Hydrosexual Stephen Davis Pig-Dogs One

More than one, actually. John the Calendar Guy took some photos of a rare northwest break. Hey, I have to go. I’ll get back to this. There is a story. Yeah, always a story. Here’s 1,000 words…

steve-3

Okay, so Stephen, whose wave riding posture is more typically a casual stand-and-almost-slouch (hope you’re imagining a confident, defiant, hips-forward, wave-challenging stance), but, on these little bombettes, was just tucking-in from the takeoff. Some he made, and on some the wave won; not that getting rolled while inside a tube isn’t the very best way to not make a wave.  If being absolutely parallel to the wave would give you a score of 100, I’m giving Stephen 105. Hey, do your own scoring.

facebook_1451970455753(1)k6

So, on the right, on the same day, in one of several photos taken by John the Calendar Guy, Librarian/surfer (totally alternate egos) Keith Darrock in his typical posture, tucked-and-driving. I’m saying 95, but, if you’re on the shoulder, hoping to take off, and don’t think Keith will make the section, think again.

And, thinking again, on the left, some unnamed spot on the Far Northwest Coast, with whiplash offshores; and because I like to give people nicknames, and a nickname just won’t stick if it doesn’t ring true, and “Stay at Home Nate” obviously didn’t, and I don’t actually know Nate’s last name; I would like to offer “Seventy-five percent Nate” as an alternative. Oh, yes; “75% thinks he’s barreled.” If I get called on this, I’ll probably cave. “Eight-two percent Nate;” no, doesn’t sound right. “Big Bic Nate?”

No, that’s right; Adam Wipeout told me it’s not a Bic.

 

Advertisements

Adam Wipeout’s Happy Birthday Cake, with Frosting

Sorry, I have to eat now, right now.

20151025_174008

Okay, I’m back. All wave spots are fickle; wave quality decided by a variety of factors we all know well. Actually, we know what the variables are, we don’t always know how they affect a particular day.  Adam had planned on hitting a forecast swell on Thursday, the day before his birthday, possibly staying overnight, getting some more waves on Friday. That didn’t work out, but he did get some waves late in the day. On Sunday he missed a bigger swell in which only his friend Nate was, according to reports, the only one to paddle out in overhead conditions, but, late in the day, with the tide dropping, he surfed this part of the bay which could be compared to the side curve of a soup spoon, with the point in the distance the, um, point, and this spot at the place where the ladle part meets the handle. The sand bottom shifts around, the swell goes more south or north, the wind drops and turns into an offshore hush, and Adam celebrates a few tubes alone.

Yeah, he says this was a smaller set, with the waves as thick as they were high, and with him pulling into a few. “I couldn’t help but get tubed,” he said, “didn’t make all of them.” There is no better place to get wiped out, I told him, than the tube. Partially I asked him if I could post the photo because my favorite experience at this bay was at this very part of the spoon, low tide, with every wave staying open.   It wasn’t my birthday, but, like Adam, I took the gift gratefully. When I checked the same spot later, at high tide, it was as if it had never been there.