San Onofre - The Price is Wrong, Bitch

Surf Report:  5 foot and head high

Winds: Prevalent Off shores

Atmosphere:  Sunny and rainy at the same time

Water:  Cold

I was excited about this weekend:  Matt aka Donny Duckbutter secured a spot at San Onofre state park for the weekend, so that meant the DRC had complete access to the trails leading to Uppers, Lowers, Middles, and Churches.  I was so excited that on Thursday night, I could not go to sleep because I was mind surfing those waves the whole time. 

Friday night rolls around, and I am pretty exhausted from coaching and work.  Death Wish Dave was back for spring break, so he wanted to come out and surf with us too.  We both set out to the camping grounds past 1000 PM.  Dave drove down to San O after a marathon session of snowboarding at Mountain High;  I don’t know how he stayed up while driving, but hopefully music and chit chatting kept him up. 

We arrived a little past midnight and sit around the small campfire Matt had going on.  The tent was set up, he had a propane burner with a pot on it, a chair around the fire, and an amazing view right in front of us of a black, pounding beach.  He filled us in on his arrival on Friday morning, how he ate food at San Clemente, then set up camp in the pouring rain, his first session once he got here, and how he shared a peak with a longboarding couple afterwards.  We got all of our stuff ready to go and tucked in closely in his tent, for Dave didn’t have a sleeping bag. 

The rain drops and waves crashing and the biting cold kept me up all night.  I just could not sleep on the ground inside a tent inside a sleeping bag with the sand on my back acupuncturing my sides and making me roll closer and closer to Dave.  Dave got up to go pee, and he rolled up in Matt’s spare sleeping bag, for the cold was unbearable; the night seemed to roll on continuously like the waves pounding the shore line as I dozed in and out of a comatose of sleep and bitter cold. 

I heard the pot being put on the burner, and the repetitive click click click of the fire being turned on.  I guess Matt already woke up.  The morning still blended with the night and the darkness was still confusing me if I should be waking up or not, but I was already up and so I decided to haul my ass out of the sleeping bag, tear myself open from the tent and go outside to greet Matt. 

I tried to pump myself up for the surf, but my mind was groggy.  My body still seemed too tired and rusty, as if I needed to lubricate my joints like the tin can man.  My mind was just in another area, outside of my head, and that just set me up for failure for today’s surf session.

The three of us ate some quick breakfast and got changed; we ate banana’s, had some hot cocoa, some coffee, some cutie tangerines, and beef jerky.  We set out walking down towards Churches where we decided to paddle out. 

The waves were coming in nicely with some clean rights rolling through.  The winds were off shore and the sun was starting to shine.  Matt was the first to paddle out.  Dave followed suit.  I stayed and stretched out on the beach for a while before I decided to paddle out.  As I walked across the cobble stoned shore line, I see Matt catch the first set wave that rolled through.  He bottom turned, hacked off the top, re-entered the wave, and then kicked out to paddle back out to the line up.  He was on point today, and it was definitely a premonition of how the day would be for him. 

Dave drifted as he paddled out.  He was way passed our starting point by the time I started to paddle out.  He was sore from snowboarding still, and I doubt he got much rest either.  We both were floundering in the white water as we got pushed south by the current.  I finally made it out to the line up, only to see that I was about 30 yards away from Matt, waving me down to come over to the peak.  I look back to my landmark and I see that I drifted 30 yards down south and that the current was just kicking my ass when I paddled out.  So I paddled, slowly but surely, towards Matt.  Dave was just a dot on the horizon as I paddled further and further away. 

I struggled greatly today.  All the time I was trying to paddle into wave after wave, I couldn’t get in the wave and felt under-gunned.  Randy came into one of my thought bubbles and said that I needed a bigger board.  But reality set in:  It was all me.  I’ve paddled out on bigger days on my fish, and I’ve been fine.  Today, my body and my mentality was set up for defeat, all from the lack of rest.  All throughout the morning, I could hear the fail horn from the Price is Right ringing in my ears. 

There were a lot of groms and longboarders out too.  However, they didn’t want to sit on the peak, where the take off spot was.  Matt did, and he got every single wave that came in.  When I saw him paddle in to those waves, the sun shining on him, he glided through the feathering lip and popped up so quickly, I heard Bob Barker say “Come on down~ Matt! You’re on the Price is Right!  KK, get, get off the stage, you’re embarrassing yourself.  Go on, get off.  Sheesh.”  And then he would slide down gently onto the face, and smack off the top of the lip.  There were not BUCKETS of spray coming out, but there were definitely envious sprays shooting off the top. 

