Golden-coast.com
My Christmas Surf Odyssey
Some time
during October or November, my longtime surf broheme, SA informed me that he
and his family would be vacationing in San Diego
for a good 10 day stretch starting the day after Christmas. For years and years, he'd told me about one Christmas he'd spent there and the insane
for a good 10 day stretch starting the day after Christmas. For years and years, he'd told me about one Christmas he'd spent there and the insane
waves
he'd scored. Well, this year he was actually pulling the return trip
(ten years on) and invited me to join him (unbeknownst to his wife and two small
children.)
Well, as things were unravelling badly on the home front for me (again), I
decided in November to make this trip happen. Hell, I wouldn't
have
a whole lot of family obligations (or any obligations for that matter, with a week off from work) so what
better way to spend my time than to
surf my
way down to San Diego from Santa Cruz? And as luck would have it, when
I noticed that my favorite rock band the Mother Hips would be playing
a rare New Year's Eve event in SD, the wheels were set in motion.
During surf sessions in the weeks leading up to this trip I would plot all my stops (Carmel
Big Sur, Santa Barbara, San Diego and hopefully K-38) and play out
this epic trip in my mind's eye. During these manic moments, I put
together what would come
to by known as My Blue Christmas -- Carmel to Calfia. (Ed note: we changed the destination to Calafia - the southernmost spot surfed on the trip.)
December 18
Alternating between holiday binge paratying and extreme fitness
training, I used this day for the latter. Knowing I'd be surfing a lot
in late
December I've ramped up my training -- swimming more when it's rainy, and working out to a radical new surf fitness program.
Despite
the holiday drinking and carrying on, I've managed to stay in decent
shape at about 192 lbs. Anyways, this day I swam 3400 meters
at
my local pool. Not an incredible distance, but when you are pushing
yourself, going against former Olympians, you get a pretty
good little workout in about 45 minutes. During the afternoon
rain, I went out to the garage and started staging stuff for my trip. I got a call
from
TB and told him about my imminent trip. He was jazzed and said he'd
like to join it for the 2 days scheduled for Baja and then
SD NYE. I told him I'd be stoked to have the company.
December 21
Photo: THWinter Solstice. The swell of the decade slammed the CA coastline this day. Trapped at work, and stormy conditions in SC making it unrideable, all
I could do was be stoked for my So-Cal friends, and amp
up a little higher for my trip. Leggitt called reporting all time
Hammonds,
Schell, Danny and Brenton all sent pictures confirming the reports. All time indeed.
December 23
Met with killer Graham Nash and scored some insane video footage for a new surf DVD project I am working on. Afterwardschecked
all the breaks in Santa Cruz. The hook looked the best, but still not
that enticing, and with 100 guys out, I took a pass.
December 24
Hungover from a family get together. Damnit, I didn't need those two
last Sierra Nevadas. When will I learn? Dorked around the house, packed
a few things...
December 24
Hungover from a family get together. Damnit, I didn't need those two
last Sierra Nevadas. When will I learn? Dorked around the house, packed
a few things...Enjoyed Christmas tree lights. Trying to motivate for a workout.
Update:
Motivated for a quick bike ride when SA called me (on my cellie) and
convinced me to go surfing. We railed to his fav spot
north
of town and did a quick afternoon sesh. Beautiful Christmas eve with
golden light, faint wind and head high plus waves. I saw
a few epic waves pour through. Unfortunately, I could never line myself up in a good takeoff zone and got only a few marginal
rides.
SA on the other hand scored some of the inside racey stuff. Besides the
beautiful setting and vibe, I'd just as soon forget all about this sesh.
Oh well, you win some you lose some.
December 25
After a nice foggy morning at home, packing the truck, battoning down the hatches, and working on The Project w/ PMad, I finally hit the road around 1:00 PM.
Driving through the Redwoods and the rain, I felt a little forlorn as I railed south to Mom's. Ray Barbee's music brightened my mood somewhat as I navigated
some light traffic and rain and realized I was finally on the road!
