RICK’S BIRTHDAY WEEKEND PT.I, FRI 07NOV2014

Here's Rick my surf mentor and former platoon sergeant. When I'm in my 50s, I'll be lucky if I'm ripping like this guy.

Loc: Churches

Crew: Rick, Juan, Gary, Nate, Daniel

Time: 1100-1230

Conditions: 1-3 FT, glassy, sunny, cool, soft.

     Rick’s secured a campsite for the whole weekend. Unfortunately, the surf forecast is dismal, probably the main reason why some of his main homies have backed out of this trip. But Rick’s like a dad to me, and I don’t give a shit if it’s only half a foot out there. I’m going.

     It’s an early start. I get up at 0420, Rick picks me up at 0500, and then we rendezvous at Gary’s house in Torrance. From there, everyone else shows up. I’ve surfed with Nate in the past at DMJs, but this is the first time I’ve met Daniel. They’re both Russ’s childhood friends, and Gary’s coached them when they did hockey tournaments as teens.

     After battling traffic, we arrive at Churches in good time. With a six-and-a-half foot high tide, the surf is swamped out. The conditions are excellent. The sun’s shining brightly over two longboarders sitting in the lineup not catching shit. A fisherman on a longboard paddles out. There’s a crate on his deck, fishing pole, too. Yet, there is an occasional one footer that breaks. The surf wants to do it. A good sign with a tide this high.

     Then it’s breakfast at Pipes Café in San Clemente. It’s practically empty. Their $6.95 French toast special is a small unfulfilling meal, but thankfully the rest of the guys don’t know how to eat, so I polish off a couple their leftovers.

     By 1100, the tide is beginning to go out. Small-wave peaks are rolling in. There’s no complaining from any of us. No moans or groans about the surf. We all knew the forecast before coming out here, so there’s no bitching aloud.

     Gary lets me sample his 5’9 Lost RV. The thing is over 21 inches wide, so it should do great in these conditions.

     Nate and Daniel head to Lowers but stop short and paddle out with the rest of us when we set ourselves up at North Churches.

     The longboarder and SUP guy at the spot can’t be happy with our invasion. I’m trunking it with a rashguard, and fuckin’ A, the water’s cold. What happened to hot November? To compensate for the temp, I paddle with a purpose for every wave and move back and forth through the lineup.

     Rick gets a lot of waves on his green longboard. It’s a 9’6 singlefin. Gary’s on his Pill. One of the other guys is on the Lost Lazy Boy.

     The last time I had sampled the RV was at Jalama in big rippable conditions. Basically, I was using it in the wrong conditions. Now in legit small surf, I’m testing it out with my SA2 quad setup.

     Even though the surf is small, it’s still fun out here. Trestles, Churches, San Onofre just have good shape, and you don’t always need a longboard. Right now, the RV is working, and I’m catching waves pretty easily. Of course, not as easy as the Zippi, but I’m getting quality rides on this thing.

     I start off with some noserides. Some occasional lefts sprout up at three feet. The smooth shoulders line up perfectly as I pop up, get in my first two pumps, and wrap the RV back and rebound down the line again. As much as I love rippable surf, I know how to have fun in these conditions, too.

     It’s a short first session, more like a go out just to make the camping trip official. We head back, snack, and wait for the evening window to surf again.  

All set up for a dirty-old-men weekend. That's Juan, looking depraved and hunchbacked. 

EVENING GLASS, WED 05NOV2014

Loc: El Porto (45^th)

Crew: Bri

Time: 1530-1700

Conditions: 1-2 FT+, glassy, warm, drained tide.

     “There’s no wind,” says Bri, as she comes home from work. Usually we go to the gym. In fact, we had gone the last two days. “You wanna switch it up?”

     I pull up the surf cam. The tide is drained out. Small crumblers are breaking on the shore. It looks clean though. Who the hell would want to work out indoors in a gym when the weather’s this nice anyway?

     We load up the small-wave equipment and head to El Porto. Parked on top of 45^th Street, there isn’t a cloud in the sky. The sun is still high over the horizon, and the water’s so glassy that it looks like a gleaming lake stretched all the way out to the horizon. Small white lines break in the surf. I got the Zippi, Bri the NSP.

     It’s been a while since I pulled an evening session. Bri has to be tortured by my stories, on how back in the day, when I was 100% pure Barn, I used to drive straight to the beach after clocking out from my cubicle. Back then it didn’t matter. I never looked at cams or forecasts. Shitty days to others were good days to me because I couldn’t do much more on a wave besides go straight. Funny thing is, I mostly recall the evening surf being good back then. I had caught so many glassy evenings with good shape. When one progresses as a surfer and learns the good conditions from the bad, he gets picky. Nowadays, a good evening sesh is hard to come by.

     With the sun going down much earlier, the Porto lot is barely full. Crossing over to get to the stairs, I hear someone in a truck behind us talking to Bri. I turn around, and it’s Kurt from 26^th Street rushing the evening sesh, too.

