surfing ever dumbening day 1: buffeted in bolinas. rainy and cold. completely unaware of what to expect. riding on a 9' board, but a rather tippy one. not even an attempt at standing. couldn't even get the damn thing to plane out. but i learned. i learned that i needed to learn. i learned to keep my legs and chest elevated. i learned to watch. afterwards we ate lunch and the sun started to break through. we drove up onto the bluffs. we had a little smoke—something i very rarely participate in these days, but i figured "when in rome." there was an amazing white snag of a tree, completely embraced, surrounded by a wonderful steel sculpture that followed enhanced altered its form. talk about site-specific. and all the while i kept thinking, what a crazy sport. movement in all three planes: roll pitch yaw. the mountains move here. and we all sit in our black suits, sea birds waiting. day 2: three weeks later, linda mar in pacifica. rainy cold. but this is day two, as there can always only be one day one. bigger board, rental, foam top. the lincoln continental of the waterways. i just steer the thing in the vague vicinity of something breaking and away we go. playing around on the inside—yes, knowing the lingo doesn't make you any better, but not knowing the lingo makes the green shine even brighter—i actually caught and stood up on some whitewater. my friend saw it; i'm official now. by the way, up to this point, i'm wearing a roxy suit, hoping that no one notices. day 3: day three got pushed back. two days after day two, we were down in santa cruz, but the conditions weren't so great. instead of getting in the water, we drove up highway 1 and they gave me the surf tour. pleasure point, steamer lane, cowell's, and on up the coast, talking the talk, scene assessment. watching the raptors, flying on their own windy waves. and then we did what any good citizen would do: when the condition suck, spend money. my pushy, loving friend talked me into buying a wetsuit. the inevitable simply is. so then day three didn't happen until the next weekend. back down to santa cruz. sunny, warm. after day one and two i didn't know there was such a thing as sun and surf at the same time. fresh off my little day 2 victory, i was feeling confident. silly boy. it was nothing but paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle (rather than cut and paste the word 'paddle', i'm typing it, because it reminds me there is no cut and paste on the water, ever), paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle. the current kept pushing south; our destination was north. day three passed, in many ways, like day one with nary an attempt at catching a wave or standing. and too, like day one, lots of learning. again, there can never be another day one, and that's good, and that's sad if you tend nostalgic. my new wetsuit made all the difference: i was warm. so everything else didn't matter. sore, tired, warm, happy. day 4: after a some wine, a mountain of barbecue, and a night of rest at the surf hut in capitola (a total classic: one bedroom place that sleeps eight, just blocks from the beach, with mottled brown carpet and an ass-ton of boards, little else), we charged it again. the current was more forgiving, and i had a good surf partner from our group who was closer to my ability. after getting in and paddling out (avoiding the short-board locals and their surly attitudes at "the hook") there i was back in the line up. one quick swing and a miss, and then bam, got right up on what was almost a real wave. i wasn't tearing up the pocket, but i was right there, just an eye-blink after it broke. almost a real wave. day 5: back up to pacifica. the team thinned to two. i didn't even really care what the conditions were like. i just wanted to string together three days in a row, days three, four, and five. so there we were in the closed out sets of low tide, paddling, trying, tossing, laughing, waiting. all of this taking place just a few miles and 24 hours away from mavericks going off for 2006. felt nice. then we drove up to ocean beach in san francisco to watch the big boys play in the double overheads. impressive. and the hawks and falcons were out in full force, making me smile deep within. day 6: pacifica. gorgeous sunny warm, seventy-five degrees. yes, february 9th, oh yes. a couple quick back and forth phone calls get us up and out of our respective offices shortly before 3pm, almost a full day to ease the microscopic guilt. more paddling. it doesn't matter though, because just getting in the water is where it all begins. and more talking, and learing, and watching, and waking up parts of the brain and body that need to learn what they deep down already know. the day ended on a stoke, standing and riding yet another "almost a real wave." getting closer to the ever-moving target. and that was just a few hours ago. day six capped off what would appear to be signs of being bitten: a run of four days in the span of six. i don't know where this ride ends, but i know where it started. 060209 ... crOwl totally enjoyed this, ever paddling. talking, learning, and watching... ever progressive. 060210 ... ever dumbening day 7: sunset in santa cruz. the night before, i went to see my friend of 20 years perform a solo concert at uc santa cruz. we all went out for drinks later: new friends, old friends, worlds colliding. the next morning we strolled to the water to find a contest going off at pleasure point's first peak. conditions were great, so there was some fun stuff to watch. we went down the coast to meet dyana who had just finished a retreat with her business buddies. after knocking around in aptos and watching the closeout sets from the deck of cowboy bill's spacious beach house, we checked one other break and decided to head back up to santa cruz. it was late afternoon before we finally paddled out. it was good timing, though. the contest ended, so things could spread out a bit on the water. i was paddling out in front of jack's (oneill, that is, the very one) just tooling around having a relaxing day in the water. it was pretty crowded still, so i was just taking scraps. the sky was starting to cloud up way in the upper atmosphere. from where i was floating, the sun was going down right behind pleasure point, a kind of pink halo lit the point. from the way the clouds were hanging it seemed like that would be it, but the sun snuck down behind and unleashed. almost exactly a year ago, i was in new york checking out art; one of the most amazing things i saw was a video installation by bill viola entitled 'five angels of the millenium'. as the end of day seven drew near, the sun's sneaking down past pleasure point and casting light back up to the high clouds put me squarely in the middle of my own giant bill viola piece. imagine a massive sheet of pastry, dimpled with fingers, flung high above to stick to the ceiling of sky. imagine the angles creating an explosive neon fuchsia. imagine this uncanny light bouncing off the million moving water facets. and then imagine sitting on a surfboard right where the sea and sky meet: the center of the glowing show. day 8: another crowdless, cloudless monday. high tide, so we put in next to jack's and paddled like the lemmings we are. i was proud when i finally made it out to the channel just off first peak. i got to sit out where the big kids play and watch the show. i almost caught a wave that it was probably better i didn't; and i learned that that water is humming by under me, because as i was planing out and grabbing the rails to pop up, the water ripped my hands right off, planting me firmly back on my board for a squirrelly ride that brought me way back inside. take a few on the head, paddle paddle paddle, take a few on the head, paddle paddle paddle. whew, finally back outside. hell of a workout. do that a few more times and then call it a day. don't forget to save some strength for a well-timed, high-tide paddle in. oy. always something to take away, every time. 060216 ... ever dumbening interlude. last night i made my first surfing-inspired sculpture, a piece entitled 'heavy left'. it's only about a foot wide, by a few inches high and deep, but it weighs about forty pounds. seven heavy chunks of steel, each a simple 90 degree angle, welded into a breaking wave with narrow strips of thin-gauge steel wisping off the lip (from the offshore winds, of course). 060216 ... Ouroboros paddle paddle beautiful paddle thank you for your words paddle paddle paddle read well over curry paddle 060217 ... unhinged my brother only amazes me even more when i see surf footage of the north shore and i think that he'll be doing that someday soon. he has a surfer's body now. he lost 100 lbs surfing and eating raw fish guts and rice cause it's super cheap there. my family calls it the island diet. he told my dad the other day he thinks he's going to be an islander for life. i want to go visit him out there again. besides that $800 for an entire week in hawaii is about as cheap as it gets considering the air fare alone is $600 from here. but there's just something about the island as much as i hate sunshine and warm weather; you can't be angry in an environment like that. it's a good place for my brother and his irish german short temper. not to mention his physical health cause he's in the best shape of his life and when he comes home he sounds more happy than i've ever heard him; but he also sounds older. i think the waves worked out a lot of things for him though. a lot of things guys i know that are ten years older than him haven't figured out yet. if i wasn't afraid of the water, i'd move out there and start surfing with him. living a surf bum existence in paradise with my brother is a thought that makes me smile. 060218 ... unhinged he talked to me on the phone not long after he tubed his first wave and he had that giddy excited tone in his voice i hadn't heard in a really long time. 'i tubed my first wave...i did it and it was so fucking amazing. i was so scared but i did it and it was so fucking cool. i mean after that i got of the water and had a cigarette and my hands were shaking but it was sooooo coooooool.' hearing him excited like a kid again made me smile too. surfing is zen for my brother. 