Grandmas Gone Surfing

Thanks for the waves

2009-11-26T17:47:00.001-08:00

Thanksgiving morning, you don't need a brain to know the water's going to be crowded. Especially if it's 55 degrees and the waves are good. And they were.

Just as I got out the sun appeared, casting that light over the water that you only get in the morning, and painting the water such a beautiful blue-gray.

I didn't feel like going for the jetty today, not just because the waves were so good I didn't really need to, but because of what I saw. The jocks were all piled on top of each other and going four or five at once for the same wave. Not just going for them figuring the others wouldn't make it, but they went knowing pretty damn well they were all going to make it and meaning to surf it together. I mean, they were literally surfing on top of each other. In typical surf jock fashion they hooted and hollered happily (a couple who rode in literally rail to rail jumped off their boards smiling and yelling "Happy Thanksgiving!" to each other) even though they were inches away from dying or being seriously injured. I have to think that these guys all knew each other and knew their skill levels---I mean, I have to think that, if only because as far as I know no one got killed today! It surely does take a high level of skill to take off right next to someone and not hit/get hit by them. I did not belong among that crowd today.

When I was at the jetty last time I remember a guy yelling me off a wave when I was a safe distance away from him. Yeah, we were on the same wave but we weren't even gonna come close to hitting each other, even at my skill level. And then when I see what I saw today, I know I wasn't breaching any written or unwritten rule of surf etiquette or doing anything others don't do; he was just yelling at me because he didn't know me and didn't want me near him on "his" wave. Or maybe because I'm a woman. Who knows.

I did do some early popups again today and fall off when trying to make the drop. I saw D. in the water and asked him about what Always Smiling Asian Guy said. Should I stand up at the top of the wave of the bottom? D. said "It depends" which seemed like a good answer. He said, not too soon but not too late. Not at the bottom but not at the top. Yeah. That makes sense.

So, I worked on not getting up too early, and on really thinking about and trying to remember what I do after the popup, which as D. always says is the important thing.

When I got out of the water I got compliments from my other former surf coach (now I can't remember what initial I gave him if any, but it doesn't matter) and another veteran surfer about my progress. People are noticing that I'm getting good.

About these crowds...

2009-11-25T17:20:00.000-08:00

With the warm weather and good waves we're having in November, the crowds continue. Today was another packed day. On a Wednesday morning! And just because I can handle a crowd doesn't mean I necessarily always want to, you know?

Although today was convivial enough. It saw the return of the person I'm going to start calling "Always Smiling Asian Guy." He's always stoked, smiling, hooting for people. He started off a conversation right away. And he offered some friendly advice. He saw me fall backwards off my board and told me I am popping up too soon.

Now, after all these years of not being able to pop up at all (as you can see by the length of this blog) it's hard to conceive that I might possibly be popping up too soon. Well, but I am up before the drop, and that's when I tend to lose my balance.

Is he right, that you are supposed to wait to pop up until after the drop? But that's clearly not what I see people doing, and I was taught that you don't do that because popping up is so much harder when you're at the bottom of a wave, not the top.

This may be an insignificant distinction when we're talking about one or two foot waves, but when they're four or five, yeah, there's a big difference between top and bottom, and it matters.

Whatever the reason, I wasn't getting good rides. I moved farther down the line to get away from the crowds to ponder the question of when to pop up, and worked on it a little without people in my way. I did better down there maybe because of less worry about hitting or being hit by somebody in front of or behind me. In fact, I got several really good, long rides. A gray morning turned into a fun day.

With the jetty jocks

2009-11-17T16:54:00.000-08:00

Today didn't look as big as yesterday at first. In fact when I first checked the waves I was disappointed. I almost thought it was too small. But it was actually as big as yesterday, and conditions were choppier, just to add some challenge.

Plus, as usual after a good day and when waves have been forecast to be better than they are, it was crowded. But I was feeling confident enough to paddle out to the main spot by the jetty, which, as I've said, is traditionally where the best surfers are (AKA jetty jocks, as least when they're male). I've been able to handle myself there well on the 2 foot days, but today was taking it up a notch.

And I proved myself able to handle the four footers as well. Yeah, I had to pull off some waves, and I didn't go on the biggest ones. But as I was out there I realized I was confident in my ability to handle a crowd in waves of this size. It wasn't scary, and there were no collisions or close calls. I got my share of waves (not by taking off on the same wave with others, as the jocks do, but by waiting til no one else was going, usually after they'd all been taken in by a set).

It was a good feeling to realize I've gotten to this point where I am able to hold my own at the jetty. That said, I didn't get any great rides. In fact, once I got up I either fell or didn't really go anywhere. I think I fell because on the bigger waves I instinctively lean back, and then of course I fall backwards off the board. I gotta work on leaning forward on the bigger faster ones. Either that, or I am getting up too quickly.

(in)decision

2009-11-15T15:40:00.000-08:00

Today the forecast was for five to seven foot waves, and it was accurate. That's overhead to most people. But the conditions were about as good as they can be: favorable wind, sun, warm temperatures. Oh, and crowds.

Did I go, or did I not go?

