Waves and Wipeouts

    AHHH, the good life.  This is what I've been daydreaming about for years.  Since riding my first ocean-wave aboot 25 seasons back thanks to a buddy Dave Rolland taking me out on borrowed gear.  But now I'm floating in cloud 9.  No, not in the Philipines, Puerto Escondido ! =P.  The site that is called the Mexican Pipeline really is a surfer's paradise.  Nowhere else that I've been has as much going for it as this beautiful stretch of coast in Oaxaca state.  With delicious Mexican cooked meals for somewhere between 2-5 dollars, coconut trees on every corner, and a 5 minute walk to a long left-handed pointbreak, a guy could hardly ask for more. . . But somehow, >I haven't even started on the wave that so enticed me to schedule a 2 month vacation out of the blue.
 * we were planning on backpacking after the snowboard season of '13-14 *

    It's named Playa Zicatela, meaning place of big thorns, in the native Nahuatl language.  Here culminates a destination filled with dreams, opportunity, and carnage (a price to pay for the previous ).  Every night while we prepare for bed, the dull roar of 15ft+ set waves crashing into shallow sandbars competes with thunder rolling through the Sierra del Sur mountain range to our nor, nor'east.  While most of the area is aware that surfers from all over the world come to their pueblo to have a go at one of the most powerful waves on planet, not many know the distinct feeling of fear and excitement, fighting one another in a ball of anxiety & bursting from every cell in the body.  Walking on water may not be possible today, but I'm confident that gliding on water will never go out of style.


    Today is Friday, the 11th of October.  There is a big swell currently smashing the south coast of Mexico.  In the 8 days that we've been here, we have had two days with peaks of around 20ft.  These have both fallen on Friday, and I regret to inform the reader that I have no hero stories to tell from these days.  No, I have wussed-out during both swells' peak.  

  ...
   This is hard to talk about, but I'm my biggest critic (that I know of, maybe there are some haters_?) ,  and living with myself is the hardest part about not surfing today or last Friday.  This is not to say that i haven't caught some great waves on the days leading up to and fading away from the peak, it is just to let you know that I'm not the beast-tamer that one might hope.  I must let you know that I've accepted this fact, and a bar-equal feeling is when we woke up 2 hours after sunrise and saw two freshly fallen mangos being pecked by the birds in our yard (it's the very end of the season, supply & demand yo!) 
   
    Last Friday, I woke up knowing it would be big-time.  Mackenzie insisted on doing her ''insanity'' workout while it wasn't too hott (like 80, not 90), so I made the 10 minute bus trip to Zicatela by myself.  After being dropped off by the bus, I walked the 2 or 3 blocks down the hill , watching in awe as wave after wave bore down on the shore, each greater in heigth and mass than the last.  By the time I got to the palapas providing drinks and shade alongside the beach, I had already talked myself out of surfing.  I didn't think my 6'8'' had the length to paddle into one of these monsters!  Every 300 yard long closeout verified my decision to tuck my tail and catch a ride to my homebreak, la punta.  I watched for an hour, as wave after wave closed out the whole quarter mile long beach, occasionally staying open perfectly for a few seconds, to allow a few surfers the barrel of their life. 

 *I have since learned that at 1/4- 1/2 the size , near 100 people will be competing for the same 4 or 5 wave sets as you, and it's not worth ever going to, unless for a surf lesson, or a lesson on patience. *

    ...

    Today's wimp-out was foreseen.  Early this week when I saw the swell forecast, I told Mackenzie it would probably be too big, and that we'd spend the morning watching surf and drinking cold ones or something you'd expect tourists to do that have no reason to have regret watching natural perfection.  .  .  Unfortunately, the last week I've been building my confidence (going on bigger and bigger waves) , and had planned on surfing today.  There are always inside nuggest to be surfed right?  Well this morning I woke up about 45 minutes b4 dawn with Kenzie at full alert.  Apparently the bike had fallen over, and she thought it could be a clumsy early morning robbery.  That's not really the point I want to make, but it was a poor start, and a feeling of gripe (sickness) had snuck into my throat and inner being.  After not being able to fall back to sleep, I went downstairs to make some honey/lemon tea and wax my board (we got some of the best honey from a lady with bees- $6 a liter).  During the cup, I felt that my physical body was exhausted.  Unable to perform %100 in critical conditions that call for full focus and strength.  I'm happy to say that I got over my self-loathing quicker this Friday than the last, and happily went down to watch the heroes put their lives on the line with each passing set.  This was followed by an amazing buffet style lunch at our Israeli friends cabin, composing of black beans, salad, and fresh Schnitzel !  OOOOh so good!  Pictures of the surf and food will be posted soon :)

    ....