060219 ... ever dumbening day 9: first crack at day nine was saturday in bolinas: cold cloudy rainy sans-swell. we had beers and played table-top, old-school video games instead—i cranked out a 90,000 in galaga, which ain't so bad considering the rust. sunday was looking good, but we were o.a.m., just like the brand, on a mission. it was time to start tracking down a board. lloyd and i spent several hours driving up and down the peninsula—half moon bay, pacifica, and back up to the city. we talked to lots of surf shop characters, and we laughed how there were no boards over eight feet in one shop, because that's all the ceiling would allow. we finally ended up at wise, the shop at the north end of ocean beach, where i had also gotten my suit. same guy that sold me the suit was there, so we started chatting about what i had been up to since we last did business. based on my retellings, he surmised that i was digging things. he said, i think i've got just the board for you. consignment board, only been used two days, owned by a guy who had too many in the quiver. eight foot board, so a bit shorter than i was thinking about, and kind of performance-driven, and not cheap. but i wanted something i could grow into. he said he had the same board, just six inches shorter. and the thing that made me know it was the one, was the name of the guy who shaped it: bill stewart. one of my favorite jazz drummers, who i first saw when he was about nineteen, has that very same name. so we ran across town to pull a thick fistfull of cash out of the money box, and sco was mine. [sco of course being the name, as john scofield and bill stewart have played together off and on for many years, and because sco rips the twang-bluesy electric jazz waves as i intend to rip the aquatic ones.] so then day nine arrives, with me riding my new stick. we actually paddled out at ocean beach. it just wasn't happening though. wave size was nice, but they just weren't breaking—jack up then back right down. nothin' doin'. but paddling around on my new ride was all i needed. day 10: day fucking ten!! i'm not sure why we're so decimally obsessed, but here we are. it also happens to be my first solo day, as dy is already in hawaii, and lloyd is just about to leave to meet her there. so i go back to ocean beach, two days later, because the conditions looked similar to monday, but with breaking waves. i paddle out, paddle around, get thrashed, paddle out of a rip trying to take me back to china, get thrashed, paddle in, call it a day. i swing by bakesale betty's to score one of her amazing chicken pot pies—take and bake, single serve—to celebrate. day 11: thursday in pacifica. warm and sunny again. i paddle out around five o'clock into a good sized crowd. mucked around a bit, and then, as the sun dips behind the point, everyone shifts north a bit, either to stay in the sun, or because they thought the peak was shifting. either way, that left me and about three others to fend for ourselves. that's when it got fun, fast. we were catching nice little scrappy ones, one after the other. oh yeah. i can't wait to see what a day like this feels like when it's magnified to big-boy size. afterwards at the burrito shop, i almost felt like i was getting the localism stinkeye from some wanker, but who knows? maybe i've just read too much about slashed tires and waxed windows and was getting paranoid. it was strange though. i don't have enough talent to have dropped in on a wave of his, and his girlfriend wasn't my type, so uh, yeah, fuck off buddy. day 12: friday, return to the scene of the crime. three days in a row and four of the last five, feels right, and we're just now getting to the weekend. waking up at six for work _does_ have its perks. paddled out on the south end, paddled north around the outside of the big flock of seagulls, so to speak, and watched the show. this one guy with a grey wetsuit and a longboard was gobbling up waves left and right and hot-dogging it. i think there was a little jawing going on, but i wasn't quite close enough to get the details. the whole thing cracks me up, though. it's great to pull out my anthropology degree and get my participant-observation on. are you guys regulars, or seagulls, my high school principal once asked us, after vlad and the banks twins hucked a well-preserved tahoe iceball through the may california air and mr. besse's window. i didn't know what he meant then, but maybe he was a surfer; it would make sense. i paddled back around the group, again in search of crumbs. this time, though, it was closey-outy, so i made my fortune pearl diving, right over the nose every time. oh well, it seems that's the nature of the nature. so we wait and try and scratch and scrap and ride, sometimes we ride. 060224 ... ever :sort of: patiently waiting just a little bookkeeping. too much fucking rain and not enough surf. teach a man about pussy, then deny him that treasure. no surf. day 13: last day of run. montara. high tide thick wall. pound. pound. clean water. fish-rider quick efficient fun to watch. day 14: w/lloyd at p.p. "line up the tree and the chimney on the grey house—that's the spot." lloyd dings new board on magic spike. day 15: p.p. with dy, ll, and michele. crooowwded. "that's because you were sitting out in no-wave land." and "that guy with the hat was a fucking wave hog." hehe. day 16: the next day. lindy. windy. WINDY. W.I.N.D.Y. close-out pound. rip city. ow, that's my fin smashing into me, time to get out. and then the rains came. and they did not stop for a long time. and then the waves went away. and maybe day 17 will never come. 060424 ... ever dumbening interlude ii, or the time between day the 16th and day the 17th. [a bit of the brandenburg concertos should suffice. structure, rhythm, cycles, ebbs and flows.] rain and rain and art and rain and work and art and oh what's this a summer fling begins and work and art and no swell and work and no swell and then swell but busy with art and work and summer fling and so then it would be quite some time before our intrepid explorer would stand again on the curling watery arms of the wind. end interlude. days 17 through 24: surfboard smorgasbord day 17: the first day in quite some time with the aforementioned rain and art and skunked attempts. needless to say i was out of shape. fast, steep, short-period windswell at lindonesia. right as i pulled into the packed (summer sun to blame) parking lot, ll dy and single d are just getting out of their suits. oh, joy, i get to have all my surf teachers sit on the beach and critique my first day back after a long spell—and in these conditions. from the beach i saw lots of riding going on; from the pearl-diving pitch of my board i saw lots of water rapidly approaching and entering my sinueses. caught maybe one or two. took a break with the three. at least single d complimented my fearlessness (after having seen me pearl, i.e. i was going for it). we all reckoned it was from my years of hucking it off the cornice at kirkwood. got back in, those guys left, got worked more, exhaustion, got out, ahhhh. nothing like breaking a dry spell. day 18: back to bopoo (my newly coined name, documented here, a sarcastic honoriffic for bolinas, referencing teahupoo). i said several times that day that i wish day 17 and 18 could've been switched. it was freakin malibu out there, party waves galore. it's only dropping in after the sixth gets on. hey, get off _our_ wave. mellow slow rollin' fun. dy and i just knocking down the scrappers. there was this amazingly cool, small personal aircraft buzzing around overhead. very agile and responsive. small wings in front, larger in rear. asked danny about it later, kit he said, maybe 50 grand. i want one! i was so exhausted from the day before that i was just happy to cruise around and take whatever. ll shows up and we go over to the groin. lots of current from the bay. i paddled out for about 10 minutes, then right back in to just watch ll and dy. besides i had to get back to the city to grab k. we were going to try to go see juana molina at bimbo's, but we were both exhausted and running behind. instead we went to a party back in her neighborhood. i would like to support a certain stereotype by saying that gay men have some righteous gardens. this party was unreal. small, non-descript house from the front, in the fruitvale district—hardly a place where one would find shangri-la. i can't even figure out how this backyard fit into this backyard; it just kept going. fireplaces and altars and giant ganeshas and fountains and palm trees and on. to top it all off, i believe this was the first time in my life that i have surfed and gotten laid in the same day ... california livin, baby. day 19: boiling the cruz. third day back from the drought. i think it was a week or so after the bo. gorgeous day. typical sc scene, some tour kid was getting lots of facetime from the pro-ho's and fanboys. whatever, dude, charge the knee-high garbage with la raza and show us how it's done. first we paddle out in front of jack's, but there were long lulls and too many people for the scraps that were there. though i did have to leave behind a cutie with the nice smile. meh, time for waves my friend. we make our way over to second peak, and yes, my friends, it was time yet again for ll's chimney and tree line up special. i finally know what he's talking about now. there's a little boils that forms and knocks and extra foot into whatever's coming through. it always breaks in the same spot. sweet. at one point it was just the four of us ruling this miniature wave machine. ride after ride. churn em out. ll was hoping for a double down, but i had to get back to the bay, so a burrito and some highway 17 was all i could get into. day 20: south at o.b. south. friday evening, pull into sloat to find dy itching. i changed quickly. warm, long period, gentle breeze, south swell (so this is what a south swell is, summertime!): time for my first day without booties (hard to go back to wearing protection, knowhuttamean?). hundreds of jellies floating about, beautiful creatures. o.b. is rarely the place for me, but this was one day i could handle. i discovered that i like going left. nice long left down the line, was eyeballing the little section about to closeout but thought better of it. that one felt really nice. plenty of rides that day, but that one is etched for now. left dy at the cars to track down beers so we could enjoy the warmth and the setting sun, a rare, pre-indian summer treat 'round here. when i get back she's already drinking down a cold one with j & j (one of whom was the little hottie from many years ago when dy and i went to her christmas party, damn). but my pretzels and bear republic red rocket were a welcome addition. day 21: o.b. take 2. beach day! let's may a day of it. shade tents, food, beers, dy's friend's k (and her shaved head, looked good) and m, and of course dy and double l. oh but what different conditions there were only a day ago. what happened to the nice long period stuff. the paddle out took some time, finding the rip was the only way. pretty tired from the day before anyway. basically got skunked. didn't really matter, though, got in and out several times and then just ate and drank the day away. it was eye opening to see what dy came across: a guy with no wax, no leash, first day ever surfing. hello! mcfly! at o.b. no less. she kindly regulated and he