Early Storms

Stepping out of my truck onto the soggy sand, I grab my rain jacket and quickly pull it onto my body. The cold South wind cuts through my clothes like a knife cuts through butter. The wind carries the rain horizontally into my backside as my hands furl from the slight discomfort.

Without a soul in sight, I say to myself, "Feels like Fall is here..."

It was a gloomy day on the Mendocino coast. The sky and sea were of the same stormy grey. The only difference was that the ocean was sprinkled with whitecaps from the offshore wind. Continuing down the sandy trail, I try to avoid the puddles that obscure the pathway. It doesn't help. My efforts are in vain, and my Vans become soaked. No longer caring, I continue down the path with puddles and all.

"I need a pair of rain boots..."

Making it to the headlands edge I find the familiar log with the engraving R.I.P Frank. Perching myself upon the log I scan the shoreline for any rideable waves. Minutes go by as I stare out at the ocean. I'm hoping to see something rideable even though I already know it's not going to happen.

 Soaked and cold, I accept defeat that I won't be getting any surf today. I tell myself it will be here another day as I step back through the puddles.

"Man... it would be awesome to have rain boots..."

September Sessions

The fog crept in like a cat eager to pounce on it's prey. The last of the summer heat fought to keep the fog at bay but was slowly losing as dusk approached. Walking down the headlands trail, I spy a perfect wave breaking at the river mouth. This confirmed what I had thought I'd seen while driving along Highway 1. A combination of South swell and the right amount of sand in the bay has created the waves I've been waiting for.

Sprinting back to my truck, I eagerly start pulling on my wetsuit. Looking around I notice the amount of transients hanging out in the parking lot. Leaning on their cars, they casually talk with one another while passing around a joint. I remind myself that this is normal in NorCal during the late Summer early Fall. Grabbing my board I make my way down to the beach.

Walking across the sand, I continually see little lefts breaking across the beach. One perfect wave after another and nobody's out. The water an ominous dark color changed from the previous arctic blue hinting that Fall is just around the bend.

Sliding into a few waves I spy another surfer heading down the beach. With a sense of urgency, I paddle harder back into the lineup to enjoy a few more minutes to myself. In the distance I hear a familiar voice call out, "Wyatt!"

Turning my head I see that it's a friend that I grew up surfing with named Holly.

"Hey! How have you been?"

"I've been great! I was about to drive South but it looked like a lot of fun here."

"Yeah, there's no use in driving when there are waves closer by..."

Seeing a wave in the distance, Holly spins her board around and paddles into a wave. I follow suit and slide into another glassy wave behind hers. Kicking out next to Holly, I can't help but laugh. Amidst my laughter, I'm only able to produce a few words.

"Wow, this is amazing!!"

Holly reciprocates with a smile that seems to say, "I know."