    So Mackenzie is over being at the computer place, but I gotta let you know about a few fun waves and wipeouts i've gotten myself into first, and I'll close some deets (details grandma) about our place we're renting that makes Oaxaca so beautiful.  

   ....
  
    Ok so in laymens terms, getting barreled means to be surrounded by moving water, and to exit without harm .  This is the goal of every surfer (at least it should be!)  The best way is to exit through the end of the tunnel, but will be counted if exiting under the falling curtain of a close-out wave.  I am down here to make it out of barrels.  This is the destination, but everyone knows it's the journey that really makes a trip.  It's been a great journey so far, and even though I've made it out of two tubes so far (one via doggy-door, one via the end of the tube),  I still haven't got the firehose spray exit I so want.  I realize that today was a good opportunity, but there is plenty of force and size every other day of the week to spit me out of a turquoise cavern.  

    Let me tell you, if I had the energy to surf twice each day, and still make it to the internet place to post about it, I would.  Each session is full of ups-and-downs.  Each encounter with the townsfolk on the way to and from is unique and full of fresh fruit, laughs, and misunderstandings .  Each day has its' own way, and I wish you were here to experience it.  I wish I could pack each one of my friends and family down here to enjoy the amazing lifestyle under the sun and surf.  So here are a few waves I remember from the first week+ of surf

.1st Session Notes:

.. Praying the whole paddle out. Prayers of peace and protection.  I make it to the lineup with other surfers.  Prayers of gratitude.

.. 1st wave in a year= made drop, slow turn into barrel and then pitched from board onto shallow sandbar

.. 2nd wave= called into by latino yelling GO GO GO in english, in accent. Now i MUST go.  It's a left.  Frontside for me.  Didn't make the steep drop.  Faceplant on perfect wave.  Now smiling cuz got 1st real beat down on shallow sandbar in what feels like forever. water temp 86 degrees!

.. 3rd wave= Steep backside drop, i see the same latin guy from my peripheral paddling back out, watching.  The wave holds off and slows down long enough for me to do a turn and cut back into the power section, I hop up high on face of wave and grab rail to steady balance and try to make it down the line. The wave runs and i'm left riding into darkness. Latin guy sees and gives props. The girlfriend who is sunbathing sees wave and gives props later :)

.. Somewhere around the 6th or 7th wave I am happy with a late morning session and call it good.  A great first day back to the sea.  I'm Perfect.  I catch a wave and hit an edge trying to pull into draining left barrel.  I watch as the lip crashes into my chest, picking me up and throwing me back onto the ocean floor, pinning me there for a few long seconds.  I surface to my board in one piece.  The next wave comes in and is 2wice the size it has been.  Fear returns to gut. I get a good beating, and the following wave measured the same 14ft or so, and managed to whip me onto the beach. To safety.  To my beautiful girlfriend. To cocos and mangos.  Will think about fear later.

. Early week note:

I have been surfing ok backside, but can't seem to surf frontside to my ability.  Steep drops have not been made that I know I can make.  Also been hitting edges and wiping out more than necessary.  Will continue to work on correcting tiny mistakes.

. Mid week note:

Surf has dropped a bit.  Still overhead barrels.  Making most of the drops now.  Have been taking off on waves sideways, and pulling straight into barrels, skipping the bottom turn.  Still the only barrel recorded (in my mind) has been a small head high nugget that a boogie-boarder dropped in on, forcing me to exit via the doggy-door (under the lip).  Lip knocks one of my feet off the board.  Desperate for a successful barrel, i count it.  *author laughs at bitty barrels when in waters known for tubes you can drive a semi through*

. Today's note:

    Yesterday's surf was big.  It was the first day of my early morning wake up with the sun routine.  There weren't as many waves, and about 100 guys in the water, spread out through three A-frame peaks (this means the surfer has two options: left breaking wave, or right).  I choose to sit at less-crowded peak that offers mostly big left breaking closeouts, occasionally staying open for a good one-timer.  I catch a couple smaller waves (solid overhead and a half closeout walls) to warm-up.  Then I position myself for a big set wave. 