walked away with a bit of knowledge, his one tail between his legs, and his other tail dragging along beside him in the sand (hoping to soon see a leash and some wax!). day 22: day 3 at o.b. another beach day, 24 later. this time my k came along. dy's sis and bro-in-law and niece and nephew were a fun addition, too. again finding the rip was essential to getting out. but o.b. has these bizarre rips that zig-zag—this way paddle paddle paddle, now this way paddle paddle paddle. the river of love at o.b. is a fickle queen to be sure. i got a few rides, which was more than i could say for similar conditions from the day before. ll was looking good, though. i was just as happy to sit on the beach and drink margs. later we all went back to m's for jambalaya. nice little three-day run at o.b. don't imagine i'll be logging too much more time there once the north pacific starts throwing its liquid lightning bolts at the city; too big for little kook jimmy. day 23 and 24: back to back solo jaunts at bobo (though i did bump into ll and dy on my way out on day two). tons of rides. mellow fun. i stayed a little farther up the shore from the crowd and found plenty of my own goodness. highlight was my longest ride so far. nice outside one that i was able to pump until the inside reform and took it to the beach. end on a stoke! temporary postlude: now my girl is gone, back in the mitten state, the swell went away, and i allowed a couple shithead vendors at work to stir me to an anger that i haven't felt maybe since china. ah, but the buoys say another south swell is on the way. always good to be back in the water. and hey, maybe i'll drag my stick along when i head up the coast next week. 060822 ... ever dumbening the mind. the mind. oh the mind. day 25, 26, 27: ll's vacation. day 25: i get out of work early on a friday, as an alleged south swell is in the works. i had already tried the day before to head up to bo, only to spend money in the coast cafe. unfortunately, i knock around and don't get down to sc until five or so. it was locals night. nobody was rude, but everyone seemed to know each other and i was not an each other. the lulls between the smooth, small south-swell sets were plenty long enough for all the people who had just caught waves to paddle all the way back out, often from quite long mellow log rides, and catch the next set. so i was getting nothing. nothing. it was a combination of wrong board, lack of paddle strength, lack of knowledge, and not knowing/being known by the crew. but really it was mind. had there been no one else in the water, i certainly would've been gobbling those pulses right up. proof: i had basically already given up on the session and was getting ready to paddle back in, skunked. as always though, as soon as i turn my back on the ocean the set rolls through. rather than getting run over by a wave or human i turn back around to scratch for the outside. so here i am again sitting outside. it's getting dark and ll hasn't made it out yet. the crowd is slightly thinning due to fading light. a wave swings my way, i turn, and shoot. as i'm paddling, i hear a voice (a voice i assume to be one of the guys who had seen me get nothing all sesh, and who was being playfully funny/encouraging) paddling out right past me say: you've got to paddle like you want it. plane out, pop up, ride. i paddle back out and see ll ride past me. once he makes it back outside, i ask him if that was him making that comment, sure enough. crazy timing. i reckon i probably would've gotten that wave anyway, but the mental ass kick sure didn't hurt. though watching my mind get in the way of my life was annoying, i wasn't having a bad time out there. it was warm, people were chill, and the dolphins were mere feet away. there was a family of three less than ten yards away. the two adults were clearly teaching the much smaller one how to breach and dive. it was such a clear instance of intelligence and directed learning. awe. sushi at the 'zilla. chattin' up the cutie about to go walkabout. then ruling the felt at the local bar. then across the street to the over the hill gang bar, only to be sternly warned by the signage not to touch the antique roulette table and sternly warned by the bar matron not to take our beers out back and sternly warned by the think cigarette smoke hanging illegally in the air not to, well, do anything we shouldn't. you know. day 26: the dawn patrol sesh gets ruled out by default, the night before, with sake contests and beer. instead we wait for dy to arrive. check out a condo those guys were looking at, only a bajillion dollars, sweet. ran a few other errands, then charge it. ll's theory that the weekend brings out more kooks, and thus a better chance to catch waves (rather than fighting with the seasoned locals, that is) proves true. a combination of a foggy brain from the previous night's consumerism and from a lot on my mental plate left the details of the flow of the session rather blurred. sitting out there running my hand along my rail i find that at some point i've hit either a board or a rock or something. my first ding of my own creation. yea. but there were scrappy rides to be had. split a peak with ll, going left, at the tree/chimney spot. met up with ll's boss and coworker for a little beer tour. fell in love with our server at one place, but that's nothing new. though for once i think she was clearly digging my bones as well. there was something in the way she put her finger on my back to ask me a question, and the triple take as we left. yum. afterwards we decided to ride the big dipper, the great old wooden coaster at the boardwalk. i hadn't been to the boardwalk in about 20 years. good stuff. the neighborhood around there is depressing, though. an excess of sodium-light glow, cement, chain-link, and the buzz that accompanies the glow. workers. m and p arrive in the middle of the night. day 27: with sco damaged, i ride ll's blue for the day. more of same, crowded but rideable. and with p out there, i'm finally more experienced than someone in our group. woohoo, i'm practically a pro. not. day 28 (my vacation, ha): driving down u.s. 101, the oregon coast. again mind is planted across my path. where and if to surf. i feel an obligation to get in: brought the board, bought the book. check many places. seaside cove looks crossed up, messy, lots of work. looking way out to seaside point i see some serious rippers; i stay away knowing that even if i did have the skills, my license plate would get me nothing but trouble. beautiful the whole way. down to oswald west: packed and for what. nice walk down to the water, though. chat with a friendly fellow in the lot. spend the night in lincoln city, cold damp camping. mind mind mind. feeling out of place, wanting knowledge of my own, of others, wanting my crew. i finally paddle out at beverly beach. more endless beach break. i see a nice peak. i cannot for the life of me find a rip. the walls are long, the sets are constant, the period it short, and there's some serious juice in the water. locally generated windswell, that usually gets groomed by the time it makes it down the coast to central cal, is one angry bitch. two spongers watch as i continue not to get outside (i'm wishing _i_ had a sponge, and some fucking fins; not sure why they weren't out dropping in on the tasty peaks). somewhat of a lull, paddle paddle paddle paddle. almost there, yeah, i got it, no i don't, over the falls, did i mention the push these fucking things have, and way back inside again. fuck. lather rinse repeat. cold feet and cold feet. windy. embarrassed. oh well, i tried. summary of oregon surf: lots of it, windy, cold, lots of unridden waves. 060918 ... ever dumbening day 32: what, you protest? what happened to days 29, 30, and 31 you say? who's is charge here? okay, okay. so those three days were a frustrating crappy blur. all three at o.b. all three solo. all three pretty much getting skunked. sore, tired, mentally and physically out of shape. tossed, knocked around, skunked. sure, i stood up on a few junky reforms on the inside, but basically nothing. conditions were not great on any of the days, but people were getting theirs, not including me. the one interesting thing was my first foggy-day session (after the true dawn-patrol check of pacifica, which by the way was crappy and already crowded before there was even enough light to see that it was crowded, fuck that place). it's strange not to know what's really coming. the bottom line, though, of these days was crappy mind crappy body crappy sesh. so then today. lots of shitty days in a row at work and home (and there's more to come until at least january 2nd), but i've been sniffing good surf in the air. i was not to be denied today, day 32. kept checking the updates on the phone and online. good at 9, still good at noon, but yesterday was the same until that damn afternoon wind killed it. called ll, he was no go. called dy, she was no go. called the afternoon report, jimmy's goin'!! raced home, after a quick stop on the way for some mojo bars at rei. load up. go. actually, before i left, i threw in the contacts and slapped on the sunscreen. these steps _never_ happen before checking the surf. needless to say, i was confident and committed. didn't matter if i got to the beach and there was barbed wire and mines in the water—fuckin' normandy, whatever i'm paddling out. turning left onto the great highway, what should i see but my favorite symbol of all is well in jamesland: a raptor perched. watching, knowing. pull into the lot at sloat, scored a spot right up front. sweet. stoke was in the air. the guy who pulled in right when i did was suited up at heading out in about five minutes. people were out there ripping (with enough kooks out there so that i could say, fuck that, i would've made that shit—foreshadow!). paddle out relatively unscathed. found a little rip to aid the journey, and a little lull in the sets helped. the current was moving, but what else is new at o.b.? by the end of the sesh i was a half mile up the beach. but so then the mood and the waves lined up again, and it was on. took a couple swings at a few, but missed. over the falls once, but right back out. then, bam. head high plus, make the drop, fast down the face. oh yeah. still don't have the big carving bottom turn dialed in, but i was making my way down the line. paddle right back out, over the falls again. then there was a long lull, and i thought maybe we were done. current still pulling strong north. wait. move around. wait. paddle around. current pulling. wait. here come a few. patience. be more selective. wait. wait. wait. paddle paddle paddle. another head high, steep fast make the drop. gave myself a little hoot after riding it way back inside on the reform. stoked for sure. a few little scrappers here and there. then i just couldn't make it back out. where's that damn rip? serious push in the small stuff inside. took one more attempt at getting outside; found a rip; almost there; shit, here comes the set: denied. nevermind, the damage was done: definitely the two best drops i've made, and nice long rides. ah. just finishing up getting things packed back into the car as the sun sets. i thought, all those people who just come out for the sunset should do a little surfing first. makes it that much sweeter. and to top it all off, two little scraps of green flash, my first ever. how cool. 061019 ... ever dumbening day 33: lucky larry bird 33. hmm, maybe not. i was thinking today would be similar to yesterday; i thought incorrectly. looked about the same when i pulled up. things just weren't breaking on the outer bar at o.b. where i was sitting. lull city. mushy when they did come through. the ones breaking farther in were just big closeouts anyway. i found this out the hard way by cheating in a bit when one snuck up and closed out on my head. always the same. always different. 