The Worst I've Seen Trestles (and it still beats Porto) 051411

Surf Report:  1-3 feet with the occasional 4 footer

Atmosphere: Gray and gloomy

Water: Cool

Winds: Side/On shore

I woke up at 500 AM with 4 hours of sleep under my belt.  I couldn’t sleep again, and I wanted to go back to sleep, so I did. 

I wake up to Christina calling me.  She was already in front of my house and it was about 530 AM.  Right on time, I thought.  So I proceeded to call Khang and Dais and see what their ETA was.  Khang was on his way, and Dais was getting up.

We all knew the waves were going to be crappy in the South Bay, so we made the bold choice of driving down to Trestles to see how the famed cobble stone reef break was.  It has been about a month since being at Trestles, so Dais and I were excited about going there.  It was Khang and Chrisina’s cherry popping moment, for they have not been to Trestles before. 

Matt had his National Guard duty this whole weekend, and we always joke that when he has NG duty, the waves are great.  This time it wasn’t so:  the surf report was grim, and there was little to no swell on the radar for the whole weekend.  We were just trying to chase down the best opportunity we could get to score some waves, for Porto and Manhattan Beach had to be a dismal and sure fire fail. 

We piled in our boards into Khang’s car, which is the “better twin” car of mine.  The backseats are out, and one of the middle seats is out, so there is plenty of room for a stack of boards, and three people to sit.  I opted to sit in the back with all the gear.  We packed all of our stuff in, which included 6 boards, 3 backpacks, and 5 wetsuits.  We set off by 615AM.

The ride down the 405 was super smooth.  There was barely anyone on the freeway as the bangbus van roared down at 75 mph.  We passed by Jamboree, and Khang mentioned there was a pastry shop we needed to stop by later because they were oh-so-delicious.

We see the Denny’s, and we make a quick pit stop to by some protein bars and fluid at the Shell station.  I always like seeing this Denny’s because it means we are right by Trestles.  Christianitos is the third exit after the Denny’s, and we parked down the street leading towards Carl’s Jr.  We arrived in a little over an hour. 

We didn’t know where to go.  There were cars lined up with people coming back from their surf session already.  Khang asked a guy parked a few cars behind us which trail to take.  There was a trail right before us, with bikers and surfers with bike racks coming up this trail, but more surfers coming from across the freeway.  He told us to cross over the freeway, then hang a left onto the trail.  Then we’ll make a right to go down to Trestles. 

We read a STOLEN CAR notice on the fences.  Some guy got his backpack stolen first, then his 2000 Toyota 4Runner was stolen on April 20^th.  What bad luck, and what shady people!  We were careful not to take anything we didn’t want stolen down with us to the beach.

Just then, three groms got dropped off on their skateboards by one of the dads.  They skated passed us and took the trail down.  We walked down the concrete trails, reading the messages written in wax by other surfers:

RIP AI

THE SURF IS GOOD, BUT THE CROWD IS NOT

FUCK GOOKS

WHITE BOY REGGAE MUSIC ROCKS

We heard the birds chirping all along the way as we walked along the San Mateo Creek.  Bikers, runners, and other surfers pleasantly said hello to us as we walked.  We crossed the train tracks and finally got to Cottons. 

Cottons looked okay.  There was barely anyone out, and I didn’t blame them.  The waves looked shitty, the high tide was messing up the whole place, and the trade winds were making any wave look like crap. 

We passed by Uppers, and saw there were some peaks, but it wasn’t really what we were looking for.  Honestly, this was the worst I’ve seen Trestles.  Dais concurred.  But hey, it’s better than Porto. 

We kept walking down to Lowers, and saw that there was a pack of fifteen surfers hugging the peak, but an A frame would roll through and a few surfers would go for the waves.  There were drop ins, but these are “legal drop ins” as I like to say, for the person who got dropped in on wasn’t fast enough or the section would run out on them, so the “snake” utilized the rest of the wave.  The lefts were slow and mushy, but the rights seemed speedy and open.  We decided to try to paddle out a bit south of the pack.

I thought I would wait a few more minutes so the tide would drop out.  But, Khang said he was going out, so I went out with him.  Dais and Christina decided to wait a little bit longer. 