     My first attempt for a big juicy barrel was met with the morning's hard offshore winds.  Unfortunately my brazitos (little arms) weren't able to counter the strong wind, and I was left around the top of the wave with the lip (as opposed to pushing down and dropping the face).  I found myself on top of the lip, standing on the board but not on the wave.... I kicked the board away from where the lip would detonate, and dropped.  It felt like i landed on cement, and a small car landed on me right after that. 

    I paddle back out, knowing i need to paddle faster, and get up to my feet earlier.  Twenty minutes later, i have another chance.  I make it to my feet.  A person drops in on me. I hoot them off.  He pulls out.  I pull in.  The lip throws out in front... Im in it. I drag my left hand to slow myself under the curl, and lean my weight to my back foot to stall some more.  I ride it another 50 yards, 30 of which I'm where I want to be: in the shade.  I come out of the tube fading low to the bottom, and reapproach the lip by throwing my tail at it, hoping to shed the speed.  It worked but not as smooth as I hoped, and I didn't stay connected to the board to ride that turn back to the bottom.  But I didn't care, I got TUBED!

I paddle straight out and have now entered the next lineup over.  My wave took me to the next peak, and the most powerful peak in Puerto Escondido: A dominant right hand break that throws out as far as it does tall.  A square barrel some call it.  The lineup for the left starts another 50 yards down, and on this day there are over 60 people with surfboards or boogie boards hoping to get the barrel of a lifetime.  I see Rusty and Greg Long.  Two heroes of mine.  *Youtube the names if you want to see some pros do work.* 

Suddenly it feels much bigger. I mean, Greg Long is in the lineup, it must be HUGE!  

I take position in the lineup for the right, sitting underneath Greg some 8 yards or so, and maybe 5th person in to the right, basically just hoping for whatever scrap comes my way.  I don't want to paddle battle any of the other 5 dozen folks who have waited in line for the last 2 or 3 hours. . . Somehow, after 10 minutes of silence, a big lump passes by Greg and he watches it as if it has meaning.  It was mine, there was only one other person who might have a go, but it was mine to be caught.  I paddled as if an Eddie Aikau winner was watching me, scratching to get into a wave whose lip is already feathering from the offshore breeze.  I know I'm late, but I know I can't pull out.. I push down on my board and take the elevator drop. . Somewhere around the bottom I grab my outside rail with my left hand, and reach for the face of the wave with my right.  The lip is throwing out in front of me and I'm surrounded by water but riding dry,  just as I grab the wave to steady myself.  A giant hand reaches out from under the lip and I hear a distinct ''click''.  A super legit underwater camera housing!  Holy smokes I feel like I'm already on the cover of some propaganda filled surf mag, and I lose my focus on exiting the wave.  

    The smashing I took was large, but nothing compared to what was about to come... 

    Many people surf Puerto Escondido without a leash when it is big, because it is one of the only places you want to be separated from your lifeline: the surfboard.  The surfboard can drag you into the torrential bullying of the wave, whereas when you're swimming you have the option of diving deep under the wave, and surfacing in the deep water quite easily.  . . 

But I prefer to have the leash on because it offers a guide to the surface and air, when a lot of the beatings at a good beach break will leave a person wondering which way is up.  

So anyway, I find my leash connected to my left ankle, and climb the thing till I touch board. Then i grab it and we float to the surface together.  All good right?  

WRONG!  

I turn to see the next wave of the set, quite large, on track to land on my head.  I had what felt like forever paddle out and meet my doom, but if I had paddled towards the beach it would have been worse.  The offshore wind held the wave up longer than neccessary, and even though I knew I had no way of duckdiving deep enough to escape its' ferocity , i tried.  Instantly I felt as if my body were being ripped into a million pieces, and thrown into a 15 ft washing machine cycle set to permanent press.  The ocean floor was actually soothing this time, because at least now i knew where i was. ! 

Anyway, I came out of the ocean after the next wave did the same thing, and I was grinning like I just won the Eddie myself .  Those beatings were a small price to pay for the Love of the Mother Ocean.


But hey, they're kicking me off the computer to shut down for the Mexico vs Panama match! Love you guys and thanks for listening and supporting me/us!

Nico