061020 ... ever dumbening day 34: oaria raio o.b. o.b. o.b. lots of gorgeous days in a row around here. had dinner with ll and dy and some of ll's cute coworkers last night. thoughts of j got me through another annoying day of work. short 20 kegs, absurdity. why i even care is so beyond me. so the day is dragging, but i'm ripping the 10-key like my fingers got a little satan in 'em, closing purchase orders with wreckless precision. out at four, traffic, traffic, traffic. dy's got the flu, so ll is doing some final nursing, but we've got charging to do. get to o.b., and i recommend going to the middle for a change, sloat looked pretty crowded. quick climb up the dunes while ll throws in his eyes, wheeee looks good. toss on the loaner wettie from gc since mine's somewhere on it's way to hawaii for repairs, and run across the great highway. i wish i still had the tough feet i did as a child, running the streets of st louis shoeless all summer. run to the water, leash on, get in. paddle paddle paddle, wait, paddle paddle paddle, duckdive (sort of), turtle, paddle, wait, paddle, paddle, mind focused on the outside, hanging pretty close to ll, keep fucking paddling dude, no stopping, paddle, paddle, little break aaaaaand outside. yeah. it's the little things when you suck. making it outside at o.b. is all i ever ask for. okay, so maybe i ask for a few sweet waves, but i'm not greedy. this is good, as i got shit today. waited very patiently as the sun dropped and the large dolphins played nearby. took a few shots, but nothing. then once the sun dropped i figured i needed to sneak inside a bit more. mistake, as always. caught inside, poundorama. not too bad really, but with the waning light i figure i might as well cut my losses and save some strength for tomorrow. it was too beautiful out the to even give a shit. getting a chance to at least fuck up the drop would've been nice though. sleep, and try again tomorrow. dawn patrol? we'll see. 061027 ... ever dumbening day 35: seven sessions in a row at o.b. if i didn't know better, if winter's huge gnar weren't on it's way, i might think i could actually surf this break. i'm not stupid, however, so i'm getting in my days there before the monster swell separates the men from the kooks. so ll ended up getting a version of whatever dy's got, so he was out for today. back to the solo sesh. it was hardly alone though. heads everywhere. good thing this beach is a few miles long. lots of room. lots of peaks. grab some wax at aqua. i love all the tasty scents they add to the waxes. today's was grape. yummy smelling sco. if you're going to be lying on top of anything for a few hours it might as well smell good. french milled soap for me, flavored wax for my stick. oh yeah. park at rivera again. this is an important thing to remember when surfing o.b., because when the current takes you several blocks—as it did yesterday, today, and most days—you have to remember how to get back. pulled out at noriega (the streets are alphabetized), so i did a little r-q-p-o-n drifitin' today. wasn't getting much at first, got tossed good on one. relaxing outside the dolphins were yet again in full force, and super close today, not ten feet away. 'sup y'all!! too, i love watching the california brown pelicans do their own little form of surfing: they glide just above the water and use the pressure wave of air formed in front of the water wave, following the curve of the break then skipping over to the next wave farther out. they come right down the line and angle past. then the current found me and i started my northward journey. when i got to noriega i saw lots of bodies and saw why. a rather consistent peak was firing and the sets were rolling through. i'm still not confident enough to sit in the middle of the pack, so i hung on the south shoulder (until the current kept pushing me into the pack). my first one was a late pop-up but it was still a nice ride and i really felt like i was engaging the rail a bit as i was going left. even got a nice little rotation on the kick out. then further into the pack, and i wasn't all that interested in using the remains of my paddle strength to move south. so fuck it i'm in the fray. caught a couple more on the shoulder, kinda kooky, but whatever. fun. decided to just cruise back in and save some strength for possible sessions tomorrow and monday. trying to make it to day 50 before the end of the year. 061028 ... unhinged i don't think he has much time to anymore what with work and school. he complains a lot about not getting enough time in the water. i can't wait til march to see my little brother stand up on a wave. he said i have to go out with him, but i can't swim worth a shit so that's not going to happen. i'm too afraid of the water for surfing. but i like to sit in awe watching all the dudes and dudettes cut waves like it's their job. 061107 ... ever dumbening days 36 through 45: some catching up to do. day 36 and 37: ageing ages. i figured these two days would be symbolic since i was 36 and soon to be 37. i thought the symbolism would be fortuitous, not ominous. all i learned was that i'm getting older and that i needed a good dose of feeling sorry for myself. day 36 started at the north end of o.b. watching fools in the thick fog and thick whitewater pound. i'll pass. started driving down the coast, but none of the normal spots were working. i was getting annoyed and hedged, but the started heading all the way down california_1 towards santa cruz. came over a hill, after looking at lots of crap, to see fast hollow peelers shining in the first spot to have some sun too. i later realized it was waddell creek. the conditions were a bit out of my league, but it was fun to watch the rippers rip. it's nice to sit on the shoulder and watch someone come right down the line at you and catch a little head-tucker barrel. gave the guy props when he paddled back out. there were definitely some folks killin' it. the next day, 37 (my soon to be age), was back at o.b. i caught a few nice bigs drops, missed a few too. long day, tired, so i'm paddling in, and as i step off my board in the shallows and bend to pick up my board, YOW. serious fucking tweak of the back. at least if i had injured it while actually surfing. it's like breaking your ankle getting off the plane returning from war. way to go soldier. it was a long painful, bitter four weeks, including the self-pity swamp of my 37th birthday (fucked back, dinner with parents since all my friends are married and have kids, shitty job, shitty roommate, oy), before i got back in the water. days 38 through 41: the return of the king. four days in a row that seemed to continue the pattern of one day on, one day off. mostly solo days, though dy joined for one and natelin, m/p, g/j (back together), and dy were all in the water together. good fun. literally dozens of dolphins. m: "whoa, james, i saw that big drop you made, sweet." she didn't see the huge wipeout i had had, but the guy who had front row seats for it said even in defeat i was stylin'. hehe. just good to get back in the water. day 42: christmas day at the marv. i used to love skiing on new year's day; surfing christmas morning had that same sort of feel. caught a bunch of fun ones at lindonesia, my first time there in a long time. kind of renewed my faith in that place. day 43: earned. seriously shitty day at work wednesday netted me friday off. was thinking i was flying solo, but ended up with another crew day. ll, ll's cousin and his cousin's friend, dy, single d, and leafy greens, all charging the small fun slop at o.b. serious current pulling the whole time. peaks always just out of reach. again, though, i had some witnesses on a couple nice drops. with my one year surfaversary in just a few days, it's nice to be able to see some progress, even though i still totally suck. day 44: pathetica vs terrifica. twice at poopoomar in one week -- what is this world coming to? knocking around in front of the boat docks because i was waiting for mh to join. but when she did, she was only out for 20 minutes. i thought she got hurt. later i found out that she "had seafood in the car." a fact that she would drunkly tell dy repeatedly later that night at dy's new year's eve party. again, several nice rides. probably my highest wave total. nice left early with a good drop and staying tight in the shoulder for a while. day 45: all ain't quiet, on new year's day. thrash city with ll and dy at ob. very deceiving. crossed up, churning, swirling, current pulling, shore poundy, wall after wall of whitewater with lots of mwah (sp.). only one of us made it outside, and it wasn't me. it was good to be denied, since i hadn't been in a while (oregon). beat down hard, but we paddled out, and it was new year's day. niceness. 