A funny thing happened on the way to the beach...
I was talking with a friend the other day that had a gnarly gash on his finger and it reminded me of a “funny” story from years ago. Funny now but…not so much at the time.
In California during the winter months and when a swell comes a surfers life changes instantly. I think I read somewhere once that “sick days” and incoming swells were nearly identical. Fortunately for me my boss was a surf rat so running into him after calling in “sick” was not a problem.
Even though we watched the weather forecast closely, for some reason it was always a mad dash at 5 AM to get loaded up and on the road. Countless times I “forgot” this or that. Wetsuits, wax, drinking water, whatever. The stoke was just so intense that the brain only had room for; board, gas money, trunks.
It was on a morning like this that a couple friends tossed our boards (and what we didn't forget) into my van and headed out. The scene in the parking area was always the same. Very little conversation, desperately clawing for gear and running down the trail to be the first in the water.
And then it happened. It what would have made an epic YouTube video years before there was such a thing, while running down the trail I had a total flip-flop blowout. Not the kind where the little rubber plug pulls through the hole but a full blown breakage. The kind where your foot keeps moving while your flop folds back under your foot kind.
Of course the next step on the blown-out side would find a perfect piece of glass to land on. In perfect slow-motion I could see the landing zone in what seemed like 10 seconds before my foot found the glass. Board, backpack, sunglasses and diverse other stuff flying followed by screams, pain, blood and……laughter. Not ME laughing mind you.
So as my buddies never lost a step and continued their dash to the break, I was left on the trail wrapping a bloody foot in an old t-shirt and collecting “parts” After all that anticipation, all those days of ankle-slapping mush, an epic swell and I can´t surf.
A few hours later and on the ride to San Clemente hospital for some stitches, my “buddies” just couldn't stop reminding me. “Dude you so missed it” “Dude it was EPIC” “Dude you shoulda been out there man”
Funny now but….
/V
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2 comments:
Hah ...great story , can totally feel with it ...because...
in the 80s we rented a little house directly on a beach , it was 5 hours of ride to it and we wanted to stay 2 weeks. as we arrived we inspected the house , stuff still loaded in the car , stairs up and down and fully excited for the beach that was just like 5 meters away.
*now up in the waves* we shouted , runned down the stairs ignoring everything...and...
BAAAAAAAAAAM
2 idiots was laying bloody in the sand , the ocean like 2 ft away of our hands , 2 idiots runned through a big glass door on the first day of their trip :D
gosh if i would know who cleaned tthat glass that good i would hire that person to clean my house.
Denise Foxtrot
Ahhh, the many stories of the "thing" that happens to folk when the winter swell comes calling. It's waves over matter...every single time.
Great story V, Mahalo nui loa.
JT
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