WINDSWELL OF UNORGANIZED CONFUSION, THU 6.02.2011 EVE

Nice. . . . Special appearance by "Nick the Pick.

Crew: Klaude, Nicky, Shan
Time: 1915-2015, 1 hr.
Conditions: 4 feet, onshore and completely blown out, strong southern current, choppy, unorganized, sunny, and cold.

    After the morning session, I thought that taking a sunset patrol was in order. Shan and Klaude kept contacting me and saying that they wanted to go. I was deep in Westchester at the time and saw that the wind wasn't that strong, but the El Porto cams looked like it was blown out. Klaude said, “Well, if I drive there I'm gonna have to paddle out.” He called me back a couple minutes later and said, “All right, I'm heading over there.” I text Shan and told him that we were going.

    As I got closer to the beach I noticed the wind getting stronger. When I pulled into the lot, I saw the consistent whitewater being blown on the inside. The wind caused some of the waves to jack up for a potential ride, but it was kind of sketchy. About a half dozen surfers started to paddle out for the evening session. I was pretty pessimistic.

    Klaude pulled up with a passenger. It was Nicky AKA Nick the Pick. I hadn't seen him for a while. When I saw him I knew that we had to paddle out. His appearance was a special occasion, and with me going to Bali soon I wouldn't be surfing with him for a while. Shan pulled up, and we started to change. We put an hour in the meter at about 1910. The water was cold like the morning. We paddled just north of the shitters and north of the small crowd. I was surprised that I was able to make it out. The inside was so consistent that I expected to be stuck duckdiving the whole time, but I found a channel in the mess. When I got to the line, I turned around and saw that I had drifted all the way by the sandwich shack. The other three were paddling into the pack of other surfers.
   
    The waves were a bit unpredictable. Some waves jacked up but didn't break, only to have a big wave behind them that was already breaking. The surface was choppy and bumpy which made it a little difficult to paddle. I caught a couple waves that only gave short rides. Though peaky with a steep drop, they would bog out into nothing on the bottom turn. The conditions were so random that there were some open shoulders at times. I saw Shan get two long rides, and I saw the shoulder holding from behind as he let out his trademark “woo-hoo” and went all the way to shore. I also saw Nicky catch a couple waves too. Klaude seemed to be in the impact zone a lot. I later found out that he went for a lot of close outs.

    I caught one left that had a shoulder. I bottom turned and started my cutback on the lip. I crouched down low and had my arms out for balance. I  pulled off a grinding arc back into the bottom of the wave. Or . . . it just felt like that, but in reality I looked like a kook. It's just so hard to tell. I have no idea if I actually pulled this off, but it felt good. The wave bogged out at the bottom of the turn.

    I had my best wipeout this month, but I don't know if “best” is the right word. I went for a big close out right in front of Shan as he was paddling back. I basically wiped out in between two closing sections, in which I had the middle face. My upper torso got wrapped in my leash for a bit, and then something weird happened. I usually resurface right away, but the struggle I had with my leash actually kept me under a while. I had to put a lot of effort in getting back to the surface. I expected to take another on the head. When I resurfaced Shan was right there. He said, “Man, I was wondering where you were. You were down there for a while.” A little freaked out, I paddled back to the line up.

    I looked at my watch and gave the signal to catch the last wave. Just then, a random wall with a right hand shoulder formed right next to me. I made the drop and noticed a perfect smooth face that opened up. I bottom turned then hit the lip putting as much force on the tail as possible. I've recently found that leaning forward on the turn (as if falling) helps to keep momentum for reentry. I heard the spray of water which sounded like dry-wall being spackled on the side of a house. I tried another top turn but fell. When I resurfaced, The fellas were stoked for the wave that I got, and they said that I got some legit spray. Despite the shitty conditions, that feeling on that turn made my whole session.

    When we got to shore it was past 2015, and the Manhattan Beach parking enforcement was driving back and forth with their lights flashing. Worried we would get tickets, Klaude and I ran back to our cars. The parking enforcement lady was very rude and told Klaude, “You just HAD to go for that last wave, didn't you?!” Apparently, we were supposed to be out of the lot at exactly 2000, and she was writing parking tickets. Nope, no time for goodbyes. All of us jumped in our cars, soaked wetsuit and all, and drove out. I pulled into one of the small El Porto streets and double parked so I could change. On the way home, I saw Klaude and Nicky at the 45th St. Chevron. I parked and said my goodbyes to them.

    I recently went through a phase where I couldn't paddle out if it looked like shit, especially after surfing down south so much. But as of late, I've had a lot of fun and have been surprised when the conditions look like crap. It just comes to show, you never know until you're out there. Once again, one wave can make your session. The dollar menu was worth it on this occasion. It was enough to hold me over and give me something to think about until next time, but next time might be in Bali.
   

LEFTS & RIGHTS AT 26TH, THU 6.02.2011 MOR

LEFTS & RIGHTS AT 26TH, THU 6.02.2011 MOR

Crew: Solo
Time: 0900-1000, 1 hr.
Conditions: 3 feet, peaky, strong north current, consistent, on shore wind, sunny, balls freezing water, and big mutant dolphins.

