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Yeah, saw that dude/purple fish heading out as I was coming in this morning at VFW though, so different guy I guess.Yeah that’s him
u talking bout Arni? hes still around?Sketchy, shallow takeoff in front of Mussel-clad rocks. Usually a large and aggressive pack ruled by an old-school, eggy breed of local, although a goofy-footed goth hairdresser sits at the top. Every set someone gets pitched from the lip.
Party Paul aka Das Carter.u talking bout Arni? hes still around?
1. Sunday, marine forecast from National Weather Service looked good.
2. Sunday called Friend #1, said I'd be there. He said, "see you there."
3. Showed up, tapped on kitchen window, no reply, suited up, started walking to beach, see Friend #1, mention that I saw a buoy report at 8 ft, 18 seconds
4. Look, sketch out possible channel, acknowledge size and currents, he jogs back to house, I head out
5. 4th in the water and 1st one out.....a few seconds later see the others were out before be, just hidden by the swell, so 6th out and much further south than I thought I would be. Tiring paddle. Am feeling lack of good surf in October, general summer malaise, and lack of personal discipline to overcome said exercise malaise.
6. paddle north to meet up with Friend #1 who just gets out without the drift aspect
7. Some waves, then I get cleaned up and when I get back out, am right back where I first got out, long paddle north.
8. Pick up what turns out to be my wave of the day, starts with a bit of panic as i dropped, thought I was too late, but inside fin/rail engage, and the clean swell/water help, and solid bottom turn, then steep wall, pet the cat, and done. Short and probably less nifty to others than myself, but c'est la vie.
9. Am able to sneak outside due to magnificent duckdive and some stamina (where did that come from, panic induced adrenalin surge?) for the sprint past the next wave. Brag to Friend #1 of my lucky wave selection and quick hustle.
10. Big set, I go to the north of it, Friend #1 is clobbered. His leash breaks, but the board pops up and somehow doesn't get pushed in. He gets to, waives me off, and goes in.
11. Last wave for me proves to be all drop as I can get around the section. Next wave is bigger and breaks much further out, so I expect to belly in on an crumbly mess of stew that is wedging towards me, sort of building. Hits me, and it is a bronco ride that bucks me off. Next wave is more tractable wall of soup, and it is a treat until I suddenly pearl and manage to fill the wetsuit with lots of seawater down my neck.
12. Back at home, Sweetie-pie goes, "You're smiling......."
Is your board red? I might have seen you. I don't see too many twinies around these days.Rode the 7'2 twin. Rides like a Lincoln Continental. Meh
Yep. Now I feel nakid.Is your board red? I might have seen you. I don't see too many twinies around these days.
I see an older gentleman all the time on a giant red Maurice Cole twin. Sits way outside and hangs with a Mavs guy that rides a big green Andreini at OB. Is THAT you?Yep. Now I feel nakid.
Jesusfuckingchrist- 'older gentleman' if I knew someone even thought of me as an older gentleman I would burn the living fck out of them until... bitter old guy rant over.I see an older gentleman all the time on a giant red Maurice Cole twin. Sits way outside and hangs with a Mavs guy that rides a big green Andreini at OB. Is THAT you?
Paul? Damn, wondering where he's been. I used to talk to Paul ALL THE TIME. Fortunately or unfortunatelty, I don't see him anymore now that I live on Lawton instead of Judah.Jesusfuckingchrist- 'older gentleman' if I knew someone even thought of me as an older gentleman I would burn the living fck out of them until... bitter old guy rant over.
Nope, mine is a red Album Ledge. Don't ride it all that often cuz it is kinda dull. I've been called out on my purple Parmy more often than not. I do have a green Anndrieni Vaquero only 7' though.
I do hangout with the old talkative 70ish local who rides a SUP. He was out all the time until this past couple of years going through chemo and the removal of his stomach. Lost a lot of weight and a bit of his stoke but was out the other day and still hunts the outside sets.
Was this somewhere north of us? Today?1. Sunday, marine forecast from National Weather Service looked good.
2. Sunday called Friend #1, said I'd be there. He said, "see you there."
3. Showed up, tapped on kitchen window, no reply, suited up, started walking to beach, see Friend #1, mention that I saw a buoy report at 8 ft, 18 seconds
4. Look, sketch out possible channel, acknowledge size and currents, he jogs back to house, I head out
5. 4th in the water and 1st one out.....a few seconds later see the others were out before me, just hidden by the swell, so 6th out and much further south than I thought I would be. Tiring paddle. Am feeling lack of good surf in October, general summer malaise, and lack of personal discipline to overcome said exercise malaise.
6. paddle north to meet up with Friend #1 who just gets out without the drift aspect
7. Some waves, then I get cleaned up and when I get back out, am right back where I first got out, long paddle north.
8. Pick up what turns out to be my wave of the day, starts with a bit of panic as i dropped, thought I was too late, but inside fin/rail engage, and the clean swell/water help, and solid bottom turn, then steep wall, pet the cat, and done. Short and probably less nifty to others than myself, but c'est la vie.
9. Am able to sneak outside due to magnificent duckdive and some stamina (where did that come from, panic induced adrenalin surge or post-good wave 'stock'?) for the sprint past the next wave. Brag to Friend #1 of my lucky wave selection and quick hustle.
10. Big set, I go to the north of it, Friend #1 is clobbered. His leash breaks, but the board pops up and somehow doesn't get pushed in. He gets to, waives me off, and goes in.
11. Last wave for me proves to be all drop as I can't get around the section. Next wave is bigger and breaks much further out, so I expect to belly in on an crumbly mess of stew that is wedging towards me, sort of building. Hits me, and it is a bronco ride that bucks me off. Next wave is more tractable wall of soup, and it is a treat until I suddenly pearl and manage to fill the wetsuit with lots of seawater down my neck.
12. Back at home, Sweetie-pie goes, "You're smiling......."
Sorry to overestimate your chivalry.Jesusfuckingchrist- 'older gentleman' if I knew someone even thought of me as an older gentleman I would burn the living fck out of them until... bitter old guy rant over.
You are not the first.Sorry to overestimate your chivalry.
I do hangout with the old talkative 70ish local who rides a SUP. He was out all the time until this past couple of years going through chemo and the removal of his stomach. Lost a lot of weight and a bit of his stoke but was out the other day and still hunts the outside sets.
Odds are good. He talks to everyone endlessly.I think I talked with that guy once, briefly.