Well. Two days ago, a surfer died at our beach. Right out in front of my window. Perhaps even while I was looking out the window. No, I didn't see it. That day I didn't go out, just because I wasn't feeling it, I was busy, I wasn't sure whether the waves were really manageable. They were, only five to six feet. It wasn't a big day. But this surfer got his leash tied around the wooden sticks which make our beach so hazardous, just as I did and wrote about a little while ago. I finally managed to get my leash off but it wasn't easy and it was terrifying being tethered there as the waves came in. And that day wasn't as big as today. Anyway, he was an inexperienced surfer and couldn't get the leash off, and by the time help arrived, it was too late. This could even have happened to an experienced surfer, though. It could have happened to anyone.

News traveled fast. The next day, though there were large and makeable waves, no one was out. Absolutely no one. A 36 year old man, healthy and fit, dead.

Today, the crowds were back. But people were thinking about the drowning, I am sure.

Not very long ago, there would have been no question or doubt about going out on a 5 to 7 day. I would never have considered it. But now (after all these years) 5 feet doesn't seem so bad, seems manageable and not scary. And I could dodge the bigger waves. And the conditions would never be better, if I wanted to challenge myself.

But my teeth still hurt, the worst surfing injury I've ever had (still don't know how that will end up, if I need surgery). I didn't want to get hurt again.

Yes, no, yes, no. I went to the boardwalk and watched for a while. I ended up watching for as long as I could have been surfing---dontcha hate it when that happens? It's like, if you're going to spend the time, you might as well spend it surfing.

But I was watching and learning. I was watching the surfers the way you do when you feel everything they're feeling as if it's happening in your own body. I was imagining what it would be like to be out there.

Others were doing the same. I saw a young woman stroll up with a shortboard, all ready to go. The look on her face when she saw the waves said everything. She was having doubts. She didn't look happy. She stood for a while, watching, exactly as I was. I am quite sure we were thinking the same thing: so crowded. It's bad to be in a crowd on a big day if you're a bit unsure of ourselves. I almost said something about the crowd, but didn't. The reason I think she was thinking along those lines was that she finally walked down to the end up the lineup, where waves were not as good but it was far less crowded. I'd have done the same. I watched her for a while, and watched a guy with a blue longboard. I watched him get out, much as I would. It took a while, but he made it. If he made it, I could make it. I didn't know whether I was glad or disappointed that he made it. If he hadn't made it, it would serve as justification for my decision not to go, if I didn't. Everything I saw was getting processed (I told myself) and ultimately I would make a decision.

I saw the shortboard girl come in after only about ten minutes, and she took her leash off, so I thought she was deciding to come in because it was too big. But then I lost sight of her, so I don't know if she did.

All along the boardwalk surfers were making calculations. Are you going in? Yeah, considering it. Did you paddle out? How was it?

I think I was deeply influenced by overhearing two of those I consider the best women surfers at our beach say, No, they weren't going out today. Too big for me, one said. She's much much better than I am. I just want to have a nice relaxing day, not get worked, said the other. She's even more better than me.

By anyone's calculations many if not most of the waves were overhead. I could have handled the smaller ones. Getting out would have been a bitch but I would have made it.

In the end I made a (in)decision not to go. I'd spent an hour and a half hanging out. I had work to do and a date with a friend later.

I'd just experienced, in my mind, every aspect of today's potential surf experience, from the getting hammered getting out to the trying to pick manageable waves to going over the falls to spending 15 minutes getting back out to pushing myself to try harder to wiping out again to maybe getting up on a smaller wave and struggling out again to the blessed delicious satisfied feeling of exhaustion I'd have by nine o'clock that night after such a session and the marvelous feeling of accomplishment I'd get for trying on the biggest day of my life so far. And I just did not feel like doing it.

But next time I will go.

The next day the waves were 4 to 5, and what a difference it makes to know you can handle the biggest waves, not just the smallest ones. There was no fear or indecision. I went for the bigger waves. I got compliments on my surfing. I made all my drops and got up on every wave; it might have been downhill from there, but at least I got that part right on bigger waves, which is a major accomplishment for me.

When Surfline says "good" and means it

2009-11-04T22:12:00.000-08:00

Today was that rarest of occurences: Surfline actually rated our waves as Good. We almost never get Good. The best we usually get is Fair. And the occasions when it's good are usually over 6 feet, limiting the crowd to experts.

Today was both Good and 4 feet.

The result was that this midmorning November Wednesday was soon as crowded as a summer weekend. I mean bumper to bumper. I mean a board every two feet. I mean people sitting not only on either side of you but inside in front of you.

I could have gone down the beach a ways from the main peak where it would, eventually, get less crowded. But I decided not to. I decided to join the fray.

I've done that enjoyably on small days. Today wasn't completely small; there were some head high sets coming in. But by now I'm good enough at surfing, and surfing in crowds, that this didn't faze me. I can turn, I can (mostly) get out of people's ways just as well as they can out of mine.

So I decided to make the crowd part of the challenge and the fun. It wouldn't have worked if the waves were any bigger, but it worked.

I got waves, I got up and riding, more than most people I saw; and I was having fun. Now, were there waves I would have gone for, but for someone else going for them? Absolutely. Were there waves I missed, having to pull off, that I would have gotten and enjoyed were it less crowded? Yes.

Were there waves I got that no one else got? Yes. That was mostly by going for the smaller ones. That was my tactic; I might have gotten smaller waves, but I got more waves.