The waves in Pac Grove indicated the new swell was hitting. I passed on the rocky spots I'd surfed before (tide being a little too high) and opted to hit a spot that my
The waves in Pac Grove indicated the new swell was hitting. I passed on the rocky spots I'd surfed before (tide being a little too high) and opted to hit a spot that my
Mom's neighbor, Dave, took me
to last Christmas. With some south wind it would be off-shore at this
spot. Pulling up at the empty roadside parking area, it was indeed
off-shore
and large! I watched a couple roping rights come in and quickly threw
on my suit. There were only about 7 guys across the whole bay. I
paddled out my 7'2" feeling
pretty confident. I only had
one hour of daylight. For thirty or so minutes I snagged only a few
mediocre waves -- good solid drops but then not much more.
As
the sun set, I paddled hard to the south, trying to get past my truck
to go for some of the pitching lefts I'd seen. Soon, the my truck was
the only car on the road,
and I was the only one out.
I marvelled at how Hawaii'esque this spot is: Incredible
blue tones in the water, off-shore winds and grey heavy clouds all
remind me so much of the
islands. Not sure if it was the
paddling, the newish wetsuit or what, but I noticed I was toasty warm
the whole session. I saw a few incredible waves
break just
outside of me and I paddled a little further out and waited. The first
one I scratched in to heaved and I couldn't stick it and leapt to the
side and went down
the face. Not too bad of a wipeout. Now
15 minutes past sunset. A biggie rolled in and I ditched my
board. I wasn't too rattled even though
I was surfing
alone into the darkness in this fairly sharky area. I remained focused
on the great waves and the fact that nobody was out.
Another set
came in and I spun around and solidly dropped in to an 9
foot face. I felt sure footed and confident and banked a few sweet
turns and milked it to the
inside. The off-shores and mellow inside
section kept me from gaining a lot of speed. Coming in I belly boarded
some shore pound, got tossed and came up in a mess of kelp.
Changing out of my suit in the dark and rain, I felt alive and looked forward to getting to Mom's.
December 26
12:30 - 7:30. Carmel to Santa Barbara via Big Sur. Many hours of big, maxing surf throughout Big Sur. After
awhile I got tired of even looking for surf as it was all the same --
big, nobody out, unruly, gnarley.
Sand Dollar was a good 15'
and all kinds of other mysto reefs were breaking, no telling how
big. I found a spot in San Simeon, and while suiting up watched
two
monster cleanup sets. I balked, got back in my truck and drove w/ my
wetter like a kook for 40 mins to my favorite friend on the Central
Coast... a little
not so secret reef break south of Avila. Took one quick peak
and grabbed my board and charged out at 4:30 P.M. Nabbed a few fun ones
before the sun set. My
7'2" was definitely too much board,
but worked just fine really. Dialed in to a couple great lefts in the
darkness and took it in.
Getting out of the water and
scrambling up and over a little rock reef on the beach at 5:38 I was
stoked. I went to a little restaurant market, tanked a Saporro
grabbed a snack and railed to SB.
Around
7:30 I let myself into Jason's and kicked it. He arrived shortly after
and we cracked a bottle of Kettle One and caught up over a handful of
cocktails, a bunch
of acoustic guitar songs and finally wrapped it up at midnight, spent.
December 27
Double go-out today at not-so-secret SB reef. Pretty damn quality waves
but crowded and my surfing was not on. Bummer. Road my 6'6" single finand
scrapped in to some decent ones alongside the masses and former world
champ, one, Shaun Thomson. Jas and I paddled north and enjoyed
some sizey fast rights where nobody was really surfing.
Cut my hand and foot on the inside on the way in. Doh.
Mild carnage, SB Rocks
Big afternoon nap.
Good
70 mins afternoon/evening go-out. Still not surfing well, though did
get a couple that offered mild redemption for the A.M. sesh.
December 28
South of SB Go-Out. Guest entry: SEC
SC goin' down the line...
December 29
Santa Monica to Cardiff
I would wake up this day, at old friend, college buddy, Gregory Schell's apartment in Santa Monica. We enjoyed some yerba mate, and wheat toast w/ almond butter and honey, before heading south on the 405. Hurtling down the 405 at 75MPH random, uplifting songs blared out of my iTunes and I found myself stoked despite the rough night's sleep.
Pulling off at Via De La Valle in Del Mar we were stoked to be arriving in San Diego County and S&T's place.
