thanks to Krys for the photo.
It's been a busy few weeks. Work, camping, a potential new home, a bit of surf, physical therapy, have all weighed in on my time. I appreciate the notes I got that people miss my ramblings. It's nice to have a forum/community to be a part of.
Last weekend was the annual Big Sur trip. It went amazingly well. We had a great group of people on a mission to get some good surf, good party, and good scenery in. We got a little skunked the first couple days in terms of wave quality, but Sunday delivered some close to perfection (despite my own personal challenges) empty right point waves for the gobbling.
6 of us arrived early on Friday. The drive down was rainy and wet, but the scenery offered a blue sky at the horizon, heading our way. I was nervous about scoring a good spot for the 12 of us scheduled to appear. The camping season hadn't really started though, so we got prime choice in terms of sites. A quick walk to the beach to check the surf left us excited and giddy to get wet, but by the time we made it down to the beach with gear it was blown to chop. It was a ridiculous, disorganized unsurfable mess. We fooled around on the inside sections, because making it to the outside to catch the six foot closeouts seemed near impossible. The backdrop and cold water somehow made the session invigorating nonetheless.
At this point in the story I would like to point out an important part of this trip for me. My dearly beloved, who doesn't surf, was there, sans any non-surfing buddies to pal around with. We've been together longer than I've surfed. He is wonderful. He's my outdoor, park ranger (literally), burly outdoorsy man. He is supportive of, although sometimes irritated by, my obsession with surfing. This was probably his first full immersion into the reality of my surfing life. Everyone there, minus B's new girlfriend was there to catch waves. It wasn't my intention, but all of D's friends bailed on the trip, so it was just him and the surf pack. He seemed to have a great time anyway, and he'll correct me if I'm wrong, I think a little bit of the fever rubbed off on him.
I've tried to get D to get in the water with me before. When I first started surfing he'd come to LM with me, rent a board and wetsuit and we'd thrash around in the white water together. It was sweet and supportive, and probably scarred his zest for the sport to this day. We would go out in the worst conditions. Messy whitewash, high wind, cold water. We'd both practice catching the wave after it had broken and struggling to our feet. He always did quite well, even on a shortboard. Eventually the fever stuck with me and I bought a board and a suit and found some surf buddies. He never liked it that much, so he didn't. He always said that it was too much cold, that the waves tumbled him and getting tossed wasn't that much fun for such little payoff. Little did I know then that there are more friendly ways to learn to surf. I didn't have someone to take me out to the lineup and talk me through wave takeoff, ettiquette and board design. K and I taught ourselves and saught out knowledge to fill in between the lines of what we could learn on our own. Either way, D's first experience was a crappy way to start and now that I know that, I've urged him over and over to let me show him a new, more gentle way to get into it. I'd say it's a decision he'll have to come to on his own.
Maybe it'll happen. Maybe not. If he never gets in the water it'll be fine by me. But when someone loves something as much as I love surfing, you want the people you love the most to give it a go. The first couple days in Big Sur he considered it, but the conditions were fickle and the time we spent in the car driving up and down that magical coast was enough to convince anyone to just chill on the beach, smoke a doobie and look at the waves from shore.
On the last day there we hiked down a beautiful path to a perfect right point break, peeling and spitting with offshore wind. It was picturesque (despite me not lugging my 10 lb camera in), challenging on the takeoff, perfect on the face and heavy on the closeout, over a somewhat shallow rock bottom. I paddled out and didn't catch as much as I'd have liked. I was on the MSF, a board I'm not used to or the least bit confident on. The strong wind kept me out of half the waves I couldn't make, my fear of landing the takeoff was the other half... but it was still a magical session. When I finally got back on the Bob Miller that Krys was borrowing, I caught one of the best waves I've caught all spring. I was cold and stiff and sloppy and I struggled to hold onto it, but it was a fast shoulder high screamer that was really fun.
The whole time I was out there I could see D on the beach, taking photos and watching us surf. When I got out he walked up to me and told me how awesome and fun it looked. He looked stoked and excited, almost as much as the rest of us. It was cool to imagine that the energy from a three hour surf session on a good day was strong enough to rub off on someone seeing it from the shore. We all hiked back to the cars with salty lips, sunburned cheeks and sore shoulders. The backdrop was as perfect as I always remember it being. The San Lucia Mountains reaching high and green, the sun setting behind us over the water. D and I got in the car and drove home. The next morning he woke up and said, "I dreamt of surfing."
Labels: big sur, relationships, surf
