2017 – 7 & 8 First Trestles Sesh of the Year 14JAN, SAT

I gave my wife the option of risking the high tide or staying local, but really I wanted her to choose local. Of course, I ended up shooting myself in the foot because she said she wanted a beach day down south. “We’ll be gambling against the high tide,” I said. Even though I hinted at staying, I granted her wish. It’s part of being a good husband. You gotta compromise.

We arrived at first light and scored parking in front of Churches. I could tell that the water was swampy and that activity was already slowing down, but the recent rain fall and runoff from the rivermouth still produced some nice rights. Knowing that this would be the first area to get crowded, we pushed it up to North Churches, but it looked too slow. Avoiding any chance of being over invaded, we paddled out at Middle Trestles where only a small pack of 3 guys sat. Unfortunately, 3 guys was all it took to make catching waves challenging. Sitting at the bottom of the point, they had dibs on the first waves to roll through. A few swung wide, and I managed a few turns. My best waves came from being sneaky, paddling under those fellas and scoring when they paddled out too far or scratched out.

Bri had a hard time, and I felt bad for her. Also, me being the asshole that I am, I partly blamed her for being there.

When the tide got too high around 0900, we called the session and hit Denny’s for breakfast. Their value meal is pretty legit. I mean, you can get full off of like 6 to 8 bucks. Not too shabby. By then I was feeling a lot better. Everything was going right. The waiter was cool as fuck, addressed my wife as senora, and Mexican music played from the kitchen; everyone was hustling. We took our time and headed back to Churches.

Parked directly in front of the surf again, we watched the longboarders go to work. The tide begin its swing back down. Nose riders did their showboating. Joel Tudor wannabes lost their boards on the rocks. I smirked at them as I dozed and took a short nap, Bri next to me doing the same.

#

We suited up again at noon. It was time. I figured we catch the tide swing and be in the water as the surf got better for shortboarding. There was a pack at the bottom and the top of Churches, so we literally sat in the middle, which seemed like an inconsistent saddle without much action. Here and there, a left would swing wide, and I actually got a few fun rides, even on the rights. Bri started catching, too, milking the small ones all the way to the inside.

I truthfully expected the crowd to thicken. It had to, especially with the tide going down and the wind still good, but that never happened. Instead, people started to clear out. The top of Churches was completely vacant, so Bri and I paddled there and had it to ourselves with only a few peeps who didn’t get in the way.

The swell size also went down with the tide. The surf was barely 2 to 3 feet, but it was still surfable. I was more picky, waiting for the racy lefts. My best wave was a triple hitter. I had plenty of waves where I just pumped for speed and practiced airs, but I must’ve looked lame because I couldn’t break my fins free. Even though I got a few rights, Bri was the standout, catching waves from the top all the way to where we had initially paddled out. I enjoyed seeing how her surfing has progressed. She’s surfing more top to bottom, stalling on the highline and crouching on the reentry, even throwing her arms forward for style and balancing. On a few waves, I even saw some small pails of water get tossed out the back.

That second sesh lasted about 2 hours and 15 minutes, a total redemption from the morning. We stopped at Sake2Me in Cerritos for AYCE sushi, and then went home. It was the first Saturday off we had together since September, and we made it worth it.

2017 – 6 End of Storm Streak 10JAN

Klaude had checked the surf around first light and said it as too swampy. Figures, since the tide swing was so high. So when I got off of work, I could have called it a lay day and maybe went to the gym, but the cams looked worth a look in person. On the way there, I saw surfers out at Shitpipe, and waves were breaking on the inside. At Hammerland, a lone surfer sat on the left. More surf signs appeared as I approached 45^th through Chevron’s wired fence. Yes it was overcast and lightly drizzling, but fuck it. Why not paddle out?

Reaching the sand I saw the surf was much smaller than the day before, but it was still worthy. Instead of walled lines the sections were makeable with shape, a few even offering some almond slots.

With a light, I paddled out north of 45^th to sit in between two surfers. At first I got the looks casting me as an invasive prick, but I maneuvered around them and never got in the way, showing etiquette and sharing. Whenever I took a wave, it was because I either had priority or no one else was in position.

Since I let Klaude reclaim his center find from the Futures he let me borrow, I surfed on the quads once more. The surf was more spilling and rippable than hollow, and I was pleasantly surprised with how the quads felt. With the extra speed, I rode out of my layback carves with more fluidity and ease. What a huge difference speed makes for maneuvers. Also, I’m realizing that since my Puddle Jumper isn’t made for performance, it never did offer the kind of surfing for critical maneuvers. I realize that now after looking at my surf stats speedwise. While my other buddies were posting faster MPH, I was getting more waves and turns because my board is more of a fun shape that’s meant to be a wave-catching magnet, especially in groveler conditions. But…the quads really did help me go faster.

A few waves did offer tiny barrels, but I didn’t perform well on these. I missed a slotting left by not putting in that one extra stroke to get in it, a lesson that my brother had lectured me on years ago. I was just so focused on what I was planning to do once I dropped in instead of being in the moment. Bad move, but all I could do was smile. I’m so blessed to live in El Segundo and be near surf. It’s not Trestles, but when there is local surf, it’s kind of a local paradise. With my recent work shift that allows me these late-morning windows for a session, my quality of life has greatly increased. I can go on and on, but I’ll cut it short.

Riches indeed don’t need to be measured by money. At least right now, I can gladly say that I’m spending as much time as I can in the water, and that just makes me so happy.

2017-5 Storm Surf

I got off a wet morning at work and checked the cams during my shuttle ride home. My internet was spotty, but I could tell that there were waves at Porto and a few heads out. They say not to surf after a rain, but some stubborn surfers say that it's usually the first rains that are the worst for catching a case of the nasties.

When I showed up to Porto, the rain had already stopped, and before me were consistent, offshore, storm peaks. Surfline reported it at 2-3 FT, but it was easily an extra foot in the flesh.

I was stoked. I high-kneed my way through the shore towards the water. A pack sat on 42nd, but the waves were scattered as far as the pier and the jetty. I couldn't believe it was this good, and for as many people that were out there, the semi-vacant lot reflected a light weekday crowd.

I sat on 45th with another guy while the pack stayed south of me. Even though the surf was consistent, a lot of the waves ran away too fast. My first two waves of the sesh were my best, rights. I bottom turned and got two backhand hacks but later realized that I really should have pulled in on the right hollow shoulder. My next wave was bigger, the turns more critical, but I still questioned if I surfed it right.

More guys started to paddle over towards me, so I moved more north towards the rocks, and then a nice outside right came my way. I told myself I'd pull in, but I ended up barrel dodging because the wave was so big.

After beating myself up over it, I made a commitment to myself to pull in next time.

Over the last week, I've been rewatching a lot of tutorials on surf tips. One was about backside tube riding, grabbing the rail to steer and put yourself into the right position. Back in Indo, my brother has told me to “pig dog” and stall without further explanation.

On the next rights, that weren't complete closeouts, I grabbed rail and held my line, purposely trying to drive for as much distance as possible. As usual, I didn't make it out, but I felt like I was making better progress, like I was at least traveling a bit further.

I blew a left that looked like a small easy barrel. All I could do was laugh.

The sun broke through the clouds a few times, but the sky was mostly overcast. As the tide got lower, the surf started closing out more. I walked away not a victor but not completely defeated either.