I would have been fine on the bigger ones, if there hadn't been so many other people out. After a while I started wishing I could have gone on the bigger ones, but not so much that I was willing to try it.

I was where the very best surfers were, the ones who sense a big set coming before you can even see it and start maneuvering. They didn't bother even paddling for the smaller waves I went for. But when I saw them paddling out and around me, I knew they saw what they had been waiting for. And I could have paddled into position as well, and tried for them, but these were the guys who catch what they paddle for, and they know how to position themselves and would have been flying down the line by the time I got up. Damn. I've got to become one of these guys. Or women. One of them is a woman and she was having a fine flying time on head high sets.

I enjoyed myself immensely today and congratulated myself on the challenge of holding my own and getting my waves in the crowd. It actually did turn out to be part of the fun.

And then just as I was getting a bit overconfident, and trying for some waves that were a bit bigger...

On a silly wipeout where I didn't get the wave for I know not what reason, I came up and the board somehow smacked me hard in the jaw.

It's the noise that's so unnerving, the noise your board makes when it hits you in the head or the jaw, isn't it? The noise is almost worse than the impact. And once you hear that noise, what's the first thing you do? Check for blood, that's what.

There was blood. It was from my teeth being driven into my tongue. The session was over. It had been two great hours. A "good" day indeed.

But I checked that my teeth were still in my mouth, and the blood wasn't a lot, so I decided I would be OK. Well, I'm not. The pain subsided some but my teeth hurt so much from the board slamming against them I can't eat. Turns out my teeth have small fractures, there may be nerve damage, and I'm told if I don't get better in a week I will need root canal on my front four bottom teeth.

It's just bad luck, that's all, I can't blame the crowds or anybody else. I haven't had any surf mishaps in well over a year, maybe more, and these things happen to everybody.

"How was it?"

2009-11-03T22:10:00.001-08:00

Didja ever ask that question to someone coming out of the water as you're getting in? Do you? And if so why and how do you use that information?

I usually ask whenever and whomever I can, but then it's difficult to judge how much weight to give to their response. It adds to what you already know from your visual impressions, info about wind direction, etc. Does it make the difference between a go and a no go? After all, that person is a random surfer, not you; may be a better or much worse surfer, and so the reasons why "it" was good or not may have more to do with him than you.

Today I had a feeling that things would not work out so well (saw whitecaps from my window, the wind was west) but it was a sunny warm day and I haven't surfed in forever (I just came back from Omaha for crap's sake) and I just wanted to go. So I put my suit on and on the way to the waves met a random surfer and asked the question.

His response: Not too good.

I decided to disregard that and think for myself.

Turns out, he was right.

The waves were sideshore and doubling up and few were catching them even though a lot of us were in the water.

It was a one-wave day for me; the kind where you are lucky to get one good ride and when you do, you might as well go in.

Shoulda listened to the guy.

Schadenfreude

2009-10-26T21:52:00.000-07:00

I've been accused somewhere on this blog of Schadenfreude, that is, taking pleasure in the misfortunes of others. I don't see it that way.

Consider how many years I've had this blog, and correspondingly how long it has taken me to get to the point of any semblance of surfing, let alone proficiency, and how difficult it has been. Even if I did engage in some Schadenfreude, I could be forgiven.

So, on a day like today, a challenging closeout day, when I was at first the only one out, then was joined by two others, and when I was the only one getting up and getting rides at all (albeit not very long ones) and they weren't, it is certainly understandable that I would feel proud of myself and that in some way that feeling of pride depends on their not getting rides.

In other words, after having been the worst surfer every time out, for years, let me enjoy being the best whenever I can.

I did it this time

2009-10-25T21:44:00.000-07:00

Today was another bigger wave day, five feet, and I made it my goal not to hang back but to take off later.

I did it. And it wasn't so bad. At first I got worked. Then I got up to my feet. Then I got a ride.

It wasn't perfect, but at least I learned something. As I thought, the only cure for being scared and taking off too early is (being scared and) taking off later and taking the consequences.

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

2009-10-19T20:14:00.000-07:00

Today was about as good as a session gets.

The sun was out. The wind was calm and it was warm. No one needed a hood.

Miracle of miracles, no wind in the afternoon. I got out late, after having an unusually good day so far. I timed it right.

The waves were little.

Crowd was small and friendly.

I got lots of rides. People hooted. Even though it wasn't challenging, I felt like I was actually learning some skills. Like, I could feel the rails grabbing the waves. I could feel myself controlling them. I knew where they were. Usually I don't think about such things. I thought, inside rail, outside rail, and knew what I was doing with them.

I was able to get up low and stay low, something that's usually difficult for me, but it makes a big difference when waves are small.

I got that feeling I've talked about before, when time seems to be suspended, at least for a couple of seconds. When that happens me and the wave are perfectly in synch.

I was actually smiling at strangers and they were smiling back. No gray faces today, only sunny ones.

To finish it off, there was a gorgeous sunset. It was my first sunset session in many many months. There is nothing so good as watching the sun set from the water, unless it's watching it after a spectacular session. I stayed out as long as I could still see.

Perfect day, perfect surf, perfect sunset, a man waiting at home to make me dinner, perfect night. The kind of day that gives you the strength to go on.