    After surfing the whole Memorial Day weekend, I had a shit load of blogs to catch up on. Too bad I didn't have any electrical connections while camping. If I did, I would have done my blogs there. The end result was me staying up until 0200 Thursday morning, tired, and fighting to remember details that I lost over time and sleepiness. I meant to wake up earlier, but 0800 was the best that I could do. The post effects of the camping weekend took a serious toll, as I've still been pretty tired the days that followed.

    Even though my whole morning was almost shot in the ass, the sun was bright, and the wind was still non existent. I headed to Porto to take a look. I was happy to find a couple peaks that were working. They didn't look that great, but the right-hander in front of the tanks seemed to be working, and I even saw surfers in front of 45th. The waves seemed a little close together, especially on the inside, so I decided to have a look at Parks. Either way, I would rather park for free than pay a quarter for every ten minutes (fuckin' meters).

    I couldn't really tell what 26th was doing from on top of the hill. All I could tell was that there was some lifeguard recruit training going on, the main crowd was to the north, and a small group of surfers were to the south. When I was all suited up and locked up my car, I noticed that the onshore winds started to pick up.

    It was hard to tell how good it was from the sand. The second I touched the water I couldn't believe how cold it was. It's June, and the water is still balls freezing. WTF? I braced the cold and finally woke up upon my first duckdive. On the way out I saw two good waves with decent peaks form right in front of me. The first wave had a surfer going left and the next had a guy going right. When I sat at the take off zone I was able to take full account of everything. The waves weren't perfectly consistent, but the lulls weren't that long. With every set came three or four decent three foot peaks. They weren't perfect because the rides were a little short since the distance from shore wasn't very far. Also, the wind already put some texture on them, but the conditions were great for a local surf session.

    Whenever I surf local right after surfing Trestles I notice that I don't surf the same. The clear difference is due to the wave, and it's almost unfair to compare. But if you're a good surfer, then you can surf in any conditions, and that's what I need to strive for. 

    The peaks gave both lefts and rights. I sat where the lefts would pop up. I haven't surfed consistent lefts in a long time, and I almost hate to admit how much my forehand sucks. I feel like I can't do any good turns going left. Actually, I feel like I'm thinking too much when I'm going left which probably takes away from the experience. I tried to tell myself to just surf, have fun, feel the wave, and everything else should come naturally.
   
    The lifeguard training ended, and the 26th St. locals took over the main peak again. I spent a good deal of the session fighting the current. Some huge mutant dolphines were swimming through the line up and jumping out of the water. They were on a direct path towards me. I cringed and nervously waited their arrival, but then they jumped out and scared the shit out of the surfer in front of me. Right on.

    I got a right that I got three turns on. No, not clean turns, but fun. The wind got stronger and kept knocking down the waves. However, the swell kept the peaks coming, just more choppy and bumpy now. My last wave was a right, and it felt like I got a such a good top turn off of the lip that I almost turned the board completely around. Of course, I probably didn't. It just felt this way, but it felt good even though it probably didn't look like it.

    The inside was a little consistent and it was a little work to get to the outside. After that wave I saw that it was 1000. I needed to meet my friend for breakfast, so I had to leave anyway.

     I wish I made it earlier. I could imagine how nice it was without the wind. Those peaks had to be clean.

CHURCHES--COMPLETELY BEACHED PT.2: MON 5.30.2011 Noon

CREW: Rick
TIME: 1300-1430, 1 hr. and 30 min.
CONDITIONS: light onshore winds, warm, sunny, 3 - 5 feet, inconsistent, extremely crowded.

    I really should have sat this session out. By the time we ate and broke down camp, I was officially D-U-N, done. Loading up the car was already a bitch in the hot sun, but I didn’t want to let Rick down. He barely gets to go camping as much as he’d like, and he was as stoked as I was the very first day that I arrived, so I couldn’t let him surf alone.

     By now the weather was almost perfect. Everyone that chickened out after Sunday’s storm was now in for their redemption that Monday. Longboarders crowded the line up. I didn’t argue or make a suggestion to paddle anywhere else. Rick wanted Churches, and he got it. We paddled out into the main pack. I sat on the shoulder and didn’t get shit while Rick inserted himself into the thick of things once again. I paddled until I was north of everyone. My spot was less consistent, but there were random rogue sets that broke in the five foot range on the outside. I was able to get a couple of them, but the sections kept running away every time I top turned--probably a sign that I was tired. I really wasn’t pulling off any good turns for the afternoon. Rick and I got separated. After an hour and a half I took a wave towards the inside. I turned around and saw a longboarder in an Oakley wetsuit coming down the line headed straight for me. I was in his way, a deer in the headlights. It seemed like there was nothing I could do to get out of his way. He had to ditch his board. I felt embarrassed; I needed to get out already. As I reached the shore I saw Rick speeding down the line on a right, dodging and weaving his way through longboarders trying to get out of his way. “Fuckin’ guy,” I said to myself. At least he was having a field day; I was glad for that.

    We parted ways. I was so goddam tired that I pulled over in San Juan Capistrano for an hour long nap. I drove to my friend Dan’s house to drop off his camping gear. It took me at least an hour to unload all my shit into my apartment. I was beyond exhausted, and my poor feet were torn to shreds. I immediately resumed getting things together for Bali. So tired. What a great weekend, but maybe that fourth day wasn’t necessary, at least not without Lauren.