Tue., Oct. 22nd, 2019: Losing Track of 5 Sessions

Loc: Manhattan Beach

            I’ve fallen behind on this blog. One of the reasons why I stopped was because it was a lot of work to document every single session, so I’ve decided not to do that to myself anymore. So, what can I report and what progress has been made in the last week?

            The only days I didn’t surf was last Thursday and this past Saturday. Other than that, I haven’t skipped a beat.

 This past Sunday was one of the best local sessions I’ve had, perfect for beginner barrel training. There was a good windswell that day, about shoulder high, and the peaks were a little fast and “bowly.” I was on my Lost Puddle Jumper that day, and that decision was a total score. I had the wrong fin setup, being that my center fin on my first gen. Blackstix broke long ago, so I use a composite fin in its place. But…as my friend Gary would say, “It’s about the Indian, not the arrow,” so I made do.

            That morning I was pulling in, but I couldn’t make it out. I focused on at least getting that first pump to try and get the momentum I needed. Finally, on this one left, I made it clean out. No doggy door, just in and out. Even though it was small, it felt like a major feat. All around, most guys were looking for the turns. Lately, I just don’t see the waves for that purpose.

            The bad side, that morning I realized that my backhand tube riding skills are terrible. I was pulling in and pig dogging, but my wave perspective going right is different; I feel like I’m never where it’s hollow, or that I just can’t get any cover up at all. At first, I thought it was the waves, but I’m sure it’s my technique. I have broken the habit of immediately stalling, and I focus more on having my forearm and elbow for my emergency brakes while I keep as much momentum as possible.

            There was one right that was a bomb, and I grabbed rail right away. The wave felt big. I was out of my comfort zone. As I rode the wave closer to shore, it stood up more. I’m not sure if I should have stalled, had more gall to hold my line, or just plain and simply rode it out, but I freaked a little and got bucked off of my stance. As the wave was curling over me, I ended up riding out the wave on my ass. I don’t count it. I was in there, but I lost it to folly.

            None the less, friendly local Kurt called out to me in the lineup and said that he saw me in the barrel. On the next wave, I tried to redeem myself, but foolish redemption had me in the wrong mind frame, and I went to late. My board purled where the wave bottomed out, and I ended up having one of my nastiest wipeouts that morning.

            Yesterday, I went back with the Catch Surf Skipper with the pure motivation to practice my backhand tube riding. I was on a mission. Even thought the surf tapered off a bit, I still took all the set waves and pulled in. No turns. I didn’t want them, and I was on the wrong board for that anyway.

            Sadly, there were at least two lefts that I should’ve made it out on. The shoulders were perfect, and I got under the lip as they curled, but I just couldn’t get any distance.

            However, at least on my backhand, I did work on some bad habits, like looking down at my board as I grab rail instead of looking down the line to focus on where I’m going. Also, I’ve gotten a little bit better at wiping out backhand. Of course, that’s no guarantee that any barrel wipeout is “safe.”

            Today was another story. The surf was less consistent and the NW finally tapered off, leaving the S swell that usually wraps into the South Bay walled. It wasn’t walled, but the sets were fast, dumpy, and breaking in shallow water. I should’ve used the Skipper.

            My boy Klaude came out, and it was great getting some face time with him again. I’m not sure if I’m going to hit it tomorrow. I think I usually feel that way until night time when it’s time to pack the car…and I usually do.

Tue., Oct. 15th, 2019: Surprise, Surprise at Shampoo Central

Loc: El Porto, 34^th to Rosecrans

Time: 0800-1000

Conditions: offshore, consistent, 3 Ft.

Board: Catch Surf Skipper

            Just call it a hunch, but if the forecast is calling for a slight bump in WNW windswell with a few south swell reinforcements, I bet on a fun local session this morning.

            Everything was prepacked the night before, and even though I had planned on waking up at first light, it just didn’t happen. I woke up with the wife at about 0700, made her coffee, drank some water, gave her a kiss, and headed towards Porto.

            Already at 0730 my secret parking spots were gone. Also, Tuesday is street cleaning on Highland Ave., so street parking was super scarce. I cruised past 26^th St. and got a glimpse of a set coming through. It looked like it was dumpy around three-to-four feet; it looked…fun. There was a pulse. There was a pulse of surf, and…I…was…not…ON IT!

            The search for parking became desperate. I found two spots on the hill, but some constructions workers literally beat me to them seconds before I arrived. I was pissed. I even honked my horn and threw my arms up in their direction.

            After trying to calm myself down, I focused on more parking. I kept missing and missing and missing, and then…FUCK YES. PARKING!!!

            I tried to calm down, to tell myself to take my time. The hardest part of the morning was over. I needed to breathe, relax, put on my sunscreen at a normal pace, and just change into my wetsuit without being over eager. I was like a Soldier fresh from deployment who hadn’t been with a woman in a year who was about to get the pussy.