SA & Hank Ten, North SD County and loving it
That afternoon Greg, SA and I paddled out
at an uncrowded little spot just south of Swamis. Greg would tell
us this was the training ground for a young Rob Machado. The surf was
playful and it was a beautiful day. I surfed my 6'6" single fin and
dialed in to a few zippy lefts that felt great. The wave of the day
however, would be a long well formed right hander that afforded 3 or 4
off the tops. Greg disappeared and SA and I went on to surf the
afternoon away. Late in the sesh a white haired / white bearded fellow
would paddle by from out of nowhere - clad only in board shorts and an
outstanding sun tan, and as he paddled by, we exchanged pleasantries
and he stated, "It is balmy...Like a perfect summer day!" Had SA not
witnessed this spectacle, I think I would've imagined it all. SA and I
would muse that we just might be imagining this stoney, Christ-like
surfer. "Perhaps you were witnessing your future and seeing
yourself, TW" , Greg would later offer.
That evening, we purchased and cooked some fine fresh fish from Seaside Market and enjoyed a couple Sierra Nevada Celebration Ales, before retiring to the surf DVD, Glass Love.
December 30
Mexico and the Mother Hips
Hip Hank Ten at the Calafia Hotel.
Still happening; running on surf stoke
All good things come to an end
Looking over the Mesa at a sliver of blue sky, between some palms, and clouds all around, I had a realization about my relationship back home... I paddled in darkness, looking for a peak. At this moment, I had an epiphany: I hadn't even really wanted, or needed to surf this evening -- but I needed an outlet, a crutch for the pain I was feeling. Perhaps if I could find some magic in the surf, in the ride, it would dull the pain or give me some relieve. My session didn't end with an epic ride. Instead, unable to really catch a decent wave in, I simply paddled in in the darkness with peaky chocolate waves detonating up on the shore.
I ran back to my truck in the near darkness. Changing at my truck I heard a jogger yell my name. I looked up and say a figure at the picnic tables doing pushups. As the figure approached, I realized it was Jason.
"I know I dreamed you, a sin and a lie, I got my freedom, but I don't
have much time...Faith has been broken, and tears must be cried,
End of the surf streak, outdoor shower streak, and the trip...
The
clean up session. Conditions were a little rough on the paddle out with
a slight onshore wind and a pretty high tide. But like I said this was
the clean up session and things did clean up.
Surf got to
be around 2-3 ft (Hawaiian) with some speedy sections north of C street
and no one else in the water. A two hour session ended with many
fun ones, a couple of snake-o, drop-ins (on my part) and a nice break
through of sunshine to warm us as we got out. Nice. A quick trip back
to town brought us to El Sitio for some Taco's a la pasilla and a cold
beer entonces back to la casa for a quick siesta before the evenings
activities. Pretty much another good day of checkin out nature, finding
some waves and leaving no footprint of our adventure. For more
information on what you can do google Howard Zinn and start reading. As
in the words of KRS-1, "take the pillow from your head and put a book
in it." Namaste.
SC goin' down the line...
Room with a view, post sesh.
The road less travelled.
(All photos 12/28/05 courtesy of J. Leggitt aka Flying Fish)
December 29
I would wake up this day, at old friend, college buddy, Gregory Schell's apartment in Santa Monica. We enjoyed some yerba mate, and wheat toast w/ almond butter and honey, before heading south on the 405. Hurtling down the 405 at 75MPH random, uplifting songs blared out of my iTunes and I found myself stoked despite the rough night's sleep.
Pulling off at Via De La Valle in Del Mar we were stoked to be arriving in San Diego County and S&T's place.
SA & Hank Ten, North SD County and loving it

Sierra Nevada, single fin and fish grilling on the BBQ = 1 epic night in SD County.
That evening, we purchased and cooked some fine fresh fish from Seaside Market and enjoyed a couple Sierra Nevada Celebration Ales, before retiring to the surf DVD, Glass Love.
December 30
1 mile down the trail and hundreds of waves await...
The early morning surf check from our styley accomodations
revealed the swell was still pumping! SA was slated for some family
time,
so Greg and I loaded his truck and two boards and headed for the world class beach break to our south.
Checking
the waves from atop the cliff, we were elated with what we saw --
glassy, peaky, bombs detonating in the 8-10' range. We grabbed our gear
and began the vertical descent down the sandstone cliffs.
Greg hoping his 6'3" is enough...
I paddled out on my 7'2" feeling pretty
confident, but was dismayed to find a packed lineup with all the
"regulars" nabbing the biggest and cleanest
waves.
