THE RETURN OF THE RAINY SESSIONS: WED 05OCT2011 MOR

Crew: Solo

Time: 0700-0900, 2 hrs

Conditions: Rain, rain, rain! Still good texture. 

I have this trip to Baja coming up on Friday. One of the reasons for surfing so much this week is to get my conditioning back up. It’s drizzling as I’m leaving El Segundo. The rain seems light, but the faster I drive the more my windshield gets pelted. Passing Porto, I notice an open parking spot on 45^th. I keep the mental note. I can’t find free parking by the lifeguard station at 26^th, so I park up the hill on Highland Ave. By now the rain is evident. I have a vantage point overseeing everything in front of Parks. It’s overcast again, the wind is blowing side shore, and the rain is cold. My jacket is already spotted and turning a dark from the wetness. 26^th doesn’t look good. 

I swing back around to 45^th, and that same parking spot is open. I sit in my car and look at the little view that I have. It’s hard to see anything, but a couple things are going through my mind. Since it’s raining, there should be some nasty urban runoff draining into the sea. It’s only gonna get worse as the day progresses. It’s better that I paddle out now before it gets too bad. Also, this is my last chance to surf before Baja. I’d like to keep Thursday as a rest day so I can be fresh on Friday. 

I step out and feel the stream of downhill rainwater pass through my toes. A couple cars pass to check the surf. I start my trot and get to the sand. The sight of the ocean surprises me. Despite the wind, the rain is keeping the texture in check. It’s that good rain surf, where the water is still somehow smooth. Sure, there are the ripples that blanket the surface, but overall it’s not jumbly and washy. 

Now it’s been days later and looking back on that session, I can’t remember one wave that I caught for the life of me, but yet I surfed two friggin’ hours. One thing that I recall, sitting out there, was being captured by the moment. It’s not something I get to do often, surfing in the rain. So much overcast, I could barely make out PV because of the white, misty, sheets in the air. I just remember thinking, “No one’s out, the surf’s decent, I should be at home snuggled under the covers, but I’m so happy to be here.” I could imagine how many people woke up that morning, took a look outside, and said, “Fuck it.” Bad call.

Actually, I do remember a wave. I was talking to another guy in the water. I caught a long left that was more of a racer than a turner. That other guy hooted me on as I passed him. It added to the good energy of the morning. 

I love my rainy little town

I got back to my car before the meter maids arrived. I parked in the lot and changed. The rain turned sporadic. Other surfers just showed up. On my drive home I felt fulfilled. Sitting at home with a cup of hot chocolate in my hand, the rain continued to pound outside. Cozy and full of warmth, I needed nothing else.

WHAT A GOOD CARVE CAN DO: TUE 04OCT2011 MOR

Crew: Solo

Time: 0700-0800

Conditions: Overcast, inconsistent, long lulls, 2 ft, occasional 3-4.

            Last night I sent out the mass text about surfing in the morning. J said that he’s down, Shan said he’ll be there, and Francis opted to sleep in. 

            Upon walking out of my apartment in the morning, I notice that the sidewalk is a little wet, so is my car. The thought occurs to me that it rained last night. Driving past the LAX lookout, I see the flag blowing a little. I’m already expecting to get skunked. J calls, and he’s already parking. It’s been a little while since I’ve seen J too. I apologize to him for not being in touch to talk about our Baja trip we have coming up because I’ve been busy. It’s still a dark morning, and the atmosphere is a heavy, gray filter hindering the sun’s power. It’s such a dismal site; the creeping sun and dark sky give a midnight-blue appearance. 

            “There’s a lot of people,” says J. 

            I look out. It appears that the high school surf team is practicing. I immediately get the flashbacks. Last fall this was a common site; every morning those kids would be out there, even in the shittiest conditions. They paddle out no matter what. It’s a good lesson for us all. 

            J says it’s not worth it. I understand. The water’s not as messed up by the wind, in fact . . . the wind is weaker at the beach, but the peaks are small and low. It looks like long two-footers with little corners at the end. It’s still drizzling a little. I tell him that I’m gonna see what Porto’s doing. He says he’ll follow. 

            I pull into a half-filled lot. As I park J calls. “How’s it look?” he asks.

            “Eh, it’s all right. It looks like two feet. Not much better.”

            “Okay, dude. I think I’m just going to work early.”

            J can only surf for an hour in the mornings. I don’t blame him for his call. I send a text to Shan and Francis to let them know how it looks. I’m so close to turning around, and then the left just south of 45^th starts working; a set comes through. Easy three-foot waves start peeling . . . unridden. That’s all I need to see. It’s about a quarter to seven, and I’d like to get a solid hour before the meters require their daily raping of my funds. 