Actually, there's no secret to what causes such a good surf session. And I'm sure most of you know this. It's not the sun or the waves or the wind or the tide (not only). It's whether you had sex before your session. There is a 100% correlation between sex and good surfing. I have never known an exception. But that's no secret, right, people?

Not Enough Balls in the Water

2009-10-18T19:48:00.000-07:00

Has it really been a month since I posted? Sorry about that. There have been some more small wave sessions I didn't write about. I've travelled, been busy.

And today I was woken up by waves.

They weren't small. The wave report said up to one foot overhead. That was an exaggeration, but they were a good five feet. OK, I'm not scared of that anymore. And the wind was in the right direction, which should have made things easier.

But the wind was blowing 25 kts, which is, I don't know what in MPH, but a lot. That changes everything.

I went out in my spiffy new 4/3 wetsuit for the first time, and was warm enough (though I cannot agree that zipless suits are warmer than zippered, and are much harder to get out of). But I didn't put on the hood, and the wind was enough to freeze my ears. The day was gray, the faces of the surfers were gray. Not much smiling or talking.

Because of the wind the waves were breaking hard and steep---you know, when they send up that much spray, it's not going to be easy.

I kept hanging back because of I was afraid of the steep drop (not the size so much) and as a result guess what---I missed just about every wave. One I wasn't early for I got worked on, but not so badly. Yet I still just kept hanging back.

Late in the session I saw D., Master Surfer, who told me: Take Off Late, As Late As Possible. And proved it by getting a nice, long, fast ride. He was right, of course. Yet I couldn't work up the nerve.

I know the only cure for taking off too early is to take off late and take the consequences. Chances are they won't be as bad as I think. Once I learn that, I will be fine. And I don't know why I couldn't do that today. It makes absolutely so sense to come out on a freezing, howling wind, rainy day---and then just sit in the water getting nothing. It takes balls (or should I say ovaries) to come out on a day like that but it takes more balls to make coming out worth it. I didn't have mine in working order today.

All I can say is, I wasn't the only wuss in the water. The great majority of my fellow surfers (except for D.) weren't catching any waves either. I guess we all lacked ovaries.

Well, partly that, and partly the wind jacking up the waves making it really challenging for most people. I heard later that even those who consider themselves macho men were wiping out.

Vignettes from the last small wave days of summer

2009-09-21T19:57:00.000-07:00

Today's the first day of autumn, or last day of summer, I forget which. Either way, I've closed all the windows in my apartment, because it's getting chilly at night. I'm very aware of the close of the season, and am treasuring the last warm sunny days. Which, typical of summer, have had the tiniest waves; but have been great fun. After all, when the waves are so small, the surfers are crap, and I get to be the best one out.

They blur together. The early morning session where I saw a guy who had dumped me in a most ungentlemanly way (who is normally an excellent surfer) and surfed way, way better than him, getting wave after wave, til he skunked off in defeat. A very congenial session with delightful one-foot waves and north wind, where everybody spoke to everybody and shared party waves. Today's session was largely silent but friendly, and gorgeous. There were only two of us; I had picked my spot and he picked his; and halfway through he moved over to mine because I'd judged the waves better and was getting rides where he was not. Also very satisfying because usually I'm assuming everyone else knows more than I do about surfing, that they're right and I'm wrong, and that is no longer always true. I had a great time today, getting most of my drops perfect.

And yesterday...guess what, I ran into Barney again for the first time in over a year! Wow, the last time I can easily find when I wrote about him is exactly three years ago, on Sept. 18, 2006! I was unabashedly delighted to see him. He is still exactly the same, a big overgrown nerd even older than me, with a silly grin and a silly hat. I thought he'd given up surfing but he's still delighting in trying to learn at fifty-something. I didn't care that everyone else was giving him stinkeye, we greeted each other like old friends and as if a year or so hadn't passed. He's not much better at surfing and maybe never will be; but he did stand up and get rides. It just takes him centuries to get up, like it used to take me, but he clearly doesn't mind. (I was very conscious and proud of snapping up today and practiced doing it earlier than usual, even too early in some cases.) He's still got the same crappy board (people make fun of it behind his back) and just seems happy as pie to have it. It's very comforting that in a world of change and strife Barney is still the same. He seems not to have aged at all and hasn't lost either his kookiness or his enthusiasm.

Oh, one small thing. Apparently I almost died today. I wiped out, did an underwater somersault and lost my board. An eyewitness said the board shot straight up into the air and came straight back down about an inch from my head. He was having visions of blood and emergency rooms, and then I rose up smiling. I didn't know I was an inch away from death until he told me, and then I'd rather have not known. Just a reminder that death is always a possibility in the midst of life, especially when you least expect it.

Back to the small waves

2009-08-31T19:52:00.000-07:00

Today I got up at a record hour, thinking the wind would be north (it was) and the waves would be the perfect size for me. Actually, the wind held all day, so I needn't have bothered going to bed so early, but the waves were the size I anticipated, about two and a half feet.

I was out in a crowd at the jetty and held my own, getting my share of waves and rides. I did better, I noted, than some of the guys who think they're hot shit but seemed to have lost it, at least for today. You know who you are.

But enough about them. It was fun, a good day for me by any measure.

And yet:

I kept thinking about yesterday and how different it was and how, in some ways, it was more fun or different, maybe better fun.

