Chock full weekend rambles.
Friday got home for some wave action.
Pretty smooth ocean.
Caught a handful of smallish clean ones.
Afterwards had to check Man Ape at the Mollusk party.
I also kinda know the drummer in the jazz duo that opened up.
Party was solid, i must say.
2 or 3 very talented cuties in the mix… not that i was looking.
The jazz duo that opened were tight.. guitar and drums.
Guitarist used the Boss Loop Station to lay down rhythm loops..
then he shredded somewhat fierce over top.
I guess they’re living above Mollusk for the summer.
Drummer was bummed about absence of nearby longboarding spots.
He’s from Cardiff (i think) and was telling me about the killer logger locales in that area.
I’ve never been to north county San Diego.
Surf-art-hipster fashion scene was on fire at the party.
Awesome to also watch hipsters bike to the party on their custom fixed-gears.
A long ride from the mission/lower-haight/western-addition.
Then i hung with friend’s 4-week-old who looked like a huge raison… only way cuter.
Then a monster morning jam on Saturday since the waves were really bad.
Flew to Vegas for friend’s bachelor party Saturday afternoon.
We pimped it in this huge suite at the Wynne.
Afternoon pool scene filled with 112 degree heat… base-pumping hip-hop and…
MANY bare boobies! whoa!
keep in mind that many of these boobs weren’t the perkiest/tightest/etc… but..
gotta give it up for toplessness.
On a plane back to SF at 9:30 am sunday morning.
I can’t deal with more than 16 hours of Vegas and plan my trips accordingly.
Vegas is horrible. But kinda fun too… i guess.
In surf news the beach was mega smooth glassy sweetness.
A mysto head-high+ mid-period windswell crept in overnight.
The low tide witnessed countless crystalline barrels crack and bend over well-groomed sandbars.
Sorrowfully for those in my zone three truckloads (lifted trucks) of
aggro, cholo-styled West Side Santa Cruz aggronauts descended on
our little surf utopia.
They yelled us off the peak and then proceeded to tear the bags out of waves.
Then their friend came whipping out of the golden gate on his jet ski.
The Santa Cruzians then proceeded to do tow-ats and shoot photos..
letting us local denizens get nare a wave.
By this time we’d paddled to the next peak so it wasn’t such a big deal…
just a bummer to hear the loud engine whine.
But.. .then… our saviors… the mega-stylized soul-cruisers from Mollusk
walked down to the water’s edge.
$700 retro twin-fins under their shoulders.
They looked perplexed and miffed at the lack of chill respect shown by
these Santa Cruz interlopers.
The Mollusk boys proceeded to paddle out to the lineup and ask the
Santa Cruz cowboys to please stop using the ski and to kindly share the peak.
The head Santa Cruz punked-out ruffian.. flying high on his sponsor’s “Lost Energy Drink”
laughed at Mollusk-dude’s face.
When he saw that Mollusk dude was serious he let out a visceral growl and then began to
slap Mollusk dude in the face.
Quicker than you could light a joint Mollusk dude grabbed Santa Cruz’s hand…
reached under the water with his other hand and performed a age-old Taiwanese
testicular death grip on Herr Santa Cruz.
Santa Cruz’s voice immediately rose three octaves.
Mollusk again calmly reiterated his requests.. share the waves.. quiet the ski.
This time Santa Clown aquiesced..
All was then quiet on the OB front.
——————————————–
hey all.. i just noticed about 90 comments that were all waiting for approval for some reason!
Argh!!!
Most of them were solid comments filled with photos and shit.
most by Kaiser, man ape, bagel, j, sco, bbr, humblepie, etc..
FYI I approved them all… but of course they’re all back in the archives now..
Wanted to surf yesterday after work but conditions were just too ugly.
This morning looked like a possibility?
Surface not as bad as yesterday afternoon.
Maybe it was glassy and wedging?
Maybe head-high, crisp, offshore-licked zippy tubes?
Probably a 12-hour sandbar in front of my house.
A no-joke A-frame peeling machine-like wave after wave.
Like Lowers.. but a bit faster and more walled.
Two rippers out there.. it’s actually Tom Curren and Machado.
Bummed i missed that shit.
Steve earned a butt-load of money as a hedge-fund manager in San Francisco.
He and his wife Patty loved to surf and owned a sweet designer house
on the great highway.
Their two boys, age 14 and 12, also enjoyed surfing.
At age 50 Steve had about 6 mil in the bank, plus the value of his house.
He and the missus always dreamed of relocating to Maui or Kauai.
They found a place on a hillside above Hanalei Bay and left the dismal SF summer
for the warm blue skies of the islands.
The family had a blast that first summer.
Hiking, surfing, exploring.
Being amazed by the tropical splendour.
Then school started.
The boys had pretty much kept to themselves over the summer.