Nonetheless, I was mightily impressed with some of the waves that were
blowing through. I watched in awe, as a 10' barrelling, hollow left
came through. The rider dropped, dug a rail and went down hard. He was unfazed however and would score the next couple biggies.
After
awhile I paddled back north and caught a few uncontested waves and
started getting in the groove. My 7'2" was a bit much board at times
but it proved
flawless in the late, steep drops of some of
the bigger waves I got. At 12:30, I went to catch my final wave and
went over the falls hard and got tossed. It was time
to go in. I came
up the beach totally spent and met Greg at our spot. Just then Jimmy
came up the beach and prepared for a paddle out. Greg and I made
our way back up the cliff in the 70 degree air and headed for veggie burritos.
After
an afternoon nap back at S&T's, I contemplated breaking my 6 day
"outdoor shower only" self-imposed mandate, but thought better of it.

Pumping

The calm repose of these surfers belie the heaviness just offshore...
December 31
Mexico and the Mother Hips
The year was coming to a close and Greg and I found ourselves
waffling hard over going in to Baja in the waning hours of '05 or not. We were enjoying
North
County immensely, but the pull of the border was too strong... we
decided that making a run for the border for surf and fish tacos would
be great way to finish out '05. That night, we needed to be in San
Diego for the Mother Hips NYE show,
so a day trip was the call. We cruised south on the I-5 and made
it across the border in no time. Driving through TJ and out to the
coast the excitement in the cab grew as big blue-grey lines marched
ashore. The swell was still happening! We made our way down to K-38 and
found about a dozen cars in the lot and mediocre waves. It was
definitely rideable, perhaps even fun, but a bit crowdd for the
conditions. So we decided
to head back up north a mile or so to Calafia, where we'd seen big
walls
coming in off the point there. Sure enough there were waves, and we
found only one other guy out.
We slid into our soggy wetsuits and made our way
down the steps in the cliff to the rocky shoreline. Greg made his way
out first
sliding between a few exposed boulders as he paddled swiftly for
the outside. We both caught waves in the first ten minutes or so and I
thought we were
in for an all-time session. My first wave was a big 5-6'
(Hawaiian) roller that allowed for several turns before pulling out in
front of the rocks. I then caught another, smaller, faster wave on the inside.
Paddling back out, I watched Greg scratch in to a similar
wave. He made a perfect drop backside and angled his way up
the smooth green-grey surface to shoot down the line behind me. The
water
reminded me of Pleasure Point in Santa Cruz and it felt great. The
horizon held big dark
clouds and we knew rain was on the way. But we were loving it - surfing
out the final hours down in Baja, talking story, amped up.
After an inital, fun 45 minutes, Calafia all but shut down and we
made our way in around a cove to surf "the inside". Turns out, that wasn't too
happening either and we plotted our exit, which looked dicey at best. From
where we would paddle in, we'd have either a long walk along the
boulder strewn, tide pool expanse of beach, or a sketchy hike up a cliff to the highway (possibly
trespassing) and a long dusty walk back along the highway. We chose the
former. With this route we could at least check out the tide pools, and not have to
trespass. Back at my truck we rinsed off with some water we'd brought and headed in to the historic restaurant for lunch.
The
feel of the hotel and restaurant is fantastic. It almost feels like you
are a tourist in the year 1968 - warm Mexican hospitality, great
buildings and architecture and fabulous views. And as it turns out
Calafia has bit of hisotry (from www.hotel-calafia.com):
Calafia, according to an old legend, was the Queen of a mythical island named California.In 1773, Friar Francisco Palou established the first division of the New
and the Old California. Fra. Palou divided the territories of the
Franciscan and the Dominican Missions by putting the border exactly on
the hill in front of Calafia, making this site a very important
landmark in the history of both Californias.
Greg and I enjoyed a great lunch and ice cold beer, while
overlooking the point and big sluggish waves rolling in, and then
decided to make the return trip.
Hip Hank Ten at the Calafia Hotel.
Driving north in the waning daylight of '05 I insisted that we
stop in to surf Baja Malibus. We checked it and it was going off with
nobody out. Greg would have nothing of it - content to kick
it
in his warm jacket, in the mist and light rain. I threw on my wet
wetsuit and jammed down to the beach for the final go-out of the year.
