Pipes

Went down to surf with Little Miss N in Solana Beach. Coordinating schedules with the boy and the dog and the boy's friends with mine was a little hectic, but we did end up in the water. Chest to head high rollers and a lot of futile paddling for me, but the sun was out and I was warm. I ended up taking some good waves, but lately I've been noticing my bad habit flaring up again... dropping too low on the wave instead of staying high where the speed is. Because of Doc's big rocker, I always know when I've dropped too low because that board literally stops moving. I kept this in mind throughout the session and got better. My last wave was a backside left where TWICE I came to the top of the wave and turned back down to drop in again.

Yesterday I went out late and went out into the windblown chop because the sun was out and all the OP regulars were saying that it was a lot more fun than it looked. I only got two waves in my 50-minute session, but I was back on the Cooperfish and remembered why it's such a freakin' great board. Walking and turning from anywhere.

PS. Sunday whistling tune: "Stuck in the Middle with You"
Saturday whistling tune: "Que sera, sera"

Do I dare to trunk it?

Blue skies and sun. I forgot what a difference that makes in motivating me to surf. If it had been gray out, I would have taken one look at those rolling mushburgers and left. But it was sunny, so I chose to focus on the nice size of the waves instead. So much paddling today: paddling out through the frequent windswell and paddling more for those rolling mushburgers I chose to ignore in my decision to get wet. So much paddling I was HOT. Black hair, black wetsuit, blazing sun. I actually dunked myself into the reportedly bacteria-ridden water to keep from overheating.

This brings me to one of those media-"duh" rants. There's been a lot of hubbub lately about the high levels of bacteria in the water and on beach sand. We know this, we've always known this. We know better than to surf after a rain (but we do it anyway). The media, however, seeing Memorial Day come up seem to be broadcasting dire warnings, "Is it safe to go to the beach this holiday weekend? Find out on the 11 o'clock news." I know fear sells. I know the Powers That Be use fear to keep the public in line. I know all this to the point of saying, "Duh, Grace." But it still rankles me.

A couple of years ago, I noticed an increase in dire beach warnings the week before every three-day holiday weekend during the summer. Only that year, it was sharks. It was the year sharks seemed to be hanging out in San O and a couple tiger sharks were hanging out at Sunset. Memorial Day: weeklong feature in the local media on the sharks. July 4: same. Labor Day: three in a row makes it not a coincidence.

This year, there don't seem to be shark sightings yet, but that's probably because the water is too polluted.

What I do instead of surfing

On my birthday, I looked for surf, didn't find anything I wanted for my birthday, and came home to construct this make-shift trellis for my snow pea plants.

This is my first year trying to grow things. It's been a really cathartic process so far. I have a bunch of dill near my windowsill that always lean toward the light. When I pass by them, I always give the pot a turn so they're leaning the wrong direction and they have to lean back the other way.

Screwing with the dill... soooo cathartic.

Birthday Surf

It's the eve of my birthday and I'm trying to figure out where to go surf tomorrow. Of course, since it's my birthday, the lunar gods have conspired to make the tide low on my normal dawn-ish patrol. I'm going to take the morning from work and find me some nice mid-morning waves. I need break suggestions for a peaky west windswell. Weirdly enough, I have a feeling my usual beach breaks at Venice and Santa Monica might actually work with this when the tide starts coming back up. Maybe a drive to Huntington?

Thank goodness for small waves

I was hoping it would be like yesterday with some shoulder-high stuff and nice shape. I surfed so much yesterday that I was stiff all day. I would sit in my chair and when I had to get up, my body would be stuck in an L-position and I could only straighten with an old-man-groan. This can't be good for the body... going from eating bacon and reading the paper every morning to running a marathon the next day.

I was hoping today it would be just as fun as yesterday, but it wasn't. And in the end, I was relieved. It was a nice chance for my body to recover from the past few days of marathon-running.

PS. Whisting tune, appropriately: "What a Difference a Day Makes"

The Wipeout School of Surfing

Since Mother Nature has offered up flat to small waves for a while, I've been out of practice and had a niggling fear that I wouldn't be able to surf once a swell came through. Same worries that others have been having about being out of shape. My worry went a little further. I used to take steep drops on shoulder-high close-out waves FOR FUN. But in anticipation of this weekend's swell, I found myself afraid that I'd lost my nerve.

("That's because you have something to live for now!" said Little Miss N, referring to the boy.)

With less than an hour to surf, I paddled through a set of chest-high waves on Saturday morning. After I had a heart attack from exertion, I sat on my board and looked toward shore to get my bearings. I'd drifted almost two hundred yards north while paddling. It was mainly close-outs, but the water was glassy I waited for something with a little shoulder. I was testing my nerve. A slightly make-able wave popped up toward me and I took it. Speedy rail grab down the face with the wave cresting in front of me, so I made the split second decision that I probably would enjoy turning back to shore instead of trying to punch through the wave. I was thrilled, though, to make the first fast wave that came my way. The second wave was similar, but I had time to punch through. The third wave was probably my favorite... yet another left (south swells. oy.) and I popped up to my feet, the wave spit me out and the front of my board slammed on the flats. I was amazed that I managed to pull the nose out of the water by stepping back on the tail and I rode the rest of the wave to shore!