            The wait was excruciating, but I finally grabbed the skipper and locked my car. Could you imagine if I lived in Hawaii? No wetsuits. It would be so much faster and easier.

            Now I needed to make a clutch decision. I was right by Tower 34. Should I walk towards 30^th St. Tower to see some of the locals I haven’t seen in a while or walk closer to Rosecrans where some of my other friends like to surf?

            Waves were coming in everywhere, but they looked a little fast, sectiony, and dumpy, especially right out front. One surfer was already there, and he hadn’t sold any of his rides. For whatever reason, I decided to just paddle out right there. At this point of my surfing life, I can’t adjust my life and schedule to everyone else. Of course, for planned occasions, yes, but just on the everyday sesh? No.

            I chose the Skipper because I had a feeling that today’s waves would be more for pulling in, and I wasn’t wrong. The waves were fast and just a little hollow because high tide hadn’t kicked in yet. It was barrel practice day.

            I just kept pulling in, channeling my inner Mason Ho. Over and over again I was getting glimpses of the tube. On one solid pinch I even had both hands out in front of me like I was presenting an invisible bowl. I traveled as far as I could before getting crunched and munched. I’ve progressed and picked up new habits that actually make closeouts fun. Back in the day, this would’ve been a disappointment.

            And then, because the Surf Gods let it be so, the shape got just a little bit better. All of a sudden, the shoulders became more defined. Man, I swear, it was the most fun I’ve had locally in a while. This one wave I just pulled in, two-hand stalled, waited, waited, and waited, and then the lip started curling over me. I doggy doored it and punched through, but I was trying to maintain my balance in the white wash. Next thing, I was tripping in ankle deep water. No, it was not a legit in and out, but gawd damn did it feel great, invigorating. Nothing wasted today. Everything worth it. From that moment on, the session had already been paid for.

            Then this older chick paddled out. We talked for a little bit, and then in the middle of conversation another sweet gem came though. The old me would have pumped down the line and cut it back, but not the new and improved me, Matthew the Aging Surfer, not at all. Nope. It was so natural to, once again, two-hand stall, slow it down, see the shoulder curl and start chandeliering over my head. I wasn’t deep but it was legit shampoo action. Same thing, I tried to doggy door it. I was leaning back hard on my tail to hold my balance as I punched through. Ahhh, I almost held it, but I fell on the inside again. Still, IT FELT SO GOOD! I never, ever, ever thought I’d ever come close to getting barreled, and a day like this, to come so close and at least get some coverup, a day like this is HUGE for my progression and to  just enhance my love for this beautiful art. It’s like I’m opening an untapped dimension in my surfing.

            I ended up drifting towards Rosecrans, where I got my biggest closeout bomb of the day. A guy who had seen me on it said, “Well that was kind of scary. It was like a perfect shot when you were under there.”

            “Yeah,” I said, “but I didn’t make it out. It was still fun to pull in, though.”

            Little by little, a few more people paddled out, but it wasn’t crowded at all. There was still enough room for everyone, and after two hours, when I left, the wind was still good. The waves were still breaking, and I ended up leaving a bunch of rides on the table.

Mon., Oct. 14th, 2019: Be Your Own Surf Report

Loc: El Porto, 45^th St.

Time: 0800-0900

Conditions: glassy, 2 Ft.

Board: Zippifish

            Don’t always put full stock into Surfline. In fact, I had my eye on both Surfline and Magic Seaweed, and all I could tell is that one of them was lying to me. In any event, Surfline definitely forecasted the surf to be so lackluster that only a fool would even bother doing a surf check. Well, lucky for me, I am a fool.

            I scored free parking where I normally do and trudged my way down to 45^th. I wasn’t expecting much, I hadn’t really seen a wave break before I parked, but I did notice a few heads out. Once I made it down to the lot and saw the other surfers out there, I truly felt like I understood. Yes, I never thought I’d be the surfer who sees ankle slappers and says, “Fuck yes, this is me, this is who I am! I am stoked!” And now, to see how many other surfers still opted to paddle out despite the forecast, I truly realize that I am one of them. I am that guy who just wants to paddle out every day. I see my future self, old and weathered, still doing this routine for as long as I can.

            So I paddled out at 45^th. Nothing to really see here. I didn’t expect much, so I was fine just waiting for some ankle slappers, and then it happened. It was bigger than ankle slappers. We’re talking thigh and hip slappers! But the waves were breaking a little long and fast. I would’ve been better off with the Skipper, but I thought it’d be weaker.

            Even then, the surf still got a little better. With the tide going higher, there were these occasional set waves that broke further out at about waist high. I still pulled in, never making it out, but it was a lot funner than expected; better than both Goldenwest and the local afternoon sesh on Saturday.

            I don’t have any memorable rides, but I just remember feeling good, like I had scored. Despite the forecast, I chanced it and had to see and experience it for myself, and it was well worth it.