070102 ... ever dumbening day 46: surfaversary!!! my one year surfaversary was the 7th. the locals were busy, so i called my old ski buddy d (a recent convert to the water himself) to see if he wanted to meet at pleasure point. after some wrangling and explaining of the significance of the day, it was team photobird paddling out in the cruz. d can be quite the scatterbrain, and he really has trouble with place names (at kirkwood, he always mistook "the wall" for "whole in the wall" which is half a mountain away), so i knew when i told him to meet at second peak he wouldn't be there. he did eventually make his way over. it was absurdly insanely crowded, because the surf had been mostly crap for the week, and conditions were good. it's always weird to see faces i recognize, because i don't surf in santa cruz that much. but there was mister three strokes that way and catch one, and the chick with the perfect red hair that never seems wet, and the stern but attractive woman who sits patiently on the should and always knows exactly which one is hers (and takes it). so i wasn't catching shit due to the crowd, which is too bad, because there was definitely some nice juice in the water. once the sun went down (another great glow on the water at pp), we moved over to jack's and played in the waist-high scrappers and caught a couple fun ones. dinner at an overpriced, new hawaiian joint downtown, talk of setting me up, and a tiny party wrapped things up. i'm just glad i marked the passing year with a paddle out. day 47: cooooold. the surf has continued to be crap, blown out crap. and now that it's finally getting good, it's butt cold. dawn patrol is so completely out of the question, so tides are an issue. poomar is out, close out that is. and ob has been a bit big and squirrely. so off to the bo we go. dy & ll, m & p, and me. did i mention cooooold? small typical bolinas. and when we got there it was super drained with the low, but paddle out we did. didn't catch more than two in the first hour. lots of searching around. but patience paid off, and the last hour and half plus the swell improved with the incoming tide. lots of fun thigh-high scrappers, a party-wave with ll, including a high five, a kooked party wave with dy, and some cold cold cold hands. i was the last one to paddle in. better than i expected, but nothing to scream about. day 48: oh o.b. fuck, this is one challenging break. it just looks so makeable and it's just so not. another crossed-up tricky paddle out, the inner sand bars all screwy dredgy poundy closeouty goodness. but i found a little slot and made it out, at the expense of losing dy till the end (on her b-day no less). right when i paddled out there was a nice five-wave set breaking just to either side of me; i thought, sweet, i made it to just the right spot. no such luck. 25 minutes later not a damn thing is coming through except monster wall closeout breaking much further in. i start chatting with one other guy about boards and ob and we're just waiting. finally another set comes through, but they are fucking huge, definitely 10 feet on the faces. i'm getting there but not quite yet. too, they were all strangely textured from the sideshores and god knows what else. really weird shape. so i'm trying to get into the right spot, moving in and out, and yup, get caught too far in, scratch scratch scratch ... ooooover the falls, hold down pound-o-rama. fuck. try to make it back out, another serious pound, and i knew that had to be the lesson for today. caution at ob is always a good plan. birthday lunch with dy at the lame chalet. cross the bridge to hang with the peralta clan, tons of grub, good people (except that everyone has kids now, sheesh). another day in the water. 070115 ... ever dumbening days 49 to 51: three at lindonesia i guess being here three straight sessions has officially lifted my ban on this joint. it's always going to be dirty, but at least it hasn't been raining tons, so the runoff has been minimal. and as far as crowds go, i just have to pick my times. granted, the three days were all weekdays due to vacation (my first ever surf vacation, haha). and too, i realize that the crowds at lindy are mellow and filled with kooks. so whatever. day 49 and 50 were quite similar in that i couldn't dial it in for the first hour, and then a combination of swell/tide change and moving inside a bit to find the right spot resulted in a handful of fun ones. towards the end of day 50 i was hanging out near this guy and girl surfing together who were friendly. we chatted a bit and traded knowing smiles after good rides or cleanup set poundings. good stuff. tons of california brown pelicans out, all splashing their monstrous wings in the water. day 51 was probably one of my most productive days ever. this despite having a total wave-hog, snake, dickhead at the same peak. dude, this is lindo, chill. and it was finally sunny and warm. didn't even use half of the warm water i'd brought along. ahhh. day 52: glassy, clean, ob. dy just got oral surgery, so she's out for three weeks, and ll is working. you guys suck. it's fucking firing out here. report sounded bigger than it was, so i made the drive skeptical of the likelihood of my paddling out. but upon arrival it was just too pretty. and the paddle out was definitely kind, especially for ob. light offshores blowing spray out the back—sssshhhhh. made a couple big drops, missed more than i should've, but i was feeling focused. my stoke level was through the roof (especially considering all the bullshit i'm swimming in right now). just laughing and talking to myself. pod of about six dolphins rolls by super close. first wave i caught was one of those weird ones that never break. sweet. how the fuck am i riding this??? finally lost a contact lense (but at least i had just made the drop on a nice one); pretty good to make it 50-plus days before losing one. tried to surf one-eye (and even tried to put the one back in, no luck). paddled back in, tried to call ll again. put in another eye and paddled back out. did i mention my stoke level? i was too cold and tired though, so the second paddle out netted little. but what a great day. day 53: you _think_ you know. ob take 2. looking the same as yesterday, but not really. bigger ('sup dave, you said smaller). not really feeling it on the check, maybe due to being spent from the day before. kind of willed myself into the paddle out, being patient ahead of time knowing i might not have the juice. inside shore pound was crazy, and then between that and the outside was this foamy pitching peaky mess. ob can give the feel that you're miles and miles from land. the lighting was surreal, kind of dusty sepia blue. little pale rectangles of light were popping around on the semi-stormy looking darkness. took a crack at a couple, backed off a couple, almost made one (not sure what i did wrong). paddled back out... oh shit cleanup set. five waves, pound pound pound. pushed way inside. tried paddling back out, but just didn't have it in me. discretion. right? turned around to go in, but was more afraid of snapping my neck in the fucked up shore pound. made it in unscathed. proud of myself for paddling out. cultivation of willpower is an important thing (for anyone, and especially for me). 070128 ... ever dumbening day 54: a quickie. third in a row at ob. i seem to be loyal to the day on, day off rhythm at ob. this seemed to be a bit of a schroedinger's zwitterion (i.e. i didn't really know til i was out there, and it was positively and negatively charged). a little reserved after day 53, when i checked it i was kind of underwhelmed. but paddle out i did, and when i got outside, it was really nice. head-high glass, kinda short peaky but fun. usually it takes a little while to get the gears moving, but 53 was on immediately. i was literally outside for about 3 minutes when a perfect left is rolling my way; turn, shoot, nice big drop. stoke back through the roof. paddle back out, wait a bit. get lazy trying to get over a should and get kind of caught and dragged over. got pulled inside just enough so that the next one i had to take on the head. serious pull aaaaand snap—leash pops. shit. one perfect wave after two minutes out, and now my session is over. if that don't just say it all. day 55: ob a few days later. i fucking suck. 070303 ... ever dumbening quick maintenance. day 56: everybody at o.b. long time between sessions from the preoccupation and stress of moving and work and lack of surf. so nice to get back in the water after the bullshit, after getting away, after the move. handfull of medium fun ones. a little mother nature back at the cars and then off to the park chalet to look at all the beautiful people and eat some grub. i'm itchin' for the double down, but everyone is a little buzzed from the beers at lunch. single d and i had been talking about bodysurfing earlier, so when we were back down at sloat checking it and i said "bodywhomp!" everyone was immediately onboard with the plan. back to taraval, suit up with the wet wetties, swim into the fray. ll brought his new cam and we mucked around in the shorepound with the shortboarders. single d caught some really nice ones, fun to watch. day 57: contest at p.p. chauffeur the drunk peeps down to the new hut (sweeeeet as fuck: hot tub, outdoor shower, hardwood floors). wanted to try the ass-crack dawnie, but didn't look great in the dark. foot draggin' ensues and when we finally get out to first peak the contest is already going on. decent conditions, but it was annoying having the contestants freak when we weren't even surfing where they were. lunch. hot tub. back out. sunny now and crowded. hanging out in front of jack's and it's like malibu. frustrated by the way i react in crowds; just need to go, and get out if the guy deeper makes it. day 58: really jonesin' to be in the water. dy and i meet up and head to bopu. small, no push, practically uncatchable. made the best of it though, and it was just really good to be in the water. rode ll's naish woody: really wide, hard to control the yaw too (lots o' log). day 59: p.p. stressed. should be doing this and should be doing that. ll finally talks me into heading down to meet them (even though he won't be in the water since he fucked up his ribs the day before). glad i went down. started out with dy, m, and p at 38th, but the lulls were way too long, so i headed over to 2nd peak. kinda vibey. bunch of teen shortboarders got into it with a sponger. the old turn to paddle in brings the sets theory was in full effect. caught a couple nice longs ones, and after each one as i was paddling out this one woman was coming right down the line with serious style, nice nose rides. short double down with m and p. three times i got burned on taking an early wave and then getting caught inside. duh. rode ll's woody again. slightly better results than the week before. 070408 ... i love you and am digging this. 070408 ... ever dumbening thanks for the kindness. i desperately wish i was surfing more. and i wish i wasn't so distracted with other crap that i could flesh out the entries a little more mindfully. i often put them off, so that when i get around to writing them they lack the detail and insight and beauty that the retelling deserves*. glad you're enjoying them nonetheless. *two of those recent sessions had great sunsets on the back end of the double down. one had quenelles of light leaping like so many mackerel through the shore pound. the other saw a full moon rising over monterey bay to the left—which full moon would later tempt us for a night surf at the hook—and the setting sun lighting up pleasure point to the right, while we looked straight ahead for the one that would take us to the beach. 