Has to be More Than Just Waves

            What do you really want out of surfing? Catching waves can’t be your whole world because there are days when there are no waves, or the waves suck, or the lineup is just too fucking crowded to get one wave alone.

            Yesterday morning I sat in the El Porto parking lot, after already checking 26^th and 33^rd Street, and had to have the internal debate on whether or not I’d be paddling out or going back home. I had already looked at the Surfline cam before rolling out of bed (and thank you, Surfline, for over hyping the forecast) and knew that the surf sucked. Still, I was there looking at pretty decent energy rolling into the South Bay but no shape at all to go along with it.

            Making the dawn patrol takes some commitment, doesn’t it? To wake up, pack a hot-water jug, load all your equipment, and make that drive to the beach. It’s like packing for a short airplane trip, but we never expect to come home without ever boarding the plane. These dawn patrols take time, and when we don’t paddle out, it’s time we don’t get back. We could’ve just stayed in bed and slept for an extra hour, worked on that story or novel you’ve been meaning to finish, read, workout, or just do whatever else you have to take care of during your precious time. TIME. My old platoon sergeant used to say that there’s nothing more precious than a soldier’s time.

            Yesterday, I said fuck it and paddled out with zero expectation, and as much as I’d like to set you up for a feel-good post about surfing crap being better than not surfing at all, I’m not going there. I knew the surf was shit, and it’s hard to turn a closeout into a legit stoke. Yeah, the water felt nice, the sun was warm on my face, and I could also hear the ripper in the lineup yell, “Fuck!” in frustration to every closeout he got. Even on my Beater, I didn’t fare much better, catching 2 inside waves that actually had shape for a short distance. Yet, the decision I made was conscious. All I wanted to do was get wet, and I got just that. A few tiny waves as a bonus? Sure. But to me it was an hour worth spending, and when I got home I still had time to do all my extra shit for the day.

            On this very morning I made the same dawn patrol but didn’t pull the trigger. What I want out of surfing wasn’t there for me today, for just the activity of getting wet had already been satisfied yesterday. This morning was even more gorgeous than yesterday: sunny, warm, offshore, inviting, uncrowded but with the same lackluster shape. Sure, there were plenty of guys out. I’m sure some got lucky and got decent rides, but the overall wave-lotto odds weren’t good to begin with.

There has to be a balance. If it’s crap, don’t force it, at least not two days in a row. You need it that bad, set yourself up for a day trip; hit the road and go where it’s firing. Or save yourself for when the dawn patrol actually works out. It will eventually. When it does, surf your fucking brains out. There are excuses not to surf when it’s crap, but none when it’s good in your backyard. That’s when you’ve got to be on it. Hold yourself to that.