I expected Playa Grande to be fairly exploited after twelve years. The last time I was here, the biggest crowd I had ever encountered was probably ten people.
As we pulled into the parking lot yesterday afternoon, I surrendered to a certain hopelessness. I realized that I would probably never experience this place as it had once been. There were cars everywhere, and on both sides of the parking lot, probably twenty five of them. But, we were there, and I joined Helen and her friend Matt from Huntington Beach for the walk down to the ocean. Oh, look! The clean lines were bowling up at about 4 to 6 feet, and were being shared, wrong word probably, by about fifty rabid surfers.
At that moment, the wind turned onshore. Welcome back!
It was not as bad as it seemed, really. It was ridiculous with the high tide and the backwash and every manner of person out there. One guy kept talking to me who looked just like Santa Claus. I think he has been here in the tropical sun a bit too long. He just was not making any sense, so I kept my distance. There were a few good waves to be had, but this was mainly a readjustment go out. When I walked back up the beach afterwards, it looked like Huntington Beach. People were everywhere, dogs, kids. All I could do was sigh.
But, as Alan Weisbecker says, hang in.
This morning I was nervous, and had actually talked to Helen about going back to Avellanas. I really felt like I had ridden my last Playa Grande wave.
This was probably my favorite wave, and I have ridden many all over the world. But, she wanted to go early, anyway, and now I love her more than ever for making us do that. Because this morning was the best yet.
When we drove into the parking lot, there was no one. Are you listening? NO ONE. No guard. No one.
We grabbed our boards and jogged out there just as a jeep with three boards piled on it raced into the lot and Helen frowned, GEEZ, What is the rush? Once we were on the sand, we could see there were only about four or five people out, and the waves were fantastic! It was about a foot or two overhead, with some bigger, spookier sets. The water was a deep green blue and the sky was clear!
I raced into the line up, spooked at first by an outside set that loomed up, and I duckdived it just as its sister raced in behind. Oh, just go! I took off on the walling left, it seemed way over my head. I wish I had a photo of that one, what a way to start your session. The Firewire felt like a rocket, and today it was put to the test. It just went everywhere. It almost seemed as if it grabbed my feet and said Go Go GO! Some guy asked me how I liked it, saying how he had a Quad Firewire he loved, and we talked about how they take surfing to a different dimension. I felt so good out there today, and I remembered why Playa Grande is my favorite wave. It jacks up, walls up, and tapers perfectly, so you can just fly all around or stall for a tube, although today was borderline too big for that, and I never saw any one get tubed. I had a left that I was inside for a bit, but this was more just open steep faces to cut back on and practice off the tops. When you would look down the line as someone dropped in, it was just gorgeous.
Picture this blue wall, heaving and pitching out and racing along a forgiving sand bottom, all warm and crystal clear.
I felt bad for Helen. She was on her new 5 6 JS, and I just know it is too small for her. She listens to all these guys who are shredders, and they tell her what size board she needs to be riding, but they do not take into account that she needs to CATCH the wave, first. I saw her try so hard all morning to catch the big blue walls, only to get pitched, or miss them, due to lack of board length. I had to face the fact that I am not as young and strong as I once was, and my upper body strength is limited. I like more rail in the water, too. Those little eggs are fun in certain waves, but today was not the day. I did not even want to try it. So, we stayed out until the tide finally started to drop and it was not as picture perfect. Although, as we walked back up the beach and I looked out over the vista, I swear, some of those waves were right out of a dream...
Okay, reality check. On the way back home, we saw an ambulance and a car stopped in the road. I looked over to see two road bikes, and one had BOTH wheels tacoed. A shiver ran up my spine. I have only seen 3 road bikes this week here, total. One guy was kitted out just outside Liberia, and as he raced along the road, no bike lane, I looked back at him and smiled. We made eye contact and he gave me the biggest smile! Hey, brother! Be safe! This is the last place I would EVER ride a road bike. There are NO BIKE LANES, and the cars pass so close, even when you are walking, that if you stuck your arm out even a little they would graze you. I do not know why this is. Even when Helen drives, and there are no other cars on the road, she drives right up next to any pedestrian as if it is an unspoken rule that you must get as close to that person without touching them as possible. People speed down these narrow winding roads, and God help you if you are on the curve as they are coming around it. Someone hit Helens cat night before last, and Evan was burying it when I came back from breakfast. Animals are roaming free everywhere and it just creates so much anxiety in me whenever we go anywhere! It makes no sense.
OKAY, here is another reality check. If you are following this little surf trip, maybe you remember my little Utopia statement? That little bugger that kissed me while carrying a flower asked me to play RAMPAGE with him last night.
Sweet, dear Daniel.
I offered him one of the cookies I bought, just before we played, and he grabbed it and wolfed it down without so much as a single gracias. Then, out of the blue, during our team effort to destroy the city, he started wailing on me in the game! Porgue, Daniel, porgue? Meanwhile, Clorita, the white bulldog Helen owns that looks like a pig, is outside licking her chops and knocking over the cage that holds the kittens that lost their mom to a crazy driver night before last...
Utopia lost.
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