Now they were enrolled in the Hawaiian public school system.
Junior High.
On the first day they were sitting together at lunch when a bunch
of big, dark-skin Hawaiian bruddahs approached them.
“Hey Haole!”
“Gimme dat fruit rollup!”
Little Johnny at first refused but his big bro gave him the nod and he turned it over.
“Dis is our island, fucking Haoles!”
“Go back to the mainland unless you wan pound!”
Later that day the boys were walking home from school and a truck full of Hawaiian and
local white kids pulled up next to them. At first they were all smiles… but then they began
cackling and throwing eggs at the boys.
They boys began running but the locals just followed them in their truck and kept laughing.
This bullying continued all year.
Steve and Patty considered moving back to SF.
They considered sending the boys to boarding school on the mainland… or maybe Punahou on Oahu.
Then one winter day the shit hit the fan.
Charlie.. the older of the boys, struck up a flirtatious friendship with his
cute classmante Malia.
Malia was half Japanese and half-hawaiian.
She was bright, friendly, vivacious.
She took Charlie on hikes, to the beach, to a waterfall.
Charlie was on cloud nine.. until..
Just like in Blue Crush… Malia decided to take Charlie longboarding
at a low-key beach on the East Side.
As they were coming in after a magical session Malia noticed her brother’s
jacked-up pickup in the dirt lot.
She also noticed her brother and a bunch of his drunken, iced-out friends waiting there
on the beach.
As they noticed her notice them they began yelling out to the two of them.
“Bring it Haole!!”
A few waves here and there.
Some enjoyable sessions.
One spot that’s usually empty was packed to the gills.
Lemming effect working strong.
Another spot 2 minutes away same conditions… only a few out.
A few overhead waves on offer.
Fighting to make it around sections.
Channelling Taj or Kelly at J Bay.
Personally not succeeding in that endeavor.
Saw Smashing Pumpkins last night at the Fillmore.
They rocked.
My expectations were low after reading a horrific review in SFGate.
I work for a music company now… so we were comped a bunch of tix.
Corgan opened with some pretty, gentle acoustic ditties.
Then Chamberlain and company morphed onto the stage and the
band began to rock progressively harder and harder.
Super-cute, petite, groove-heavy bass-player chick.
Corgan and other guitarist traded off frenetic, stylized, chunky licks.
Everyone in the band save the drummer sang.
I love when everyone sings/harmonizes.
The show was solid and the band were obvious pros.
However… listening to Metallica’s “Fade to Black” right now…
off Ride the Lightning..
4 minutes into the song the band changes gears and heads into one the
heaviest, burlyest metal/rock segments in musical history… imho.
Every time i listen to it.. i imagine Hetfield’s vocal harmony as a radical
surfer banking a high-speed lip-click off the powerful wave of the melodic progression.
Sabbath-esque.
Some surfable wave-forms in the drink this morning.
Wind was up but the surface remained inviting.
Didn’t see any takers but noticed a bunch of surfboards-atop cars while
biking to work.
I hope Kelly or Bobby M take Jbay.
Shred onward.
Damn.. Ride the Lightnight kicks ass!! “For Whom the Bell Tolls!” hellz yeah.
Cliff Burton RIP
Rockin Jellybean is definitely one of my fave artists
Came home from work.
Concrete Jungle.
Nare a tree in the outer sunset.
Check the waves.
Looks flat.
Read Blender Magazine.
Basically a gossip rag for the music industry.
Go skate.
Some other skater joins.
For some reason i lose concentration.
Biff hard on my first turn.
Fall again a few turns later.
Body shaking from the shock of falls on cement.
Not too damaged.. just a hurt wrist, thumb, pride.
Skate to the beach and have another look.
Hrrm.
Where did the swell come from?
Kinda looking good.
Go back suit up.
Heard it’s warm so go for the 4/3 (usually wear a hooded 5/4).
Jog down.
Find a peak right out front.
Northern drift.
Some good-looking waves coming through.
Couple a head-high wedgy, low-tide things.
Paid to be patient and wily.
Caught one really nice right but kooked my bottom turn…
lost too much speed and instead of tearing the shit out of the
top of the lip i kinda lamely rode to the top of the wave…
then back down.
Had some fun pumping, a few drops and a few smaller down-the-line lip-clicks.
I need to improve on my quickness/style/balance/line off the drop and
my first bottom turn so as to capitalize on the speed and power of the
start of the wave.
Gotta be explosive on that first maneuver… so says Snips and Dino Andino.
Good to surf with Traut.
shredulicious.
PowerShoes rule… first saw them at BurningMan and was like, “WTF!?”
A few photos of a trip i took with Jeremy earlier this year.
We scored bountiful waves.
Received gnarly stinkeye.
Enjoyed pleasurable high-speed funnels.
Hiked through magical places.
Surfed alone most sessions.