            There’s no warming up this morning. I suit up and hit the water. The lineup’s still empty. I hate myself for being filled with nervous energy. It’s caused from the emptiness in the water. I have this spot all to myself, and there are waves here. I need to catch waves before it gets crowded; the pressure’s on.

            I paddle over a wave half way to the line up. I duck dive a little wave three-quarters to the line up. In the distance, I see the set coming. I prefer to not “turn and go.” I love paddling out, sitting in the lineup, and getting a feel for the spot before actually surfing, but this wave is coming right for me. I’m already breathing hard from the paddle and breathing even harder for this wave. It’s an easy four feet on the face and building. Before I even get to the lineup, I turn around just in time to slide down the face. It’s a long building shoulder, but the shape is holding. I’m racing to get to the end of the shoulder, so I end up pumping down the line. It’s not the greatest wave of my life, but for the crappy morning I was expecting, this is indeed a jewel. I’m stoked when I get to the lineup. The majority of the surfers are by the shitters and the sandwich shack. I want another, but the lull is long. Before the next set arrives, people start trickling in towards my area. I give up on waiting and paddle a little north to escape the invaders. At the north of the tanks, I catch a fast right. I can see that it’s forming into a wall and going to close, but before it does, I negotiate a bottom turn and carve the lip. The feeling is almost indescribable, but I believe it to be one of the sensations that we as surfers strive for every session. The lip was so soft, textureless, like a blanket of silk. I pushed on the tail with the balls of my feet as I torqued my body, pointing my nose back down. The carve itself slowed my turn down for a moment, but it was still a smooth and fluid motion, seamless. I redirected myself back down the line and pumped the face before it closed out. Again, it was just a moment that was barely a couple seconds, but the feeling itself left an impression, that even writing this post days later I can go back to it. The gray skies, the lone paddle out, the solo first wave, and the carve that sustained me. 

            The waves were good, but they were few and far between because of the long lulls. I paddled back in at 0800. I only surfed for an hour, but I was so happy that I didn’t turn around and go home. The day was made in one carve.

FAMILIAR FACES, GOOD TIMES MON 03OCT2011 MOR

Crew: Francis & Shan

Time: 0700-0930

Conditions: ?

            After giving up my weekend for work, I was dying to get back into the water. Of course, whenever I’m not in the water, it’s good. Klaude, Francis, and the whole crew said that they scored local on Saturday. With everyone back doing the weekly grind, Francis was available to surf on Monday. Surprisingly, I got a phone call from Shan who I haven’t seen since I left to Bali. He told me that he’s been busy with his new photography business and barely in the water. I extended the invite, but I didn’t expect much. When I came back from Bali I called and told him I had a souvenir for him. He never came to get it, so I gave it to someone else. I’ve gotten over being upset with flakiness. Wise words from my friend Klaude: “Don’t make an ‘event’ out of it. Let them know you’re surfing. If the show, they show. If they don’t . . . fuck it.”

            I woke up and headed to 26^th. I hunted for free parking and then sent a text to Shan and Francis. Shan replied and said, “There’s parking down here by the lifeguard station. Come down.” Well, he proved me wrong that’s for sure. I parked, and we caught up a little before hitting the water. Francis was a little behind us.

            The morning was a beautiful one. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, barely anyone out, but there was a little wind that made the water choppy. The shape was just average. We tried to score the left just south of the tower. We got a handful of rides, some with little corners and some just fizzling out. Francis joined us. The wave of the day went to him. He and a longboarder were competing for the wave. The other guy gave a nice courtesy. They looked at each other, he said, “Go ahead,” and Francis went for it. We saw him disappear behind the left going backside then emerging off the top and hitting the lip before reentering. The interruption of the water’s path gave a voluminous spray of water out the back. At that time only one thought passed my mind: Francis rips. 

            At about the 1100 mark we decided to paddle in. Shan was already at the lot completely changed. Francis had to get ready for work. 

Shan asked, “You know any other good places for breakfast around here, since you know a lot of places.” 

I thought about it and suggested Mandy’s in El Segundo. I told him there is a decent breakfast special there. Then, the thought of pancakes consumed me, so I told him I’d meet him.

The late morning atmosphere at Mandy’s was mellow. The usual old timers that fill up the spot in the morning were gone. I love this place. I ordered the breakfast special (two pancakes, two sausages, two bacon, and two eggs for $3.99 are you out of your mind?!) and Shan got the all American. It was actually nice catching up with him. He was one of the guys who always came out to surf. We had a good talk and then went our ways. It ended up being a good morning. Surf followed by coffee and pancakes, all with a friend I haven’t seen in a while. Once again, surfing brings people together.