Sunday, the wind was already on it, but the shape was better and I had a GREAT time. Some really nice rides. But the best wave of the day was one I shouldn't have taken. It wasn't huge -- maybe chest-shoulder high -- but it jacked up and I decided to keep paddling. I knew it was a bad decision immediately and I ended up in a glorious freefall with my board. I whooped after I came up for air and looked for my board. That ol' black magic, that adrenaline rush, was back, baby!

There's nothing quite like coming out unscathed from a good wipe-out to get your nerve back.

PS. Whistling tune: "Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah"

'Nuff sed

Three waves. Whistling tune today: "If I Only Had a Brain" from The Wizard of Oz

The ol' coffee klatch

I've often wondered at how important this group of people is to me even when I don't know some of their names, their last names, what they do when they're not in the water, etc. When I visited the Wall almost every day, even if there was nothing to surf, I'd hang around and listen and chat and I found out little things about their lives while clutching a cup of coffee. I knew who was in the water by what cars were in the parking lot and I'd be happy to see the red truck and Honda hatchback or the Trooper and Toyota two-door or the blue truck (now Element) and VW van.

This weekend, the ol' coffee klatch was back on the wall. Some were missing, but most were there, waiting for the tide to come up. The waves were less than spectacular, but because of the long drought, once one person made the reluctant move to the wetsuit, everybody else followed. We didn't charge in all at once in one coordinated water-show, but in singles and pairs. But it seemed that in one moment, the ocean went from being empty to being full. It was nice to be with this family of familiar strangers again.

PS. Whistling tune Saturday: "Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat" from Guys and Dolls.

No whistling tune on Sunday; we found out one of the girls used to be a wedding singer, so she entertained us with tunes from various nuptials as we waited through the lulls.

Rx: Surf before Work

Surfed *l **r*o (*s in homage to Whiff) this morning at the early morning harranguing of Mr. I'm Moving Back Maybe who took a long-cut from NorCal to Mammoth through L.A. I have to say, for all my grumbling, I really enjoyed my session. Nothing particularly stellar wave-wise, but it was nice to have surfed before work. I kinda forgot how good it feels to loll about in the ocean with some dolphins before trudging off to the factory.

I was referred to a great doctor recently and after five days on his regimen of anti-biotics, Prilosec, and nasal saline washes, I have been feeling much better. I don't have as many old man coughing jags in the middle of the day. I sleep through the entire night, and the congestion that came on when I was surfing disappeared onshore without the help of Sudafed. I actually have new hope that I might get back to my old "cavalier about my health" self.

PS. Whistling tune today: Second theme of Scott Joplin's "The Entertainer"

Note to self...

Take wetsuit and booties *out* of the car if it looks like no surf for two weeks. Whew! What a smell! No point in keeping them in there "just in case" tomorrow looks better.

PS. Use detergent next time you rinse out the suit and booties.

The Confluence of Lees

A near spontaneous gathering of family members happened on Saturday. My middle brother had planned on flying in this weekend from Houston this weekend for a wedding. My youngest brother informed me two weeks ago he'd be flying in from Boston for an interview at USC. Then this week my mother called from Phoenix to tell me my father had gone crazy. He'd missed out on purchasing a Buddha's Hand Citron Tree for his garden and he'd spent the week searching the web for a nursery that had one. He found one in San Diego, so they'd be driving down there and then spending the night with me before driving back to Phoenix this weekend. It was a Confluence of Lees.

After I drove my doctor brother to USC for his interview at 8am, I was able to get to the home break as a second shifter on Saturday. Saw Sister Surf and barely recognized her, it's been so long! My day started out slow in the water, because it seems I'm still chasing unicorns, but it was sunny and people were happy and chatty so I was fine for the first half hour. Then I started getting a little antsy with my inability to catch a higher percentage of the waves I was a paddling for, so I moved off a little from the pack and stewed in my own frustration... which was stewing in a sea of what looked like unstirred miso soup, by the way. The lull let me look around and I saw brown flurries of something floating in the water. (Mental note: bathe in peroxide when you get home.)

Eventually, the tide started dropping and I started getting a higher wave to paddle ratio. Wave after wave was totally fun, but I was too out of shape for the ocean to decide to get good during the second hour of my session. My best wave of the day was one where I went left for a while, was disappointed when I saw it start to close out ahead of me, but glanced back to see a a nice right shoulder behind me so I cranked Doc around and turned the left into a right!

PS. Whistling tune: "Promenade" theme from Mussorgsky's "Pictures at an Exhibition"

Chasing unicorns...

...Mythical beasts. Lots of paddling for waves that weren't there. It was mostly me, though, cuz Grizzly Adams (aka Sensei J) and Handlebars had some fine waves with Guitar John. I had a couple snappy lefts, but mostly I was chasing unicorns.

PS. Whistling tune: "Kyrie Eleison" (Mr. Mister, not the Gregorian chant)

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.