As I got to the water's edge I realized it was much bigger
and
thicker than it looked from the car! The fog was filling in as I jogged
across the wet sand and shallow water into the ocean. The paddle out
was OK, but once out there I found myself
constantly paddling
my ass off to evade big nasty sneaker waves that were coming in. I
dialed in to a short left, then a short right and was feeling good.
Then a big set came and I found
myself bailing my board and
taking a bit of a beating! I was a bit rattled by this, but was
determined to keep surfing in hopes of snagging an elusive tube ride.
The fog was
getting heavy and the lights of the condos were
flickering, and to add to the excitement, some amigos were shooting
loud fireworks off the cliff. I took a late drop on a good sized left
got
in the pocket then dug my front rail and went down. Popping up there
was a big bang! from the fireworks, and freaked out, I grabbed my board
and spun back around and paddled out.
As it got to sunset I
decided "enough is enough" and caught a decent right all the way in.
The 5-6 short intense rides I did get were enough to stoke me
out.
We cruised to the border in no time
and were stoked to find only one car in front of us at the checkpoint.
Easiest border crossing ever.
On the
recommendation of the Hips, Greg and I took in some Italian dinner at
Felipo's Pizza Grotto in the recently re-done Little Italy section of
San Diego. The food was super,
the Sierras went down all too well and
the place was jumping in all of its Italian family dining charm.
Afterwards we hooked up with the ever-gracious
JeffinDC at his hotel room so we could clean up a little for the show.
Greg got decked out - looking every bit the Santa Monica surfer, and I
threw a quick shave and a couple more beers and we were headed for the
club.
We
walked in to Billy Midnight's set and I was instantly impressed with
the sounds and the vibes from the stage. Those boys know how to play,
and how to entertain. The San Diego
feel was in full swing: Friendly, cool neo-hippy surfers everywhere, lots of smiles, lots of grooving.
But of course the main event was the Mother
Hips. I took a shot of Tequila with Tim before their set and then sat
back and watched the magic go down. They opened with
Back To
The Grotto, a familiar enough tune, that threw me for a loop. Instantly
recognizable, but played in a very rare place in the set list. From
there they went in to a
raucus Poison Oak and things didn't let up until the mid-tempo Whiskey on a Southbound some 14 songs later!

TB Rock - Tim putting it all out there, NYE
In
total, it was a wonderful night of rock music, amongst some really
great people. After the late night camp fire set at the Super8
with DelRay and the gang, Greg kindly
drove Liberty back up the 5 to Solana where we crashed out.
NYD 2006
Still happening; running on surf stoke
Guest entry: SA
Awoke
NYD to yet ANOTHER day of swell. Will this one ever stop? Just amazing.
I checked it from the landingat the condo and sure enough another head
high plus day.
This would be day 7 since I drove
down. I really doubted Hank Ten would rally today. I mean, I
think he came home right at 4:20 a.m.-- after raging hard at the Mother
Hips show.
I was pleasantly surprisedwhen he came down the
stairs around 10:30. I joked that he should grab a cup of fresh
brewed coffee an join me for some waves.
Without hesitation he said "Let's go."

This is a shot taken after our sesh! Still goin'.
We hit Seaside reef for about 2 hours that late morning and then finished up with some glass love
inspired beach break just North of the reef. (Ed note: Hank would drop in on a
perfect
head high left - perhaps the best wave of the trip - and upon making a
flawless bottom turn, SA's 6'8" stopped in its track as a large piece
of glass on the already compromised
bottom
broke off! The remainder of the sesh would be surfed on the single
fin.) Super fun 3 hour seshie ("Pull the Neal... awhoooo!"). I remember
now that whenever I surf
warmer water,
I have incredible endurance. The chilly
waters of Norcal definately wear you out quicker. I
could have paddled and surfed another 2 hours if it
was firing. Although the wind
was off shore (still!)
the tide was really low and making everything close
out. Nontheless I grabbed one more little barrell before calling it a day. Great way to start the New
Year.
I love North County.

Cardiff SA takin it all in.