We waved Dave in, since he was closer to the Hawaiian Islands than he was to San Diego.  He paddled in, and waited with us.  A rogue seven wave set came in, and Matt warned me about it.  I warned Dave, and for some reason he hopped off his board when the first wave came in.  Matt and I were lucky enough to duck dive out of the way, and I think Matt went for the second wave of the set.  At this point, I was just worried about my own survival.  I had to duck under five more set waves, holding onto my board as I was put through the washing machine time and time again, and I wasn’t quite concerned about Dave until I was back out in the line up.  I had to catch my breath as I made my way back out to the line up.  Dave recalls that he got pummeled by the first wave, and the second wave crashed right on him.  The leash came loose, and so he had to swim towards it for about fifteen feet, just in time for another wave to kick his ass, and another wave raped him in the tender loins of his buttocks.  The fifth wave raped his other orifices, and finally Mother Ocean came into his throat, making him swallow her whole, ice cold being. 

Matt just had this huge grin on his face from ear to ear.  He was definitely the winner of this morning, catching almost everything that came his way, unabated by anyone in the line up. 

“Where’s Dave?” I asked.

“I don’t know, I saw him in the inside,” he replied.

“He probably got worked.  I got worked too.”

“Oh yea?  Hey did you see my wave?”

“FUCK YEA I did.”  I said jealously.

Matt offered to change spots since he saw I was so frustrated in the water.  I tried to smile a bit more, telling myself it wasn’t so bad being out here.  But it was hard to swallow when I saw my friend catching wave after wave and I just scratched out on the shoulder every single time. 

So Matt takes a wave in.  It was another exclamation point on the first session at Churches.  I tried to take a wave and I got gobbled up by the wave.  I popped up way too late and my board wasn’t even near my feet when I stood up.  I curled up into a ball and got put down like Old Yeller, getting my head wrenched back and forth between my arms like a bad rollercoaster ride.

I finally get out and see Dave with Matt.  Dave almost drowned on the set waves, and so he had to take a break.  He lost his contact lens too, so he was done for the day.  I didn’t blame him or push him; he came, he saw, he got pummeled. 

I requested that we go take a look at Uppers, since I had such a great time there.  On the way over there, Outhouses was firing a nice A Frame, and so we left that as a back up.  We saw Uppers… and it was crap.  So crazy isn’t it?  Just a handful of yards up the beach, and the wave is closing out, the crowds didn’t justify the waves, and the winds started to shift.  So we headed back to Outhouses.  Matt still was on fire, getting every wave he paddled for, and I still struggled.  I still heard the fail horn from the Price is Wrong.  Bob Barker was looking at me in disappointment like he did at Happy Gilmore.  Matt wanted me to catch a wave, so he told me we should go to the main peak, where a few guys dominated the spot.  I paddled over, hoping to get some fraction of a wave. 

The wait was long, but when the sets came, they CAME.  It was still head high sets, and these few guys just kept getting wave after wave after wave.  I said fuck it, and paddled right in the middle of the pack as Matt stayed away from the crowd, trying to get lucky on the side bowl.  We had a little chuckle with a “get lucky” story too. 

I finally paddled for a set wave.  No one was on it, and I was straight on the peak.  I thought I caught it so I stopped paddling, and the push just came to a halt, and I was left with my balls in my hands and a frown on my face.  I SHOULD HAVE COULD HAVE WOULD HAVE paddled another two strokes, but didn’t, and was left with the awful feeling of regret.  Even Matt told me that he thought I had it, until I stopped paddling for the damn wave.  I am KK’s utter and senseless feeling of defeat. 

I went for one more wave while in the pack.  I paddled for it, but this kid next to me, about two feet away, guns for it too, and I let him go on it.  He probably saw that I wasn’t paddling into any waves anyway, so he can just take it from me.  I am KK’s sore anus, being ripped apart. 

I call over Matt, and tell him I’m done.  He was already full from the wave buffet from earlier, so he was fine.  We both paddle for “one last wave,” and I didn’t get in it.  Matt got in it, all the way to shore, so I was left to paddle in from way far out with 0 waves under my belt. 

I was emotionally and mentally drained from the whole ordeal.  I questioned whether or not I should have taken out a different board, or prepped differently, or done something better.  But I knew it was just lack of rest for me.  I LOVE SLEEPING.  I knew that I had to get some rest tonight, and that this was just a small speed bump in my life as a surfer.  I was determined to re-fuel, rest up, and charge back tomorrow.