070408 ... ever dumbening day 60: christmas at pleasure point [in the spirit of the previous post—trying to post sooner—we bring you today's surf report ... today. -ed] now you may say to yourself, boy, that james has soaked his poor brain in brine; everyone knows today is not christmas, but instead, oster montag. but as my sister (cistern as i was calling her today, since she was carrying my water) was my secret santa back in december, and today was my day to cash in on my "day in santa cruz," ergo q_e_d quid proc helicopter hoc plusquam requiem today is christmas. we did some knocking around in the local surf shops, looking at gear. i was checking out stuff for the season that just passed, i.e. a hood and gloves, but isn't that the nature of shopping. we decided to wait until the memorial day surf sales, since i don't really need the stuff right now. since we were on the east side of town, we popped down to capitola village for lunch (also part of the secret santa deal). lunch was decent, but is was just nice to chill and catch up. then we rolled back to pp to check it. kinda offshore/sideshore, funky, sectiony. the waves looked like rope, or clay that had been twisted. whitecaps (yo man, yo momma so poor, she has to use the _gold_ car to fill up the hummer ... ooo snap ... sorry, inside joke, ask matt) out past the wind line were strong indicators of why things were so junky. i paddled out in front of jack's so my sister could watch. the pickings were slim, and she was having trouble knowing which one of the black-suited seagulls i was. caught a fun one right when she walked up, but then was struggling. then a nice one comes through, and i'm figuring the guy further out was going right (it's a right hand point for fuck's sake) so i pop up going left. hoot hoot, shit. so i kick out. dude, you suck for taking my left. again, though, it reinforces my hypothesis of "just go either way" and kick out if necessary. then i paddled over to 2nd peak. not much happening there either. in fact the shape was even more fucked up there, but as always there were more pulses coming through. sat there for a while, luckless. then i was getting cold from the wind (hey, where are those gloves and that hood we didn't buy?), so i start to paddle in. of course, as always happens, when in both word and fact i start to head in, here comma da waves. nice one sections off, heading my way, paddle paddle paddle paddle, plane, pop up, take 'er home. end on a stoke not a choke, as they say. merry christmas. 070409 ... ever dumbening day 61: offshores at the bo. it may be small, and it may be a drive, but the northwest howlers are offshore at bopoo. and after then insane winds of the last two weeks, i was just glad to find anything surfable. even though it's only been two weeks since i last paddled out, it has seemed like forever. i've been needing a serious fix, but conditions have been horrible. there was one exception: epic conditions in santa cruz just three days after i was there last. they got some of that south-swell perfection that lit up socali. spent the day with an interesting female prospect—artist, traveler, risk-taker. went to mission dolores in the city after lunch and coffee. early in the date i figured if it sucked i would bolt and go charge the surf. but as time went along and we were having fun, i just sort of wrote surf off. too, it was pretty damn windy in the city, so i thought maybe even the bo would be blown out. i was kind of sandbaggin' it on the way home, but then just motivated. mind mind mind. i paddle out in the channel instead of the patch, even though there were three times as many people. get outside no sweat. not out a couple minutes, turn and shoot, nice quick left. after that though, i just let my stupid brain get in the way again, always worrying about everyone else in the water instead of what _i'm_ supposed to be doing. plus i think i jinxed myself with the old saw about just being happy with one wave. dur. then i felt guilty when it seemed like this guy gave me a wave and i just couldn't get under it. that's a sure fire way to stamp kook across one's forehead. oh well. i made the drive. paddled out. caught one. i just wish i didn't suck so badly. 070423 ... as always james...perfect. 070424 ... ever dumbening time for a little catch up (catsup? ketchup?). day 62: the very next day at the bo. after floundering the day before in the channel, i wasn't really ready for a reprise. i paddled out in the patch instead. considerably fewer people, with good reason. i caught many more waves, and people were having fun in a chill atmosphere. it felt somewhat clunky though, because i knew what i was missing in the channel (because i knew what i had failed to claim the day before in the channel). the drive home was perfectly timed with catching the whole hour of _city arts and lectures_. great reading and q & a with anne lamott. very powerful, about grieving and other life-affirming shit. yeah. "You can safely assume that you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do." -- anne lamott day 63: crowded pleasure point. some scraps. double down. really long walls at 2nd peak made it impossible to get scraps. nothing was sectioning off. crowd. brain. skill-free. grr. day 64: manresa and pp double. m was in town from denver; hadn't seen him for two years. it was fun catching up on everything that had gone down since he left. the two of us and his old roommate drove down to pp, but we took a pass due to the crowds and decided to try manresa. it was my first time there. since ob has been blown out for so long, it had been a while since i had paddled out at a beach breach. peaky lurching inconsistent. oh yeah, this is a beach break. ha. people were super mellow; lots of "sharing is caring" going on. short rides but fun. weird warm water patch, kinda reddish brown. hmmm. so then we drive back up to pp to store m's gear at j's. i get a call from ll, "hey what're you doing?" i tell him i'm in santa cruz. a happy, incredulous laugh escapes, "stay there, i'm on my way down." m and his roommate take off, dumping me and my gear at pp. boy, i sure hope ll makes is down, or i am stranded-o-rama. a shaka from inside a black civc allays my fears. m and p happen to be down there and we bump into them. we paddle out and they meet us out shortly thereafter. not having much luck until the end. farther inside was better. we traded some fun ones and got tossed while being lazy on small ones. day 65: bo with dy. first sesh post job-quitting. yay. conditions were pretty lame. people were getting some, but this swell and my board just didn't agree. dy was on a loaner board from local shaper j. some shithead dinged it and didn't say anything. we went in. j was totally cool and just gave her another board. good to be in good with the local shaper. i was having better luck in the second half, but not by much. i was just stoked to have quit my job, after four long years, so wave count was kind of irrelevant. dy's friend k met us out there. day 66: return of the stoke. hanging with the fam for father's day. knew the crew was down in the cruz, but wasn't sure i'd make it down. saw a seam, took the shot. made it down in good time for a late afternoon paddle out. and surprise surprise: crowded at pleasure point. something was different, though. ll and i paddled out through the back door, between 1st and sewers. don't mind us, fellas, just passing by. after an early kooked take-off, for some reason i was just making it work. peaks were appearing in lots of different places. so even though it wasn't really sectioning off, there were lots of spots working. i was sitting kind of far outside, and that usually means everything passes right under me (or someone paddles out just in time to snake). but the outside waves came my way, i popped up on some late drops, and well how-d-do, this is _me_ picking off the rides in the crowd. ll's buddy "lighthouse earp" was out and directing traffic as usual, which always helps. he missed one, which brought him inside me. then we both see another coming. he tells me to go. when w tells you to go, you go. niiiice long ride. thanks w. then this mellow, smiley japanese guy and i are trading waves and smiles. super cool. i think some of my success on day 66 has to do with the recent lap swimming i've been doing. but who knows? i was just having a good old time. my only regret was when a big clean up set rolled through. i was the only one far enough outside not to get cleaned up. i look behind me as i'm scratching for the outside--every last soul got caught inside. i almost get pulled over the falls on the bomb of the set, but i'm thinking there's one more behind it. nope. damn. should've just taken my chances with the big daddy, even though i'm sure i would've gotten pounded. stoooked. 070620 ... ever dumbening and for once, i was the one having people apologize to me for getting in my way. 070620 ... ever dumbening again, slacking off on my duties as recorder. but really, that relates more to slacking off on all my duties, and to a return of darkness to my soul. though there has been largely shit surf, there have been days, and i have had the time, but the brain is broken, the body is broken. nevertheless, nine surf days have rolled in since the last set. day 67: red, white, and poo(cifica). started out the nation's birthday in the water with c and d. decent. went to golden gate park and bbq'd and smoked some herb. all in all, not a bad way to celebrate a severely disabled country's birth. day 68: sharks. two days later, down to the cruz. it was ll and i on a friday. for kicks we paddled out at sharks, which was the first time i had paddled out below the hook since day four. a little crowded at first, and kind of caught between the crowd there and the shoulder hopppers picking up scraps from the hook. but the all of a sudden, it cleared out and we basically had it all to ourselves. caught a bunch of fun ones, and actually had ll drop in on _me_ three times. dude, you owe me. also found out that one of the surf hut crew went to high school with my sister-in-law. small world. day 69 thru 72: four straight at lindy. then on monday, i started a string of five straight days of surf, with the first four at the marv. kind of a blur now. day one was super choppy, windy. day two and three were clean and tiny; tons of small waves. day four was small in front of the lot, but then i paddled north just to get some exercise and there were actually a few fun ones. day 73: the return to ob. it think it had been forever and a day since i had paddled out at ob. it has been complete and utter shit at the beach for an eternity. and the few semi-decent days i either missed or just wasn't looking. seriously, i was there for a walk one night, and i saw several people out in the absolute most garbage conditions ever. damn, y'all are desperate. anywho, small clean sunny peaky mellow