Anti-Tudor style

I must have been inspired after finding that Joel Tudor photo because this morning I was walking as much as I could. Of course, my face and stance were not in that classically relaxed Tudor pose, my expression and carriage were what could probably only be described as "OH MY GOD!!!"

No, seriously, only the first wave was like that. Then I realized how fantastic Doc turns. Doesn't matter where I am on the board. Also, I'm really good at walking backward on the board in a hurried panic, so there's virtually no idiocy if I'm already on the wave. Most of my kooky moments came today at the end of the session, when I was tired and took off on steep waves without paddling enough.

PS. Humming tune today: "Mona Lisa"

Monday morning wave... on Thursday

Jack English photo of Joel Tudor.

I was just cleaning up some of my folders and I found this image that I saved from my "Monday Morning Wave" email from Surfer's Path Magazine.

I could look at this photo forever.

Saturday, Sunday, Surprising!

Surprise! I surfed two days in the row for the first time in I don't know how long... 6 weeks?

Surprise! The waves were okay Saturday when the tide dropped a little during the second shift. But the vibe was great because the sun was out and it was nice to see faces I hadn't seen in forever. I think everybody felt the same way because we were all clumped together on the same two peaks even though it was breaking in the same weak way all over the beach.

Surprise! Sunday, we had mopey faces seeing the on-shores and the high tide at 8:30am, but once we dragged ourselves into the water it ended up being really fun! The waves died on the inside and you had to really work to stay in it, but it was good practice for me. I left early only because I had the boy and the dog waiting for me in the parking lot, otherwise, I might have stayed longer. I actually didn't notice how cold the water was because I was having so much fun!

This week the high tide remains at dawn patrol, so I don't think I'll be surfing before work until later in the week when the tide swings away.

PS. a propos of nothing...
Saturday's whistling song: "Yellow Submarine"

Surfed, cold, tired

The sun was out and I saw some pals I hadn't seen in a long time.

Looked at it,

Drove home.

Yesterday, too.

Hopefully tomorrow is not "lather, rinse, repeat."

Am I an Environmentalist or Egoist?

I was willing to take a chance on okay surf conditions tomorrow (hopefully no rain, some swell, and not much storm bump on the water), but then I read
this article about a former game show host who died this morning in a plane crash in the ocean just south of the Santa Monica Pier close to where I usually surf.

I immediately thought, "Great. More petroleum chemicals in the ocean to irritate my sinuses."

Then I thought what a bad person I was to have that be my very first thought.

Oh, yeah...

So that's why I surf. I'd almost forgotten; it's been so long.

I went to bed relatively early last night with the intention of getting in the water no matter what. If it was shorebreak, I'd paddle. If it was flat, I'd paddle. If it was windy... you get the idea. Lots of false starts with my alarm this morning. It was set for 6am and I woke up to all the disturbing in-depth news Amy Goodman could tell me on KPFK. I had a vague thought that there was plenty of light to already be in the water if the temperature was 65 degrees, so SNOOZE.

Nine minutes later, I assessed the light and my bladder. SNOOZE.

Nine minutes later, I actually sat up. Still waffling. And cold. I buried myself back under the down comforter and flannel sheets. SNOOZE.

Nine minutes later, my brain was actually awake enough to guilt me into getting up. Or maybe that was my bladder that did the trick.

At the beach, I did what I told myself I wouldn't do. I went to the end of the boardwalk and looked at it. Mushy, shifty. I'm goin' home. Frank's suiting up with a student in the parking lot. I reconsider and continue staring at the water. How cold is that water? I'm goin' home. Gloved Guy just got an okay inside wave. I reconsider. It's been almost a month since I last surfed, do I want this to be my comeback? I'm goin' home.

This inner dialogue goes on in my head for about ten minutes, even while I'm heading back to the car. For some reason, I suit up and head out. And I'm glad I did. Yeah it was cold, yeah there were lulls, yeah it was mushy. But every so often there'd be a nice peaky wave with lots of oomph and a surprising shoulder. My first wave opened up to a shoulder I couldn't believe. It flattened out in sections, but I actually remembered how to turn Doc and keep him in trim to find the nice fast pocket again. Oh yeah... I forgot how good that felt!

(It's like when you don't have sex for a while and you forget to miss it?)

My second wave was a weird one that spat me out a little just after my pop-up. I was surprised to literally drop. I think the thing bounced or hollowed a little, or both and my board lost some contact with the water. Luckily I kept my balance and was able to come back up a little, but my bad habit of dropping too far was remembered.

Then I took a series of close-outs that were just fun.

Through the lull, I watched a seal harass the boys. It tickled the feet of the Architect, but the seal REALLY liked Gloved Guy.

My time was close to up, so I paddled away from the crowd and closer toward the boardwalk, and the ocean threw up this NICE wave, all mine. Nice push and a shoulder I could see forever. I was so surprised, I had a bottleneck of thoughts go through my head: You should really do some top turns... This has got to close out somewhere... I can't believe I'm still going... You still haven't done anything with this wave... Shut up, I'm enjoying the ride... No don't kick out there, see it opens up again... You know you're going to want to paddle back out after this... Totally awesome! I want another one of these... Don't paddle back out... I still can't believe I'm on this wave... This is obviously the best wave you'll have, so don't paddle back out... Resist, resist... This wave is so long I'm actually aware of having this inner dialogue... Okay, you're almost at the beach and you'd better kick out now because that shorebreak looks awful.

Seriously, that was one of the best waves I'd had in a long time. And all that really was going through my head.

I didn't paddle back out.

PS. I whistle when I surf. I don't know why and I usually don't consciously choose the tune. The song in my head this morning? "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'" by Nancy Sinatra.

Kitesurf/kiteboard/skateboard/boardboard/boredboard

I haven't surfed in so long (...going on three weeks? It was small, then I got sick, then there's rain...) that I've actually been looking for other crazy things I could theoretically hurt myself doing. I started researching Kitesurfing or Kiteboarding (but not enough to know which is the proper term).

I'm also keeping an eye out for a cheap (but not cheap-o) skateboard. (Thanks, Dave Rich!)

I realized I could probably fix the glass shatter on my Guy-O board this weekend. Or I could do my taxes.

Eh.