Because at least I was totally focused on surfing. I wasn't thinking about whether I should do my laundry later on or not. My mind did not wander to think about various problems in my life. There weren't lulls, there wasn't time, I had to stay alert. I didn't even listen to music, which I usually do when I'm surfing. And though I had fun today, it was pretty predictable, not challenging fun.

In which I take off on the biggest wave of my life---and...

2009-08-30T19:16:00.000-07:00

A day after the humongous waves of Hurricane Danny, I expected things to have quieted down a lot, but they really haven't. There are still some five to six foot waves out there, I judge by watching people ride them. But I decide to go in anyway.

Getting out isn't easy. After 15-20 minutes of trying and getting pushed back, in full view of the boardwalk peanut gallery of course, I decide to try going out by the jetty, as D. taught me long ago. (I consider the surfer's maxim, If you have this much trouble making it out you shouldn't be out, but I reject that idea.) I pick a guy with a board the same size as mine, a guy I am sure knows what he is doing, and decide to just do what he does. Mostly what he does is wait for a lull, same as everyone else. (Same as J., an arrogant King-of-the-Beach type shortboarder---I note with satisfaction that he has to wait just like the rest of us.) Finally there is a lull, the guy jumps on his board---but I am several yards behind him and not as fast and don't quite make it like he does. Well, then I see another longboard guy and follow that one. Basically, I start paddling when everyone else does---duh, when we all see the lull. And I make it.

Once out, I move over where the less experienced surfers are, and wait for a suitable wave. There aren't really any small ones coming through, so if I don't go for a big one, I won't get anything. One comes by that I'm in position for, I paddle.

Whoa! What is this thing I have never experienced before---a big drop at about a 45 degree angle! I mean, we talk about making the drop on the small waves I am so used to, but it's hardly a drop, you never even notice it. This; this is a real drop. I have caught the wave perfectly and I know it but then I'm faced with that slide down the slope and it scares me. It scares me enough that I don't try to get up. I think my nose is going to go down and I focus on just holding on to my board. Then, of course, my nose goes down, and I'm tumbled. Also held down a second longer than I'm used to, not a big deal, but I note it.

I think that if I had stood up right away I would have been OK. If I had treated that five to six foot wave as a three footer, I would have made it. Really, it's the same thing (only much steeper).

I am cheered by the fact that I tried and made the wave. I am pushing my limits today, and it feels fine, really.

I didn't come all the way out here not to try for a wave.

The next wave I get, I actually get to my feet, but then fall immediately. I am cheered to have gotten to my feet, to have made progress from getting out to taking off to getting up, however briefly.

Once I'm in, it seems like an hour has passed, but an hour that equals two hours on easy waves. Two waves, two slightly long holdowns, not counting the scratch on my face from where my board hit me on the way out which I don't even notice til someone says later, Your face is bleeding. (Only a tiny bit.) Six foot waves. Even five is great for me.

I decide to rest while I debate going out again. But I don't. I am intact and stoked, and that feels good to me. It was all more challenging than scary.

Later, I realize it was strangely fun. Not the fun of riding a wave fun, but the fun of trying something hard and proving to yourself you can do it (or will someday soon) fun. The fun of not getting killed.

And something else. I think of the phrase "adrenaline junkie." Not that I am one, but a lot of surfers are, or at least I've heard that phrase used to describe why people surf. On two foot waves, it's pretty hard to experience a rush of adrenaline, no matter how fun they are. Maybe adrenaline is several parts fear, several parts risk, combined into a relief cocktail at the end (if you survive). Well, I got the fear and risk part today (if not the riding the wave part). And it is a whole different experience than my usual surf session. I could maybe start to like it.

Big wave day (for me)

2009-08-23T19:14:00.000-07:00

Today, one day post-the-first-hurricane-wave-day-of-the-season, I saw my former friend on the boardwalk, the one who's only been surfing a couple of years but we're at the same level, and she said the waves were too big for her. From the boardwalk, they looked about five feet at most.

Usually, if they're too big for her, it's a pretty sure thing they're too big for me. Usually, I'd have turned around and gone in. But I didn't.

I went out, and my very first wave I caught and rode! It surprised the hell out of me, but I remember being so pleased and thinking, Oh, I've made so much progress that these waves no longer seem big. Because they didn't. I also enjoyed the greater power of the bigger wave.

So I got a lot more, and was really comfortable and confident. It's the first time I've felt that way in such big (for me) waves. All in all a hellaciously fun day.

Shortboard ride!

2009-08-17T19:42:00.001-07:00

Finally, it's 90 degrees and feels like summer...finally. I am really trying to enjoy it. Long story short, this summer has just been unbearably stressful, full of dead ends, disappointment, and frustration (at least out of the water). To give you just one example, everything I own and rely on is now broken and nonfunctional: my computer, my printer, my backup computer, my stereo, my television, my DVD player, and my car. What are the odds of all these things breaking down at once? All needing replacement or major work and major $$$$? Oh yeah, and my shoulder. It needs major surgery to fix the pain I've had for nine months now.

What a difference from last summer, if you read a back a year. I can't imagine ever being that happy again. I can't see how I'll ever dig out of the current roadblock.

But enough of that. Because this is really a happy post. Yes.

Today I got my first ride on a shortboard!