     The air is warm. A low-tide line exposes the flat wet sand up to the shallow water line. People are trunking it. Guys awkwardly paddle on their foamies. Yup, it prime time for beginners—the Costco hour. I’ve been there. I remember.

     There’s a left in front of the bathrooms that’s working. Bri and I paddle there. A couple is body surfing the left. I want to be exactly where they are. Next to us, surfers shout to each other in German. Germans . . . they’re everywhere.

     I get a wave immediately, but the low tide has the waves racing fast. I pump to get distance but reach shallow water within seconds.

     We both get a lot of waves, but it’s hard to get any good down-the-line rides. No turns this evening. As the sun gets lower, more people come out. Some noobs trade off riding closeouts on a shortboard that has a GoPro mounted on it. Now the break in front of the sandwich shack has a peak. Groms on shortboards are getting decent rides, finishing off with fin-blasting maneuvers. Ah, must be nice to be so light. I wish I had started surfing in my teens.     

     Kurt leaves. The sun goes down, and the horizon turns into an orange blaze.

     We catch our last waves in and head back up to the wagon. Even though the surf wasn’t that good, the conditions were so pristine that we did ourselves some justice just by paddling out. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss this perfect SoCal evening. Shit . . . I even trunked it, no shirt. How often is November this warm?

     At the same time, there has to be balance. The surf has been small, and I can’t see myself paddling out in tiny shapeless surf every single day, but we had to do it at least once. Sometimes you have to surf the small days. 

BACK TO LEGIT DAWN PATROLS, MON 03NOV2014

Shape was improving when I left. This guy got partial coverup. He hooted so loud that we heard him from way up here.

Loc: North Huntington Beach

Time: 0615-0800

Conditions: 3-4 FT, offshore, consistent, uncrowded, fat.

     Since the clocks went back, it’s legit dawn patrols again. More time to surf in the morning now, and one can paddle out as early as 0530 if he wants.

     I get up at 0430, eat breakfast, and I’m on the road by 0515. It looks like it’s still night time without a hint of light over the horizon. Traffic is sparse. Everyone seems to be half asleep still, as cars swerve slightly in every lane.

     I reach HB before 0600. No surf signs apparent. I’m the only one here besides a few dog walkers. HB is much more wide open and vast than the South Bay when looking east. The sky here glows more orange than pink. Below, dark lines roll in consistently, but there’s a problem. Too much tide. I can tell. The waves are fat and a little racy. It doesn’t look like the peaky barrel buffet from Friday. Regardless, it’s manageable, and the shape is much better than what Manhattan Beach has to offer.

Doesn't look too appetizing, but it's consistent. There's potential.

     There’s a guy with a tent at the bottom of the cliffs. Not sure if he had spent the night. No one else is on the beach while I warm up. No surfers. Ground zero. First one in.

     I have my holy 3/2 that’s dying for retirement, but I don’t want to bust out my 4/3 yet because it’s not cold enough, so I must keep it in rotation. As cool water enters my wetsuit through the ripped seals along my knee, crotch, and back, I feel that the water’s still warm despite the cold air.

     The peaks are a bit wampy, and I get jostled around a little on the duckdives. Still, it’s an easy paddle out.

     I turn and go on a right. I think about crouching, but the wave isn’t going hollow, so I pump instead. No turns. The wave runs away.

     It takes some time to figure the waves out, but pretty soon I find a good spot to sit that has decent lefts.

     I love the shape in HB. Soft mounds show up on the outside, and as soon as they hit the sand bar, they just stand up. My first left breaks just like that, and paddling into it is so easy. No barrels today. I pump down the line, get a wrap around cutback, and connect a second turn. And that’s how most of my morning goes. I pick off the lefts and get as many turns as possible.

     As the morning progresses, a few other surfers paddle out. Some guy on a Costco foamie barebacks it nearby. I’m already a little chilly, so I don’t know how he’s managing. Even with the light crowd, no one sits on me. Guys show up and watch the surf from the cliff. Most leave.

So many breaks I still haven't surfed on the Cali coast, but I've surfed enough to know that SoCal is paradise.

     The big sets don’t line up well. They look like they will, but they just wall up. I paddle into one of these bombs, and the backwash just lifts me on the pop up. Next thing you know I’m air dropping, weightless. I resurface in the same spot. I look up. Fuck. Like six guys saw that.

     I get a good layback snap on my wave of the day. I pulled it off on a section that was standing up. It’s so imperative for the face to be a little vertical because it makes the layback so much easier to ride out of. I try to finish the wave with another one, but I don’t ride out of it.

     With the tide going down, I’m hoping that the waves will go hollow. There’s one left where I pull in and drive a little in the tube before it closes out. A decent attempt.

     I leave the water at 0800. Not bad. Surfed for just about two hours and didn’t have to feed the meter. Before leaving, I snap a couple of pics. It was still worth the drive.

     The only thing that sucks is how much traffic I hit on the way home. Next time, I need to have breakfast in the area or at least bring my computer or something.

     Even though movement is stop and go, I’m still satisfied from this morning’s surf. Listening to instrumentals on the radio, I mind surf my way home.