Land O' Lefts

Back on my Manny again Thursday night. Bolted from work a little early to get some 8' at 10 seconds goodness. There's a spot where a stiff northwest wind blows offshore and 8 feet is more like 4-5. Shorties: A place people love to hate. For whatever reason. And the water is cold again. I hope I don't have start wearing gloves this month.

I'm loving my Manny more and more in these waves. Wedgey beachbreak seems to be the perfect playground for the 2+1. I have very little problem getting in early--you know the kinds of casual drop-ins where you have a few seconds to look down the line, get your bearings, and decide whether or not it's going to close out. The board has no problem riding really high on steep faces. One wave in particular I thought I'd get pitched, but I just kept flirting with the feathering lip and it stayed true and stable. So much speed, with spray blowing high into the air off my rail.

Confession: I unapologetically dropped in on someone on my first wave of the day. First time I'd ever done that, actually. This guy who'd just caught a wave paddled inside of me where I had been waiting for 15 minutes to catch my first. The peak was fickle, but I knew that if I waited it out, instead of chasing ghosts like the rest of the pack, it would pay off. Sure enough, the dude paddled up 10 feet to my left and was still on his stomach when the set I was waiting for arrived. He just turned around and started stroking for it and I thought, "Oh no he dii-in't!" and went for it. It was a stellar left that set the tone for the the rest of the session, which was a blast. I don't think he made the section anyway.

Does that make me a monster?


Nick Lowe - So It Goes

Worth It

Last week I snuck out to the beach after putting in a long day of writing. I knew I'd be leaving town for a dry weekend, so I had to make the most of the smallish conditions. One peak was overrun with 10 or so surfers, so I paddled out at the second creek, opting for a steady flow of tiny waves all to myself. It was glassy and fun and I ran into Slim (right upper corner), who was putting his new Art Colyer-shaped "speed dialer" through its paces. Looking forward to blowing off more steam when the waves pick up a little this week!

The National - Daughters of the Soho Riots

Short Sands Magic

Always great to sneak out on a Friday and get some waves. Hadn't been to Shorties in a while, and it was nice to get it on a day when it could be surfed again. The sun was shining, the sets were aplenty (and peaky up and down the beach). Ebb and I exchanged waves for three hours. Cha-ching!

I guess you could say today was a good day. See you Sunday...

Boy Least Likely To - Paper Cuts

Things Fall Apart

The center cannot hold, and all that. This was yesterday morning. I imagine that when people from other parts of the country think of Oregon surf, this is what they envision. A lot of times - especially in winter - this is what you get. Blown, chopped, chossed, crossed. Our most recent transplant to Oregon from California, Markarito (pictured), hasn't actually experienced really good surf here yet. He still works in LA often, so his surf trips here have been relatively limited.

He's got a lot to look forward to.

Danielson - Two Sitting Ducks

More Like It

Attempting to surf huge winter swell (see last post) is like swinging two bats in the hole before going to the plate in baseball. When you finally step into the box on a day like yesterday, surfing summery waves seems all too easy.

It was a near-perfect day: gentle offshore breezes, consistent sets, long lefts, sunshine. I surfed with one other guy for most of my three-hour session, the owner of a surf shop in Seaside. I also ran into Foul Pete, who had already been out there several hours before I arrived.

It was a good day for a quad. As a matter of fact, I found myself wishing for a little more size as the tide quickly drained out of cove. So soon we forget the winter's wrath when given gentle gifts like these...

Now that's more like it.

Professor Murder - Mountain

One Wave Day

Saturday was bigger than the bouys were reading, and gnarlier than the 4-star rating given by Magic Seaweed's forecast site. It looked pretty unsurfable at first, but we went for it anyway, paddling out on the north side of Shorties. Amazingly, there were some workable lefts firing through, if you could find the shifty peak.

Smithy found it first and ripped a long head-high grinder. I think he caught a couple more too, the lucky sod. After being manhandled by a few head-plus closeouts (where I'd have to belly back to the rip just to get outside again), I finally grabbed a big left. Popped up and my feet were too close together, but the drop was so hairy that I couldn't adjust. I just hung on for dear life, the instability of my stance freezing me. I flew down the line, eyeballs bulging, legs shaking, trying to find my way back up the face. Warp speed achieved, I assessed my situation: I was heading directly into a closing righthand section. Exit plan? Couldn't make it over the back, so I had to do my patented swan dive into the trough.

After a few gymnastic twirls under the whitewater, I emerged, my left leg still being yanked by the elastic leash. I made it. Paddled back to the rip and back out to the lineup, only to be caught inside by one of the biggest monsters I've ever experienced.

The photo above is from after we got out. I'd consider it mid-sized in comparison to the sneaker sets.

Toll: Two surfboards dinged (neither of which were mine). One glove nearly ripped off my hand during a duckdive. One giant dungeness crab wandering shellshocked in the foam (which I caught and released).

Of Montreal - I Was Never Young