It's not mine, I borrowed it. I think it's 6-2. The waves were choppy small crap. I haven't surfed for nearly two weeks. I was at the point of "just wanting to go in the water," really missing surfing, but also wondering (now that I know what's wrong with my shoulder) if it was worth paddling for virtually nothing.

I hadn't even brought my board to the beach, that's how flat it's been. My friend's board was there. I thought, what the hell. I expected nothing. I went in on a shortboard. It's only the second time I've ever tried one.

Well, it wasn't so hard to balance and paddle, and it wasn't so hard to catch the little sections of the knee high waves. I could catch a bunch. The problem, as I discovered the first time I tried a shortboard, is standing up. I already know it has to be fast, way faster than on a longboard. Today I also figured out that I need to catch the waves (at least these waves) way later than on a longboard.

There really is no time on a shortboard to think whether you have a stable platform for standing up; you just have to do it, I think, and take your chances.

Most of the times that I did that, I fell immediately. But at least I was getting to my feet, which exceeded my expectations for the session. I also realized that there really is great value and pleasure in "just getting in the water" on a board when you haven't been in for weeks, and it's 90 degrees and sunny. I was surprised at how much I was enjoying myself on shitty waves without getting rides.

Then somehow I got up and got one.

It didn't last long, but then no one was getting long rides today. I was on my feet, on a shortboard, and I went somewhere without falling.

My second time.

Wow, maybe some of the hardwon skills I've gotten on the longboard really do transfer. Wouldn't that be fun.

It's amazing how light the little board feels, how free I feel using it, how I am not afraid of getting clunked on the head with it (although of course I still could). It feels like nothing at all between me and the waves. I think I could really start to like it.

Great crowd session

2009-08-01T21:45:00.000-07:00

This morning I had my best summer crowd session ever.

What a day, after what has seemed like endless rain: blue sky, sunshine, hot, offshore wind.

2 foot waves, and I had fun despite the fact that there were probably 50 people in the water. In fact, I was one of the few people actually catching waves and riding, and when I realized that, my confidence just grew.

Generally I hate summer weekend sessions because of the crowded lineup. But today, I was over at the second peak as usual (the first reserved for experts, locals, or both) and surrounded by weekend and beginner surfers who didn't know what they were doing. So I didn't worry about people taking my waves, because they didn't know how; I just went for as many waves as I could.

And I was up and riding, as long as possible anyway on the small closeout waves. It felt good to be the star surfer. It also felt good to be out surrounded by female surfers and I felt like calling out "Girl Wave!" as we all went on the same one. (We actually didn't, but the girls were definitely the best surfers out today.)

No longer a kook

2009-07-28T18:07:00.000-07:00

Update after six years of surfing:

I saw my former friend, always expert surfer, and sometime surf coach W. on the beach today, and he declared that I am officially no longer a kook.

Coming from him, that's high praise.

"You know what you're doing. There's lots of people way kookier than you."

I have been upgraded to make room for the next generation of kooks.

D. said that the next step up from Kook is Gremmie, so that's my new status. Just call me Grandma Gremmie.

Recalibrating the aggresso-meter

2009-07-22T19:08:00.000-07:00

Just because you live on the beach doesn't mean you don't need to get away sometimes! To another beach, of course...

I was in need of some mothering, the reason for the roadtrip mentioned in my previous post, an eight hour trip. I was headed to visit my friend who lives on the shore of Lake Ontario. Talk about one cool grandma...(after all I'm not really a grandma yet and she is)...I will write about her sometime, she's a true inspiration and role model for any middle-aged woman who isn't sure how to handle getting old.

So I hung out in her teeny town which is as far north as you can go before getting to Canada, and swam in Lake Ontario, where I had the whole damn lake to myself (as least as far as I could see).

And then I got back to my beach (there really isn't anything deserving of the name beach on Lake Ontario, a sad disappointment) and, more importantly, to the water. And it was crowded. Packed.

It wasn't easy to recalibrate from the solitude of Lake Ontario to the packed lineup. In fact I wasn't sure I even wanted to.

There seemed to be a lot of aggression going on in the water today; either there was more than usual or I was more sensitive to it than usual because of having been away. Most of the people out were men and the water was seething with testosterone. Did I mention I'd spent the past week entirely in female company?

The waves weren't big or beyond my ability and I had to give myself a stiff talking to, about how I needed to recalibrate my aggresso-meter now that I was back in the city if I wanted to get any waves. It's hard to be aggressive when you're wearing a bikini and worrying about various things hanging out. Know what I mean? I've seen some things hanging out that I never wanted to see and hope never to see again, and it ain't pretty. Like how do you tell a female friend that her tampon string is hanging out and how do you ever look at her again without seeing that image? But enough said.

I was feeling so intimidated that when I saw a friendly female surfer paddle out I nearly said something like, "Watch out, there's a lot of testosterone out here."

But then I watched her paddle out right into the thick of the lineup, tiny string bikini and all, take her place amidst the boys and surf just as aggressively (or perhaps I should say confidently) as any of them, get wave after wave and just kill it. (And nothing hung out.)

Let's hear it for estrogen. After that my aggresso-meter was successfully recalibrated, I stopped thinking silly things about women not being as aggressive as men, and I did fine.

