so much.
I didn’t see the usual local crew hanging
out in the lot, so I just made my way to the water. Upon paddling out into the
lineup, I realized that I didn’t recognize most of the people here. It’s like
the company had gone through some kind of massive change and I didn’t get the
memo.
Klaude was there. It was such a bummer surf
day that we showed it on our faces, scrounging for waves in different directions
without keeping track of each other. I went south, he went north, and with
empty bags of candy we met up again in front of the tower.
The conditions were clean and glassy but
without shape, just racy and too fast.
Roy was out, talking to some grom about
where they’d been surfing lately and how they’d been scoring. I couldn’t help
to think that I used to be that guy who had a “score story,” too.
“Matt,” said Roy. I looked up. I already
knew he was calling me into a wave. Even though the wave closed out, it’s still
nice to know I get that local courtesy, especially from a vet like Roy.
When Klaude left, Toru showed up. We
bullshitted for a little while. I was ready to leave, too. On the sand, Klaude
was making his way over the strand. Out back, a wave was coming in, deceiving
and racy, but I was in the perfect spot where the wave tapered off to merely
nothing.
I paddled out to meet it, and that’s when
the corner doubled up. I turned and went, barely keeping my nose out from
purling.
The rest was ugly. I pumped to keep pace
with the shoulder. I bottom turned, top turned, and felt like I was on the
verge of falling behind. The ride ended with two more sloppy hits, but they
were still hits nonetheless, and when my feet hit the sand on the inside, I
knew that there was no better way I could end the session on a better note.
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