Thursday, May 26, 2011
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Cher Pendarvis, surf-matriarch of San Diego Proper, researched, penned, and produced a fantastic piece about my favorite shaper of all time, Steve Lis, for my favorite publication, TSJ. She participated in the very organic and experimental timeframe when Mr. Lis and his cohort were at the heights of their collective and individual creativity. Please read it and fancy the phrasing and photographs. Imagine a moment or two along those sandy shores, next to those sublime reefs, during those dynamic years.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
A conspiracy raises against me. My immune system pulls levers and alarms sound. Hoses expel founts of steam. Small men in white bio-contamination suits roam my cells. Sickness strikes. And always at the most inopportune times.
In all of April, four surfs. I just can't seem to find the rhythm to stretch the rubber and wax the water wings. Two beautiful kids, plus twenty three more at work takes a bit of energy, leaving me with weekends- yes, I'm that guy now. But, of course, I cannot resist and must coach GG's football(soccer), basketball, and tee ball teams. I love it. It's all great. But, fish gawta swim.
Three days ago the child of a world-famous longboarder told me his dad was picking him up to take him surfing. "I might even get to go out to the big waves all by myself." The swell was a macking 9 inches. "I think we might go to (The Drive Thru). I like it there. I can play Bobba Fett in the sand."
Thank you, kid. Deep breaths and simple smiles. Simplify those dangerous must-do days with a view of sand, silver sea, and horizon line. Thank you, Kid's Dad, for not being too self-important to grab the time and soak a surf with your son.
Water's warming up. My family will see you at the beach. We'll be the ones wearing the smiles.
As an aside, if you ever have the chance of ordering a clear, 5'7, classic templated fish with big fiberglass keels from Steve Lis you should go for it. It is a really fun ride.
Monday, April 4, 2011
My last board, 5'7 and keeled for comfort was glassed clear, to match my black wetsuit. It gets tubed at the right reef down yonder- when I'm not blowing late drops and swimming, swimming, swimming.
My tenth anniversary with my wife is approaching. She wants to get me something special. A board perhaps? Nope. What I need is time to do something with the boards I have.
To have is to hold onto the moment and protect it from the creeping change. To have is to worry, to consider, to secure. No, I don't need more. I need to do more.
Brad Barrett (I think) filled some pages in TSJ with recovered moments from decades past. Painted pages with characters, moments, music. Inspiration to do and to do and to do. Then there were pages with tropical purgatory with dichotomous perfection and peril. Inspiration to do and warning to only do it well. Then there is my son, charging to kick and run and catch and play. Inspiration to do and to do my best.
Through these prismatic lenses I recognize that I am most richly blessed with my days of doing. My time is not always my own, but it is invariably bulging with the bounty of a purposeful life. Yes, I want to surf more and travel more and let the outdoors light sit on my still body. But while I am purposed to do, I will do well.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
A trail at the start usually leads to good surf memories. For instance, I walked down to Triton's Doorstep a month ago and got my wetsuit blown halfway down my torso by a Canyon Set. Ah, memories.
A week off of work, but always other work to do. Still, a short stay just a stroke away from The Trestle had me mat-packing. Wetsuit, fins and a mat are incredibly functional travel companions.
Monday through Thursday would be Theme Park Purgatory- much pleasure some passive pain. But oh the grins on my kids' faces. Sliding was prescribed.
Monday was probably negative twenty degrees centigrade on the beach at Uppers. I changed into my wetsuit bare-arsed as the shorebirds, more demure than I, looked on. Puff-puff and I'm immersed. I knew I'd only have an hour of warmth in my pocket so waves were my prey. Not a soul to share with. Double overhead (on the mat) and zipping along the cobbles. Beautiful, thrilling, novel, sensational.
This was my theme park ride. These were my roller coasters. This, my happiest place on earth.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
What is Pendoflex? from Cher Pendarvis on Vimeo.
Thanksgiving morning. After a week off of work I've yet to surf. My beloved is laid low with sickness now lessening. We are headed to the beach to celebrate Thanksgiving with a few neighbors. Soccer for the kids, smalltalk for the adults. But what for me?
Of course I throw a wetsuit in the car (short-sleeve-full is the Swiss Army knife of neoprene). Of course I mention a "If I can slide out for an hour it would be great, but I didn't even bring a board so we'll see." My understanding better half grins. She knows. She gets it.
Pull up to The Drive-Through and spot clean shoulder high lines, good winds. Even better, I spot Rshred with Dlightful and their little wahine. Boards are stacked high on their car.
After settling and mingling and nervous glances towards the waves I slide over to glean a borrowed board. "Sure, what do you want to take out?" "What've you got?" Selection is good. I take out a 6' three-finned swallow tail Pendoflex. I love the tripped out flex profile of Pendo's boards. They're unique and hard to categorize. Time to surf.
In one hour I get many fun little fancy ones. Mostly rights, I feel out the three fins and start to use the vertical alignment knob. Smack, smack, whack. First thruster in a while feels fresh and easy. Thanks Rshred!
Returning the board I spot The owner of PB surf shop. He spots me and lets me know that the board is a shop demo. RAD. Double dip for me!
Due to some health issues, this was the last time that I surfed. I'm just about ready to go again and cannot, cannot wait.