ANYTHING, TUE 07JULY2015

Loc: El Porto, Rosecrans

Time: 0600-0700

Crew: Bri & Garr

Conditions: 2-3 FT+, light onshore, overcast, drained tide

     Indo’s coming up in about a week, and I’m currently surf starved. Haven’t had a solid rippable sesh since Rick’s campout. After looking at the funky surf on the local surfcams, I’m ready to just surf anything. ANYTHING. I need to be in the water.

“Out of the water, I am nothing.”—The Duke

     I send the bat signal out to the WHC. Gary’s paddling out tomorrow at first light. Hell yeah I’m going.

#

     I’m such a bum that if I don’t surf, I’m not tired enough to go to bed early at night. Last night, I finally fell asleep just before one, and now I’m up at 0510. When Bri and I reach the Rendezvous spot, Gary’s not here yet. He shows up after we’re done changing, says he had to take a crap down the street. It happens. “Go ahead,” he says. “I’ll meet you guys down there.”

     Walking down the hill, I expect nothing. I know the surf’s not supposed to be good today. How can it? Low tide, a small pulse in swell if we’re lucky. Also, what the fuck is up with the weather? June gloom in July?

     Three guys are already in front of the 40^th Street Tower. Yeah, fast drainer corners with whitewashed shoulders, but at least there’s energy. Peaks are rolling in, just not enough water on the sand to sustain rippable faces.

     It’s an easy paddle out, practically a walk out. A longboarder on the sand practices his popup on his board. He catches a wave with a power stance, but gets clobbered trying to make it back out. Take the ticket, enjoy the ride, but pay again.

     I scratch and kick into a wave, but it’s racing away and closing out when I get up. Better off pulling in.

     Gary makes it out and paddles towards Rosecrans. We follow. While I’m looking out at the horizon, Bri’s doing her thing, clowning on the smaller waves. Her best wave, I see a longboarder going for a right. Bri has position. She turns and goes on him. The guy watches her. I’ve been there. If she falls, he’s going to be pissed, but she trims top to bottom and glances off the lip before the wave closes out. Solid.

     Gary takes the heat with a right. He somehow manages the only turn this session, cranking out a backhand snap. I give him the nod. He smiles back.

     All I can do is Spartan up. Gary hoots me into some waves that I normally wouldn’t go for, but I must when it comes to these salty mentors. I pull in, and the bottom just sucks out, opening up a dredging cavern. Man, I’m in there. Fuck it feels great just to pull in and get that perspective, but no sooner than I’m in there does the fucking thing stretch and collapse. Payment is an awkward wipeout with the tail of my board in my armpit the whole way down. I can’t even explain how I get into this position, but I resurface unscathed. Still felt good.

     We’re forcing rides against the dropping tide. The wind settles but there’s just not enough water. Gary paddles into more dredgers, somehow pulling out and escaping annihilation into the flats. On his next wave he says, “See you later, Matt.” He scratches but doesn’t get into it. A right comes. He calls me into it. It looks like it’s going to close, but I go anyway, it’s my ticket in. As I’m bottom turning, I see the wave about to double up into the next section. I sneak in a backhand snap and ride out of it. Looking out back, Garr gives me the grin.

     I don’t know if it’s a heat winner, but as Bri and I are showering, I take a look back out at the water. There’s a guy getting barreled going frontside, arm outstretched before him. He’s driving and getting distance until the whole thing shuts down. Worthy. But wait. I turn to Bri. “I think that was Gary.”