short rides. basically fun. interlude: wall meet james. depression fucking sucks. forcing myself to surf might've been easier had the conditions been worth fighting for. alas. day 74: lindo, after the fall. tired, unhappy, out of shape. ll begs me to help him cover some shifts at tuwanna. so i do, and this precludes the decision about going to the desert (which i could've used, but wasn't really feeling anyway). i come in to do a quick training session, and the ll says, hey let's jet and surf. having no excuse, i say yes. we meet up with d and head over. ll was grabbing plenty on his shorty. mon was there too, and she was making it look easy (so much of it is about reading the swell, because she always got the best set waves--experience). i caught a handful, nothing great. wasn't as tired or weak as expected, but i was sore for the next two days. day 75: making lindy home. d called yesterday morning, but i had been up super late after going to a cool exhibition and sale of t-shirts handmade by local artists (and then trying to get home with munihaven't walked that much in the city since march of '83). scored one that has a picture of a great white on it that says 'the landlord'. clutch. so we rescheduled for today (although she did paddle out yesterday, even though she only caught one, because she took somebody to the hospital who smacked his head on her board). mostly clean, long walls. paddled out a little farther north. avoided the crowd nicely. traded waves with short-haired guy on a red-trim longboard. got about six decent ones. still playing with the single fin setup. much squirrelier on the faster steeper faces. it just speed-wobbles and then shoots out from under me. made a super late drop that ended up working out just fine; would've been pound city had that been at ob. tentatively feeling the motivation return. try again tomorrow. 25 gets me to 100. if fall ever arrives, and if i'm living reasonably close, and if job and money and and and and and. we should be able to beat the year. 070826 ... ever dumbening day 76: slop chop and drop, where but ob? tried to rope in a few co-chargers, no takers. check ob, check lindy, back to ob. it looked worse upon returning. damn. paddled out at sloat after checking a few spots in the middle of the beach. lemming patrol in effect (i realize the irony of this sentence after typing the previous sentence). people, there are other peaks. but it worked out for me (sort of). the cluster was south of me, so i had my own peak. couple early ones. then two folks nosed in on my little kingdom. paddle north to taraval. ahh, new clean peak (the other seemed to have been shutting down). nice left, ah backside. then they drifted my way again, so i went back the other way. caught a little transitional right, but then it took a minute to get back outside. grr, i'm missing out on these sets. pretty much shut out after that. belly ride to the beach into the weird steep shore pound. i seriously need to be careful on the inside; i'm more likely to break a neck or a board there than i am to do any damage in the steep and deep. 070831 ... FUCK THE WORLD WHO THE FUCK IS GOING TO READ ALL OF THAT? 070901 ... f-light i like pictures and headlines and surf teachers! what else do i like? well maybe i should ask you that question... 070902 ... ever dumbening interlude: addressing the rabid priest dear FUCK THE WORLD, fortunately, you won't. --ed 070906 ... ever dumbening day 77: lazy lindo friday with dy. nothing great, but we found a less crowded peak slightly north. lots of backing off. came up with new nomenclature: fakers and partakers. waves that jack up and back off are fakers; ones that hold and turn into rideables are partakers. day 78: ob, the "b" stands for bicker. ll and dy are now in greece, and this was their last session before taking of for three weeks. m and p were along as well. lots of bickering about where to surf. really annoying. paddled out at ob. my rip beat ll's rip, but then i got lazy and pulled over the falls backward. duh. caught a decent one right away, but then hmmmm. sandbars were strange: long flat inside, then dropoff. so the takeoff zone was narrow; couldn't linger around too far in or out, else nothing or pounding. highlight was chatting with a cutie named becky before the paddle out. day 79: lindy the better choice? checked ob, looked angry. lots of work for little reward. off to the marv then. north end empty, found out why. endless walls, no rip, no way out. tried the north end, tried the middle, finally made it out just south of the t-hell. pretty much long closeout walls. got a few good drops. strange day. rocking the green pedi that matches sco. oh yeah. saw a kid yesterday with a t-shirt that said "the sco." reckon i gots ta get me one a them. 070906 ... fuffle give me some soap, sodium hydroxide mixed with tobacco, you call that coke do you ! whats the secret reciepe then? why's it so addictive? hee hee, do you still put a bit of cocaine in it ? ohhhh what a recipe that is. BANG. ORDER IN THE COURT ! NOT GUILTY. whooops thats a lucky net bounce. 070906 ... f YOUR RECIPE BOY is fine fine fine you face cake. The A team ! 070906 ... ever dumbening day 80: sniffing autumn met c and l out at sloat. dry hair paddle out. textured, a little lumpy-bumpy in spots, but clean and decent in others. inconsistent. right after getting out, took a crack at four, but didn't get over on any. i did end up making all the drops i took though. first half kinda slow, then i got a few more after c left. if nothing else, the insane endless winds of spring (that lasted six months) have finally broken a bit, and fall might be here soon. 070910 ... ever dumbening day 81: chasing phone call from a cute female has me getting ready quickly, so that i can surf and then meet the cute female for lunch. too, my beach choice was affected: lindy might've been better with the high, but ob was closer. paddled out at sloat for the sake of convenience and speed. fun. more consistent than yesterday. warmer, sunnier. kooked the first two drops. distracted? caught the next seven or so, kooked a couple more, caught a couple more. done. kinda swamped with the high tide, but plenty rideable. current not too terrible. paddle out easy after each ride. amazing shared experience with another surfer. paddling back out we're both staring straight at a large dolphin dropping right down the face of the good-sized set wave coming our way. so sweet. before i got to say anything, she turns to me and asks if i saw that. boy howdy. unreal. date was okay, but still full of confusing signals. dating sucks. surf. 070910 ... ever dumbening day 82: a tale to two beaches checked ob first, no real shoulder to speak of. mush. was probably better two or three hours earlier. down to terrifica. coming of the hill, i decided to go to the north end of the beach. somehow, between that moment and paddling out, i either got distracted by the attractive woman next to me or just got lazy. i paddled out in front of the bathrooms. sat around for a while. tiny. loooong lulls. lame. decided to go for a paddle. north. came upon a pack. hey look, waves. turn, shoot, nice. but decided to keep paddling. got about 75 yards farther, and it was on. caught about five waves in ten minutes. fun lefts. then it shut down again. wtf. but then they returned in clumps. more fun rides. take a junker back in call it a day. it's a trip how different it is at different spots on that beach. gotta search. two more cuties in the parking lot. crave crave crave. 070913 ... e. d. interlude sorry. i used to proof my blathes. lame. 070913 ... ever dumbening day 83: lighting director woke up late after being at k&p's for p's birthday. p was being annoying and drunk and trying to give me advice. lindy report said 2-4 (after 1-3 yesterday, i figured it would be sweet, if a little windy from the late jump); 2-4 it was not. did see the same cutie from yesterday though. drove to montara. looked decent from the cliff. strange in the water however. steep beach and high tide made for lots of refraction. that beach is always so beautiful. nice clean coarse toasted-wheat-colored sand, clean water, cool eroded cliffs. lots of time to look around today. sets were very inconsistent. early, the fog took over and flattened the light drastically, a lovely but impossible to read silver. then it climbed a bit to a higher cloud cover. the water had this strange looking ripple (though i'm certain it was lighting not wind) that looked like computer generated graphics, a la the abyss, or terminator, or some such. the water there is this rich clear army green. looking back towards the shore was like looking at a living painting. water sand cliff hill cloud sky, up and over back down behind me to water. only got a few rides. all the bounce back made things warbly. the best (and craziest/funnest) wave was a quicky right where i was trying to get a little head dip. since i was looking down the line, i didn't notice the wave coming back out from the shore. sproing! launched straight up off my board. would've been sweet if i had seen it coming; i could've (maybe) skateparked that shit. thought about a whomp post sesh, but just bailed. 070914 ... no reason i'd like to try someday i enjoyed my brief brush with windsurfing 070914 ... ever dumbening day 84: the other end of the beach lindy hoppin'. met up with m & p. relatively empty parking lot. kids back in school helps a bit. everyone is clustered out in front of the creek. guess the nw pulses are starting to show. short period. lots of backing off, but just enough break to get on it and then pump it for the inside reform. caught my first ten or so, then finally broke the perfect streak and kooked the drop. pretty high wave count despite the conditions. everyone is itching for fall. 070918 ... little lying gurl i saw that surf dude before, yeah, that was him, it must be, what ya doing in the stupid city? go back to the beach, or help me get that lady a matress. 