01/02/06
All good things come to an end
I love San Diego. I
had been dreading leaving North County the last two days. But, all good
things end, and on Jan 2, Scott and I found blown, sloppy, un-surfable
surf. We cruised and checked a few spots but it was for naught. I'd
already worn out my welcome by a couple night's at S&T's, so
shoving off was a good idea. I drove north on I-5 and was digging some
real old school Reggae, courtesy of my new Mother Hips friend, Jeff in
DC (Thanks, Jeff!).
I made a final quick stop in the southland -- a couple burritos and a fish taco at Pedros in San Clemente, and then gunned it north.
The massive rain storm predicted was a farce, and I sailed through Los Angeles at 70+. Getting off at 101 Ventura Freeway I had a sense of calm, happiness and stoke to be headed into the "South Coast", having ripped through L.A.
Given the ripped and torn conditions of the surf along the 101, I'd all but given up on my streak of consecutive surf days. Talking to my Mom on the cellie, I'd told her of my outdoor only shower policy and nine day surf streak. She laughed at the absurdity of the outdoor policy - "Why do you feel you must rough it?" she inquired. I told her "One gallon a day for showering. That's it!"
I cruised in to Santa Barbara no worries. I figured I'd pick up some beers and some chips y salsa, and head up to Jason's, but cruising through town, I noticed the wind was off-shore. After a quick stop at Channel Islands surf shop just to check out the absurd price of surfboards, I drove by a little point/beach break where I used to lifeguard for the City of SB. Low and behold, I saw A-frame beach break peaks and about ten guys in the water. I flipped my truck around and pulled into the lot and quickly suited up. I paddled out into the chocolate brown water and grabbed a few short, fun waves. Then a I paddled into a right and pulled a Neil Purchase Jr. -- pig dogging a zippy right. The feel of the single fin locking in and in perfect trim is a spectacular feeling. I shot off the back of the wave
I made a final quick stop in the southland -- a couple burritos and a fish taco at Pedros in San Clemente, and then gunned it north.
The massive rain storm predicted was a farce, and I sailed through Los Angeles at 70+. Getting off at 101 Ventura Freeway I had a sense of calm, happiness and stoke to be headed into the "South Coast", having ripped through L.A.
Given the ripped and torn conditions of the surf along the 101, I'd all but given up on my streak of consecutive surf days. Talking to my Mom on the cellie, I'd told her of my outdoor only shower policy and nine day surf streak. She laughed at the absurdity of the outdoor policy - "Why do you feel you must rough it?" she inquired. I told her "One gallon a day for showering. That's it!"
I cruised in to Santa Barbara no worries. I figured I'd pick up some beers and some chips y salsa, and head up to Jason's, but cruising through town, I noticed the wind was off-shore. After a quick stop at Channel Islands surf shop just to check out the absurd price of surfboards, I drove by a little point/beach break where I used to lifeguard for the City of SB. Low and behold, I saw A-frame beach break peaks and about ten guys in the water. I flipped my truck around and pulled into the lot and quickly suited up. I paddled out into the chocolate brown water and grabbed a few short, fun waves. Then a I paddled into a right and pulled a Neil Purchase Jr. -- pig dogging a zippy right. The feel of the single fin locking in and in perfect trim is a spectacular feeling. I shot off the back of the wave
in the twilight with an ear-to-ear grin.
Looking over the Mesa at a sliver of blue sky, between some palms, and clouds all around, I had a realization about my relationship back home... I paddled in darkness, looking for a peak. At this moment, I had an epiphany: I hadn't even really wanted, or needed to surf this evening -- but I needed an outlet, a crutch for the pain I was feeling. Perhaps if I could find some magic in the surf, in the ride, it would dull the pain or give me some relieve. My session didn't end with an epic ride. Instead, unable to really catch a decent wave in, I simply paddled in in the darkness with peaky chocolate waves detonating up on the shore.
I ran back to my truck in the near darkness. Changing at my truck I heard a jogger yell my name. I looked up and say a figure at the picnic tables doing pushups. As the figure approached, I realized it was Jason.
Back
at Jason's we enjoyed his hot tub before throwing back a few cocktails
before dinner. We walked down to his favorite Sushi place and dug in to
a great dinner. We continued in to the gone Santa Barbara night
afterwards and wound up back at his place
sometime after midnight. We watched a surf flick and listened to some Stones before calling it a night.
"I know I dreamed you, a sin and a lie, I got my freedom, but I don't
have much time...Faith has been broken, and tears must be cried,
let's do some living after love dies."