We paddled out to the south peak of the pack, but the little insiders weren’t doing it’s thing.  Khang and I immersed ourselves within the pack and tried to paddle for a few waves.  I caught the first wave out of the two of us, but it was a close out left that I couldn’t wrap around the white water section quickly enough to get onto the open face.  The peaks were white capping and tapered off from the winds, and didn’t open up for my novice surfing skills.  

Khang must have taken some endangered tiger’s milk, because he was on fire for our crew.  He caught the most waves out of everyone.  He caught right after right after right. 

“How do you like the place so far?” I asked.

“It’s alriiiiight,” he said, looking pretty unsatisfied.  Just then he takes another right. 

I guess he wanted to be able to bust some turns or something.  I don’t know, I was pretty jealous of him getting all those waves.

I saw Dais and Christina paddle north of the pack, hanging on the inside.  Dais was telling me that they caught a few of the leftovers, but wasn’t quite satisfied with the spot.  Christina took some waves all the way in, to which Dais warned her not to take them all the way, for the cobblestone reef will ruin the board. 

I tried to take a few rights within the pack, but the guys who have the place dialed in were always on the peak.  They had this knowledge and positioning that neither Khang or I have mastered.  The same guy took the best waves all the time.  And they weren’t noobs either.  They were pretty damn good. 

After a while, about fifteen groms paddle out.  These kids were unbelievable.  One had a cast on, which I learned later came from an accident when he punted an air and the board flew up at him and broke his wrist. 

“Hey, did you win that contest over at ______?” one of them asked a kid.

“No, I got second.  ______ won it,” answered another kid.

“Oh hey _____ congratulations,” he said.

Damn, these kids were winning contests?  And to prove that they were able to, they paddled into a lot of waves, busting myriads turns, and one even punted off the lip for a rodeo flip attempt.  Another tried a 360 air.  I couldn’t even fathom how they caught so many waves, let alone how they were able to punt on these waves.  Their light weight bodies and springy bodies had a lot to do with it, I’m sure, because I was able to paddle stronger than they could.  I have much respect for these kids, for they surf light years ahead of me, and they weren’t asses about it.  Although they did get in the way of me while I squeezed in a few rides for the one hour they were there.  I felt like punching them in the face.  Only kidding.  Slightly. 

So these groms dominated for an hour, and left.  I thought that this would be my time to shine! And then… my leg cramps up.  Not just my leg, but it was that muscle on your shin that started to cramp up.  I think it was the running I did the night before with my own kids while coaching basketball.  The running and changing directions took a toll on my knees and legs for I try to avoid running on the hard court all together now.  I bike to get my legs stronger, but the running killed me the night before.  I tried to massage my leg but I felt my other shin muscle cramp up too!  So, I had to get out. 

I hobbled on the cobblestones and tried to breathe calmly as I walked out.  I stretched my ankles and calves, hoping the cramp would go away.  I saw Khang catch another wave as he went down the line.  I saw Dais join him in the peak. 

Christina came out, looking tired.  She sat next to me as we talked about our sessions.  She was a bit frustrated and a bit irked by the cobblestone reef.  She was glad she was wearing her booties since she would be “a crying little pussy” if she hadn’t.  Her words, not mine. 

My legs started to warm up and got the blood flowing back again.  I had to go out another time.  We were at Trestles!!  I paddled out, and Christina paddled out right behind me.  She bumped me with her board, and then started to tug at my leash to get towed out.

We got out to the line up and saw the goofy footer catch a beautiful wave, and pump so fast down the line.  He blasted the lip and didn’t stick it, but he looked really cool doing so.  Respect to him. 

Khang would catch waves out of no where, dragging his hand on the face of the wave, staying in his wide, powerful stance.  He had a stern look on his face when he rode the face, similar to what Matt’s face looks like when he’s going down the line. 

I hung out with Dais on the end section of the waves, hoping for some free ones to come through.  This section would wall up nicely for a short small ride, and so I got a few rides in and felt a little redeemed and relieved that I wasn’t cramping up again. 

Dais caught a few nice waves, of which one or two I was able to push him into.  On both waves, he got to his feet quickly, and I saw him from behind just shoot down the wave face, with small little pumps that got him down the line.  He is breaking through the barrier onto the next level, and that got me stoked.  He took the wave further than I was able to, so he is definitely improving quicker than I have. 