070918 ... ever dumbening day 85: meh close-out city at lindonesia. tried the north end, but it was too big for the conditions. couldn't find the left shoulder i saw from the beach. sold out for the tiny crap at the south end. got a few, mostly just smaller close-outs. overall unsatisfying sesh. tired cold snarky mood. 070920 ... ever dumbening day 86: fuck first pretty good fall-like conditions and i kook out. since i'm in a shitty mental state, i'm also in a shitty physical state. i'm not eating well, so my energy is all fucked up. i actually tried to wake up early, knowing it was supposed to be decent. didn't end up making the early call, but i think the high tide was kind of killing it early anyway. got up and had breakfast, but then killed a bunch of time watching a stupid movie on cable. by the time i got out, my breakfast energy was already on the outs. i knew that but only slightly tried to remedy that--a banana and some pretzels. it looked pretty damn good when i pulled up, and less crowded than expected. the paddle out looked totally doable. famous last words. i didn't plan my paddle out well and it cost me dearly. it took forever to get outside. wasted tons of energy that i didn't even have to waste. finally made it out, then sat. and sat. paddled around looking for a good peak. and sat. finally i take a swing at one. nice clean steep fast drop. blown. goddamnit. really should have made it. so then i get caught inside again. tried for a while to make it back out, but to no avail. took a break on the beach for a while. tried one last time to paddle out. again no luck. i know i'm supposed to give myself a break and show some compassion, but i'm just annoyed. it's everything going shitty at once. "its hard for me to manage more than one man and i have fallen hard for someone else. i would still like to chat sometime if u would like." things like that don't add to the right pile. grrrr. 070922 ... ever dumbening day 87: paddle pound repeat 070923 ... ever dumbening day 88: um? ll and d back in town (albeit a day or two before the date i had in my mind). late night picking them up from the airport, and then an early morning taking cd to the airport. very little sleep. actually checked ob and lindy on the way back from the airport. took a frequently interrupted short nap. off to the marv we go. pretty much closed out everywhere, but what the hell. paddle out in front of crespi. glad we didn't tackle ob today. i'm too exhausted. sunny warm. mh joined us too. pretty lame overall; very low wave count. one interesting one was where i basically made the drop over the foam ball. not really sure how that even worked. it seems like i should've either gotten taken over the falls or had it pass under me. but there i went, and somehow i made it. strange. kept paddling around looking for something better. the only thing vaguely better was a cutie farther south. caught a couple, pearled a couple in front of the bathrooms. called it a day. an improvement over the last couple days, but barely and only because i went in the kiddie pool and made it out there. yay me. 070924 ... ever dumbening day 89: climb out after four relatively (a couple being absolutely) crappy sessions, a little redemption was carved from the surface of mother ocean today. two nights of little sleep were also turned around when i got a pretty solid ten last night. got a call from ll and dy, with ll in a tizzy about getting out the door. i let them go check it and call me. ended up meeting them at the south end of ob. dy didn't paddle out, so i met ll out there. not much luck, sideshores putting some twist and ledginess in it. caught one in to see if dy wanted to paddle out farther south. single d and the leaf pulled up. we talked dy into joining everyone in the middle of the beach. good call. waaay cleaner (if a little smaller). current was pulling hard. fought the drift for a while, then finally just flowed with it. caught a few, kooked a few. caught a nice long right before calling it a day. when we parked our cars, single d blew out his tire on the curb. since we got out of the water before he did, we had fun pretending to make a locals attack on his car. i took a box cutter and stuck it in the hole of the blow out, making it look like his tires got slashed. then ll wrote in the dirt on his windows, "go home kook," and other sundry threats. sushi at ebisu rounded it out. see if we can't continue this upward trend. maybe the cuties from florida will paddle out tomorrow. mmmm florida cuties. 070925 ... ever dumbening day 90: numbers five straight seven of the last nine and fourteen of the twenty-six days of september lots of surf lately. none of it off the charts, but conditions are getting better. and eventually i hope to collide the trains of quality surf and quality mind/body. made the trek with ll down south. started at sharks and sampled the peaks from there all the way to 2nd. paddling drifting floating avoiding waiting standing falling sectioning. completely out of juice at 2nd peak when things actually picked up a bit. made our way in for a recharge. slab o' pizza, chill for a bit, forge out again. kinda limited pickings. a very well-known surfer who is a regular in the competition at mavericks (i.e. 30 foot plus waves) was mucking around with us in the two foot slop (with his young son, he's not stupid after all, but it was ironic). sun goes down, full moon comes up. lighthouse earp shows his face, and guess what the waves start showing up in, well, waves. thanks bro, you're fun to surf with. start paddling back towards jack's and stop to find a consistent little nugget zone. beat lighthouse there for once. and as it got darker and darker, he and i were just laughing and surfing and having a good old time. the full moon was lighting it up pretty well, but kind of from the wrong angle. and the sideshore winds were roping it up (a fact which amazed me since the fetch was pretty limited, guess it doesn't take much). caught one last one all the way into the cove next to jack's for the step-off dismount. aaaaand done. gorgeous indian summer day and night. 070927 ... :( please don't leave me out here with no surf board, i've never done this before and i'm not interested to watch you show off whist i drown. 070927 ... ever dumbening day 91: quiet after the storm a bit of a lull after all the recent surfing. trekked out to the bo. nothin' doin'. tried the patch first. nope. tried the channel at sunset. seemed like more potential, but there was a huge tide pouring out of the lagoon, so it was super tricky to stay in the right spot. lots of junk spewing out as well, eewwwww. lagoon menses. hehe. skunked, but got my serious paddle on. day 92: coasting with double L checked poo-riffica first and then just kept on looking, all the way down hwy 1. all blown out. should've just headed straight to the cruz, because that's where we ended up. pretty nice conditions, but suuuuper crowded for a wednesday. snagged a couple early, but then just couldn't dial the crowd and the conditions. what i wouldn't give for an empty day at a point, epic not even necessary. just a chance to test my skills as a surfer, not my skills as a pedestrian in liquid bangkok streets. 071006 ... ever dumbening days 93, 94: punchin' the clock a couple non-descript days at lindy. fall is here. big closeout bombs one day, decent rideables the other. interlude: really punchin' the clock ramping up to a job and then actually working. sweet new gig. good pay, good people, good. unfortunately, the surf started firing like crazy. clean. swell. offshore. fuck. four-plus, surf-filled weeks pass between sessions. day 95: in monterey last night to hang with peter m and liz g, whom i haven't seen in 13 and 25 years respectively. peter was tearing it up with billy kilson and bob hearst. fuck yeah. got the text message from dy about surfing ob. called her, but then found out they were pretty much ready to go and i had to drive two hours _and_ get my gear from north beach. meh. paddled out at moraga. totally out of shape, mentally, physically. push push push. didn't think i'd make it outside, but gave it one last push to get out. now sit there for a long time to recover. current not pulling much at the tide swing, but then the alphabet march got underway. not sure if conditions were deteriorating, or if i just drifted off the peak. waited waited. took a few cracks but just couldn't get into 'em. setting up inside was essential, but i was low on fuel, so fuck it. finally rode one in that exploded into a foam ball. whatever. no expectations. get wet. next. day 95 071103 ... ever dumbening day 96: tired of sucking so i'm being a little harsh on myself in some ways here. but sucking and the writing about it are droll. i have some justification for my suckery, but that's irrelevant. good conditions again today; beach day with the gang. made a nice drop early, but shifted my weight back and couldn't dial the bottom turn. outside was backing off; inside was either too racy or closing out. done. snack time on the beach. the rest of the crew didn't seem too motivated for the double down, but in the end, single d couldn't resist. here's where things got interesting. i decided to borrow lc's short board (and i do mean short). wow, what a concept, the duck dive! not that i was doing them well, but i was doing them. and after a bit of a shaky start, i made it outside (and a couple more times after that even, despite my utter exhaustion). took a crack at about four waves. got pummeled on all, after almost making the first. it was crazy glassy and beautiful out there, so despite riding zero, i'd say the afternoon session was cool. unfortunately, now i think i might want a short board. that just means i pumped the already difficult learning curve full of steroids. great. 071104 ... ever dumbening day 97: drought drought: a lack of water, or water time, or pussy. work and work and work, and so but then three-plus months pass. and what i need is surf, but what i have is stress. today felt like the first day off in two and a half months, where i actually had time to expand a bit. dy called and i knew i couldn't say no. off to the bo. conditions were typical bo: back off city. there was a moment where i was just sitting there with my eyes closed, drifting, bobbing. a woman paddled by, noticed my peace, smiled; i smiled back. good to be back in the water after so long. caught a few scraps. last one was a nice long one where i was able to move up and back on the board to stay in the right spot, so that was nice, especially considering the length of the layoff. nice painted sky on the way home, crossing the golden gate. then raclette across the bay. tasty. 080209 ... ever dumbening day 98: hrm. another four months pass. new home. missed art. work mellows. surf. no, not me up on waves. but surf. out of shape. uncertain. paddle paddle paddle. the avenues drift north. 080621 ... unhinged did it feel good to get back in the water? 080621 ... unhinged 'surfing is not a sport; it's a religion. it's a metaphor for all of life. you have to time the waves; if you go with the waves, it works; if you don't, it doesn't -- you get pounded. balance is important in life. balance is important in surfing. timing is important in life. timing is important in surfing. you have to learn to ride the waves that you're give.' --- roger cole, yoga journal aug '08 080622 ... ever dumbening i suck at surfing :: ... ? 080622 ... unhinged (it wasn't til recently that i thought i was any good at the violin; this october i will have been playing for eighteen years) 080623 ... unhinged *given typos...gggrrrrr *sigh* 080623 ... nots the web 080624 what's it to you? who go blather from