BETWEEN NOW AND INDO PT.2, TUE 14JUL2015

 

Loc: El Porto, Rosecrans

Time: 0615-0745?

Crew: Garr, Dave T.

Conditions: 2-3 FT, overcast, glassy, dumpy

     Gar says he has a few leashes for me to take to Indo and that he’s surfing Rosecrans in the morning. “Garr vs Duckbutter heat?” he says.

#

     I sleep clear through my alarm. Had some good tea last night that knocked me on my ass. After brushing my teeth and filling up my water jug, I head straight to Rosecrans, scoring parking down the hill.

     Hitting the sand, it doesn’t take long to spot Dave and Garr. Dave’s deep on a right, but he takes it. He gets down the line a little before Gary drops in on him. He tries to kick out for Dave, but the ride’s already over.

     Paddling out, I get Gary’s attention and make a triangle sign, calling interference.

     “But I had priority,” says Garr.

     I eye a left coming our way. I’m deep but I turn and go. Despite just getting here, Garr backs off and lets me have it. The lip curls as I stick my bottom turn and line myself up. I get a good glimpse in the barrel, and then I penetrate out the back. Unfortunately, my fucking mouth was open, and I end up swallowing a big gulp of water.

     “Wooooh,” says Gary. “You were in there.”

     Fuck, truth is that I wonder if I should have just tried to sneak in a pump. I always wonder if I’m bailing too early. Maybe I am.

     El Porto doesn’t do so well on a low tide, usually, and going low to mid is still too low. There are peaks, but they double up when they hit the inside and stretch out. 34^th street has a good left in the distance. A few longboarders use their equipment to pop up way early and milk their rides. Meanwhile, Gary, Dave, and I are caught in a lull. A few other guys paddle out. We jockey around and switch spots without much success, at least until a little left comes my way.

     It’s two feet and fat. I pump but feel sluggish. Instead of carving, I pull a floater on a flat face. Lackluster. At the end section, I do a bailing layback. Dave gives me a little nod, but it was unworthy.

     Dave catches a left and gets a critical floater. Gary goes right, actually connecting a legit backhander into a second turn, a two-piece.

     Gary’s just caught his last wave in. An A-frame pops up out back. Dave and I paddle for it. He goes left, I right. Bottom turning, the face is staying open. I crack one fluid backhand snap and ride out of it with speed.

     It’s hard to leave, so I paddle back out and get another hit on a closeout section.

     Dave and I walk back up the hill. When we part ways, he wishes me a good trip in Indo. At Gary’s SUV, he hands me two used competition leashes.

     “I’ll bring you back some coffee,” I say.

     That night, I have a couple more stops to make. Rick hooks it up with more Hurley donations, plus a set of FCS fins for backups. As I’m trying to leave, he can’t stop giving me advice about surf travelling, making sure I have this and that. 

     My sister gives me some stuff for my brother, one of the items are old family pictures of my mom.

     I think I know what I felt surfing Monday. As much as I wanted to hit the water, things were just starting to get a little stale. Too many single-hitter sessions. One-turn quota days can only keep one content for so long. Even Trestles has been a hard score this year, but tomorrow, Bri and I have Java . . . Java. . . .