McLame

Alarm at 4:30. Stoked! South showin' on the buoys as I slapped together a bagel. Flyin' down the highway groovin' to the sticky sounds of an old Wailing Souls tape. And 80MPH to 0MPH. Stopped. All four lanes stationary. Helicopters overhead. What the fuck! Feel the dawn creepin' in while I am creepin' along on the freeway. Turns out a big rig named McLane plowed into the divider and we all lose. Hope the driver and others are okay.

Finally get to the spot, 6:45, dawn light well showing, fuck, suit up quick style and rush down to the ocean, no one out! and lines are cruisin' in. Stoked again but still pissed that I have missed the last 45 minutes. Oh well. Paddle out, snag a couple long ones, another joins and another. Yep, the fresh Souths bring all the locals out. Good to see the old faces but the greedy part of me wishes it was only me like usual.

Sadly thrown off all mornin', I can blame it on the freeway if I want to. Always not making the closeout section, always in front of the curl just enough to not get the speed. Waterlogged fat nasty board not cuttin' it. Small backup fin just not stickin' to the face like my bigger fin, that snapped off at this break on low tide a month back, would have. Nothing was balanced. Lucked into a reeler of a last wave that stoked me to the sand but didn't totally satiate my soul. Felt good to play with my liquid friend again. Lookin' forward to more!!!

2.7 @ 14 secs from 170
1st out