God Bless GPS: Or, The OTHER great summer pleasure

2009-07-18T18:29:00.000-07:00

I am not surfing this weekend, though it's midsummer and midsummer surfing is one of life's great pleasures. But summer is brief and it's time to discover the OTHER great summer pleasure: the roadtrip. Yeah!

If there's anything better than setting off on a roadtrip, it's setting off on a roadtrip with GPS. I truly think this is one of the greatest inventions in the history of humankind. You can now truly go anywhere without planning in advance and can never get lost (for very long). Roadtrip perfected.

I like going places, but I just like driving in and of itself. Of course, the essential ingredient of a great summer drive is the soundtrack. And some of life's best moments are when road and music coalesce into an experience which transcends either of them by themselves. Great drives stay with you forever and are to be treasured. I've had quite a few and a couple already this summer.

Like the late-night, exhausted-from-sun-and-surfing drive from Santa Cruz to a little town I'd never heard of just outside of it, though a forest or what looked like one by the light of the moon, on a thrilingly winding and deserted road, the air cool and fragrant, listening to a CD I was hearing for the first time: Music for Drella by John Cale. Yeah, an old one but new to me, and with the pine trees and the moon it absolutely blew me away, it was so suited to the night and the whole day that had passed before it. I was going there to either sleep with or not sleep with a man who lived over a bar in this little town. The bar was something out of the 1950s movie and as far from hipster Santa Cruz as could be and I fell in love with it immediately. I ended up not sleeping with the man who lived above the bar with his dog and think it was the right decision even though I had and have decided for all practical purposes that at my age the word "No" should have no part in my vocabulary. And I will never say it again.

Or the drive this week that took me straight through a hailstorm so fierce that I had to pull off the road while hailstones exploded my car with such intensity and such noise that I feared they'd shatter the windshield; it was kind of like being inside an MRI magnified by a thousand and by fear. The rain came down in sheets and made me feel like the car was sliding away while it was parked and I could see nothing but slippery whiteness outside. And then it stopped and the sun came out and I started to drive again, looking for a rainbow and finding one, which makes any drive special. And the sky took on the hue that only comes after a violent storm, and the grass turned that extraterrestrial green of full summer, and there was haze on the river that ran alongside the road, and I said: I must remember this light, these colors, because it was like seeing a painting. And I had just gotten a Nina Simone CD and was listening to it, and it was a compilation of songs that had been recorded over many years but were all new to me, and one in particular I liked so much I played eight times in a row, because it was the perfect music for a day that had been pelted by a storm and washed clean and pure; nothing suited it like that voice. And I was glad to be on the road, many hours away from the ocean, headed in fact for Lake Ontario where there are no waves.

You Know It's Summer When...

2009-07-08T18:58:00.000-07:00

It's the middle of the week, middle of the day, waves are teeny-tiny, and there's still fifteen people out.

But what a gorgeous day. There hasn't been a nice, mellow, sunny day like this in forever. At least it seems like I've been waiting for it all year; I have. The kind of day when the water's just the right temperature in relation to the air, and you don't want to get out of the water, and then you don't want to get off the beach.

With all the rain we've had, it's the first great summer weekday. And everyone who knows, knows weekdays are the best.

P.S. There is the most beautiful full moon out tonight over the water. It's light enough to surf by, if you wanted to.

Applause!

2009-06-28T17:48:00.000-07:00

This morning, wonderful things happened:

I went surfing the first time this year without a wetsuit, woo-hoo!

Perhaps as a result of shedding the suit, I surfed great.

I caught waves perfectly. One was so perfect, and lasted so long, and was so well executed, that one of the locals (a friend, all around good guy, and experienced surfer) hooted for me as I exited the wave. He's seen and heard my struggles to learn for years.

"You're really getting good," he said.

"Nice drops."

Two words I thought I'd never hear applied to me!

S.I.F.A.

2009-06-20T20:10:00.000-07:00

Back at home, what a relief. Surfing Is Fun Again.

I had a really good day today (thanks to the good waves). Lots of rides without effort, and that feeling of time standing still.

California coastline

2009-06-15T19:59:00.000-07:00

Just looking at the waves at Ocean Beach today made my bones hurt.

They weren't measurably worse than yesterday's, perhaps, but now it was a grey cool day with nobody out and that made them look worse.

Plus I was plain worn out by so much surfing.

So I decided to take a drive down the Coast. I'm glad I did. The scenery was gorgeous. My goal was to find the Rockaway Beach in California, and I sort of did, it's hard to tell---I didn't see the sign. Well, I drove by it anyway. Linda Mar was flat and didn't impress me. There was another break, I think it was called Montero, that looked nice. If I'd had the energy and still had the board I would've gone in.

Mavericks was FLAT. FLAT FLAT FLAT! What's with that? I coulda gone in with a board and then I could truthfully say I surfed Mavericks, ha ha, it was that flat. I thought Mavericks was never flat. I would have enjoyed seeing that famous wave, except there were no waves.

Ocean Beach

2009-06-14T18:04:00.000-07:00

I had some trepidation about trying to surf Ocean Beach, given what I'd read about it. And last time I was in San Francisco it was a grey, rainy, windy day with blown out slop and no one out on a Sunday afternoon.