Christina was floundering at this point.  She was tired, but still came out.  She didn’t really go for any waves at this second go out, and looked like she was just trying to stay out of the surfers’ ways when they came down the line on the peak.  Still, props for her for staying out.  She showed me a cut on her hand that she got from the cobblestones.  It was bleeding nicely, but she still stayed out.  RESPECT.

I had to catch a set wave, or something off the Lowers peak.  There was the goofy footed guy, the neon green board guy, and neon board guy’s friend, who were first in the pecking order.  There was also a Japanese/Korean looking guy that was quiet but really good.  He was definitely a humble, soft spoken man, but was able to take a lot of waves.  There was a long haired dude on a green fish board that took a lot of waves with these guys.  Oh wait, that was Khang.  So, I had to catch something from the peak too. 

Just then, Khang catches a double up and jams his hand into the face.  He stays high in the line, and Dais and I watch him as he rolls passed us on a nice right.  I think he almost ran Christina over?  I’m not sure if it was this wave or not. 

So, I knew I had to catch a wave.  I waited.  I watched the other dudes and where they were sitting, where they were watching, and how they paddled into the waves.  I tried to mimic their every move, and wait. 

A small set rolled through, and there was the goofy footer on my left.  He wasn’t on the peak though, and I was!  So, I pop up, and everyone backed out of the wave.  I was able to finally go down the face and slide to my heart’s content.  However, my body felt rigid like a house of bricks, and I couldn’t pump or carve or do anything.  I just took the wave down the line as Dais gave me a thumbs up for catching a small set off of Lowers. 

As I paddled back out, my right leg cramps up again.  I grimace a bit, and try to massage it.  Then my right calf cramps up, and I’m in more pain.  I decide that my body is telling me to get the fuck out of the water, so I did.  Christina was paddling in, and I told da boyz that I was out and paddled in too.  As I hobbled weakly on the cobble stones, my left groin cramps up too.  It was just not my day. 

We sit next to each other and recount our bumps and bruises.  I had a few scratches on my feet and hand, my legs were cramped up, and Christina had her hand bleeding.  Dais came in after twenty minutes, and he had to stretch his knee out too.  Khang stayed out the longest (first one in, last one out) and recounted his experience at Trestles.  We weren’t all too satisfied, but hey, for what Mother Ocean threw at us, the surf was really good.  We walked back to get our stuff buried in the sand, and started walking up the beach. 

The low tide seemed to kill Uppers, for the reef was exposed, and more surfers were getting out.  Cottons, however, looked really nice.  There were some people in the peanut gallery, watching the surfers do their thing.  There was a bareback guy in the line up, which we all agreed was a stupid guy.  He didn’t last too long.  Khang and Dais opted to paddle out once more, for they were still hungry, but Christina and I were done.  We sat on the beach and talked while the two frothing seniors gave it another go at Cottons.  Khang probably caught ten or thirteen waves within this half hour period, and Dais caught about eight.  They chose the south peak first, then started to move up further north to where Christina and I were sitting.  It was nice to see them catch a lot of waves, and they both came in with smiles on their faces.  Dais seemed to have forgotten about his knee pain temporarily, and Khang said that he liked this spot better than Lowers. 

Well, for what it was, it was worth it in my opinion.  Anywhere else would have been crap, but Trestles still had some waves on hand for us.  If we surf here enough, I think we can improve our surfing ten fold.  It feels like one session at Trestles is forty sessions of Porto. We surfed here for a whopping 3.5 hours... I thought it was just a 2 hour session.  I guess time flies when you are "in the moment."

“Guaranteed wave riding at Trestles,” said Dais.  Well put my friend.

We drove back to Irvine and hit up Café 85.  On the way, we saw a guy in sunglasses, a black shirt, and hot pink Rusty boardshorts.  We all laughed at him, until we saw him again in the parking lot of Café 85.  Then, we hysterically laughed at him again.  Oh how we clown on people.  We judge people day to day. 

I hope we can get a better session in next time we are at Trestles.  Hopefully there is more swell than one foot!  I know there will be… Mother Ocean always has some reward for dedicated surfers!  Mahalos.