But today the stars (sun/wind/tides) all aligned. I got up early, checked the cams, rented a board, and went. The waves were two to three feet, there was no wind, the sun was out and so were the surfers. All I could get was a softtop board a foot shorter than I like, but that would be OK, I thought.

I later found out that that is the only place in the area that rents boards, because, the other shop told me, the surf is usually big and rough and they have had to do too many rescues.

The waves were a lot more powerful and harder to catch than they looked, the board was not familiar, and it took me a lot of tries/wipeouts before I caught any, and a lot more before I got to my feet. But then I did. Then I wiped out again. I was alternating between: I'm just like a beginner, I might as well never have surfed before, I can't get anything---and: Catching a wave, getting up (though not often popping, my arms are so exhausted from the last few days) and actually riding a San Francisco wave. Five times.

Today it was the Aqua Board guy. He was the one catching all the waves and having all the fun. He actually smiled and said to me after one ride, "That was one of the best waves I've ever had." I said I hadn't had any yet, and he said what I had just been thinking: "It's hard to know where to sit today. You are either too far out or too far in." And that simple acknowledgment that it wasn't just me seemed to make all the difference---that and watching him and going where and when he went.

Though the paddle outs were short and easy and I only had to turtle once, there was a lot of strong current. I wiped out pearling quite a few times, other times wiped out right after standing up. It took strength to hang on to the board through all the wipeouts. What I am saying is, though I cannot say quite why, I don't think I have ever, ever been as exhausted after a surf session as I was after two hours at Ocean Beach this morning. I was ready for a nap at two p.m. All I could do was lie in the sun for an hour or so. And I'm not sure I want to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.

And like yesterday, the surf session was only part of the adventure. The rest of the fun entailed me having been left---dripping wet, without so much as a towel, a bottle of water, sunscreen, even one cent of cash to buy lunch, my phone, my clothes, my shoes, etc.---at the beach in the hot sun by my companion, who evidently didn't see me looking for him and just took off. I might have been sitting in that wetsuit for hours without any way to get off that beach or any idea if he would come back. What a pissy lowdown thing to do to somebody. I'll be generous and say we had a misunderstanding, but even so that doesn't make it OK to dump somebody at a strange beach. Yes, by using my wits I was eventually able to resolve the situation before wetsuit rash, sunstroke or dehydration set in.

Be the guy with the red board

2009-06-12T22:57:00.000-07:00

I spent the afternoon at Capitola, missing waves. There wasn't anything challenging about the waves or the break. But I kept paddling and missing, for a couple hours. Eventually I figured out two things: I was too far forward on this board because it was six inches shorter than my usual board. Second, the only guys getting waves were in one particular spot under the curl. As usual I was off to the shoulder so as not to get in their way. Which meant when we all paddled for waves, they got them and I missed.

And I was willing to accept this. What are the deep-seated psychological reasons why I was willing to accept having travelled across the country in search of waves only, once I got there, to forego said waves just because there were other people who wanted them?

Ah, let's count the reasons. I'm a white female ("the whitest person I ever met" according to my old friend W. who is white himself but not as white as me) of a certain generation before MTV, was raised Catholic, grew up in the Midwest, experienced abuse as a child...all of which translates boringly and predictably into: Someone who puts other people's needs before her own.

And then there was the guy with the red board, who was none of the above I am sure, except white. The guy with the red board was always in the right spot. He'd get ride after ride, then paddle right back out to the right spot.

And at this break as the one yesterday, there was really only one narrow zone for getting rides. A few feet away, and you'd get nothing.

Once again I was reminded of the primal rule of surfing, which is the primal rule of life:

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS BEING TOO AGGRESSIVE.

What was I doing thousands of miles from home out in the middle of the ocean? Did I come there to sit politely and not interfere with other people's fun?

Hell no!

So I started going right where the red board guy went, and paddling for "his" waves, and not caring whether anyone was taking off right beside me or sitting in front of me.

That was the key, two hours into the session, to finally getting waves: Just take them. Be the guy with the red board.

I did notice a lot of people (like last time in Santa Cruz) taking off next to each other, taking off with people right in front of them not caring if they ran them over, doing all that stuff that would get you yelled at in New York, but here it seems to be expected and no one gets upset.

After I got my few waves I was able to get out of the water with a shred of dignity.

Then I found my rental car had a flat tire, which was a whole nother adventure. If you happen to be on the West coast, do not rent from Fox Rent a Car, folks.

But that led to my getting my board back to the shop three hours late, which got me to the surf shop after dark, to find quite an interesting scene in the parking lot.

There was a half naked surf instructor, around my age and quite good looking (and not all of them are) and five tall blond men, very young and good looking, replaying the waves for each other over and over, smoking and drinking. You may have heard this phrase before, it's almost a cliche, but in this case it was quite literally true: They were dripping with stoke.

Turned out the guys were from Denmark and probably had never surfed before. The surf instructor offered them all a place to stay at his house, any time. We talked a little as I was returning the board and even glassy eyed with pot and stoke he was still smarter and more interesting than most surf instructors I've encountered. I got his number and an invite to stay at his place, too. I was leaving from San Francisco the next day or I might have called him up. Next time.

Wonder what happens when all the students he's given this offer to show up at his door at once?

Oh yeah, and this encounter in the Cowells parking lot was the first time in my life I've ever been addressed as "dude," which makes me smile every time I think of it.