Summer in the Channel

I slept until 8 and woke up not feeling well. My upper body tight and sore, my stomach sour, my eyes puffy and not knowing what I was going to do with my life. I can barely face today. I looked at the campus surf cam. About three guys in the water and some soft toppers and suppers walking down to the beach. I imagined the Saturday crowd at my break. Summertime water people, blech. Well, I’ll be cool and just paddle to move my body and circulate the blood.

The parking lot was surprisingly empty. I really thought it was going to be a fuckfest of families and other type weekend people. Unfortunately, as I was driving up a gal and guy with surfboards turned around when they saw me, followed me in their car and wanted to know where the break was. I begrudgingly told them half a mile and they had to pay for parking.

Another surprise, no one was out when I got to the cliff and sectiony crystal blue 2-footers steeped all over the place. The sky was gray with the sun slowly conquering the morning marine layer and the water was glass, glass, glass. I wasn’t sure where to sit. I started out in front of jailhouse and slowly moved to the point. The well formed southys near the shore were quick, but I needed to be way outside to successfully catch the close-out larger waves in the sets and I had to catch them late and in the curl. Fun.

The couple finally found the beach so I paddled way far out to the point--far and near the rocks. This is what I call McDonalds-looks better than it tastes. And as I supposed, the man followed me—although there were no other people out and lots of other breaks (rude!). The woman paddled after the man. Finally a wave came and I caught it over the rocks and made it look as good as I could. The couple paddled out to where I had been sitting and I paddled back inside where the waves were more consistent, steeper and better shaped. They never looked back. Be a smart surfer.

A novice supper paddled about, not digging his paddle in properly and unable to catch a wave. A school of about 8 women came out and played in the sandy area in front of jailhouse. Summertime water people.
As the tide changed the steepness increased and the consistency was fabulous. I slid down lefts and rights and got inside tight closeouts at the curl. And the sun was bright and the sky blue and the color and clarity of the water amazing. It’s no winter waves, but when you’re not expecting anything, haven’t had anything, and you’re greeted with color and beauty, then you have everything.

I found a piece of olive green seaglass and a cornflower blue both about the size of dimes and a pretty aqua blue green the size of a quarter. After two hours at the beach, I went home and now I’m writing this.

Same Shit, Different Beach

Don went to Mexico, so I went to La Conchita. He left a box of wine and almost a 12 pak, some eggs, the garden's lettuce, instructions for cable, and the keys to the van. Can I drive a stick! I hadn't planned on using Don's van, but now I feel compelled to at least try and drive it up and down the streets of LC. (At night, with rap music blaring.)

I'm pretty much doing everything Don does.

This morning, I took the dogs down the track and through the north tunnel to the beach trying to beat the 7:10. There were three guys out (more'n usual), fishermen. Riley had to say hi to each one. You know, sit on their feet hi. Then, I went to town for supplies. I got a coffee at the Starbucks. The line was out the door, but the people were friendly. At the fancy, new Carp Albertson's I got some corn tortillas and Hatch green chile. Albertson's is the only store I know that sells this New Mexican condiment and staple. It is the avocado of Albuquerque. I forgot my bag and paid.34 cents for a blue reusable. Carp is bagless. Ask Don about that.

Rincon was pretty flat, but the water was warm and clear. There was one chick on a stand up (she looked like the love interest from Total Recall) and she was going to town on the little cove waves. I paddled up to Indicator. Tide was low and incoming fast. I decided to make it a paddle and a one to three wave minimum. I got a perfect wave. Only knee high, but perfectly shaped and a long, easy ride--style all the way. I parked Ventura County side. Don parks SB.

It's Sunday and also summer, so big groups of bikers go down the PCH. The sound and sight is awesome. I love driving among them, too. You have to know how to drive around bikes. A lot of people don't know how. And then you have those guys who don't know how to ride bikes around cars. Lame. And it's lame times a hundred if you think I'm talking about guys in spandex with Tron hats. Geez, Santa Barbara, smack forehead here.

So, Don got me UNCHAINED, NAKED CHARDONNAY. The box is shaped like it came from a Parisian textile gift shop. Chardonnay is the Meth for women over 40. I don't know why, but especially for those middle class broads. I said "broads".

Wilson slept on my head last night. And just before bedtime Riley went nuts and assaulted my flip flop.

See teethmarks here.

Then, because I was cuddling on the couch with my "blankey" (yes, my "blankey", fuck you) I came out of the bathroom and Riley was raping my blankey in the front yard; ripping my blankey and dragging it, and rolling my blankey in the dog poo yard. I had to fight him head to head for possession. I had no intention of losing. I brought the now torn and smelly blankey, gasping for air, into the living room and placed blankey onto the couch. Wilson trotted up, created a blankey fort and quickly curled up inside, underbite aready.

Riley came bedside and Wilson growled that 'I will go psycho all over you, bitch' growl and Riley relented. Finally, I got sick of their dog drama, told Wilson 'thanks but no thanks' and took possession of my blanket. No one gets to cuddle with my blankey but me.

First day in LC.

While You're Up There, Take A Look Around. Relax.

Next bus to Pahrump!

Glory. Moments. Paradise.

"While you're standing up there, take a look around, (pause) and, you know, relax. You need to relax."  - Ranch Guy, circa winter 08-09.

Man, 2010 is the winter I broke my ankle. January thru March. I met Don soon after I started walking. I think it was early summer. I recall having a shit ass hard time getting up and down the rocks at County Line. Maybe that's why I wanted to go to MALIBU!

"All Day Long"
(Winter 2010)
Photography by Don Jayne

 Well, I don't know, but I've been told
You never slow down, you never grow old
I'm tired of screwin' up, tired of going down
Tired of myself, tired of this town

- (Tom Petty, "Mary Jane's Last Dance")

Shortboarders vs longboarders. Short ride shorebreak or small, long rides. There! Bam! That's the summer around here. But winter, ah sweet, sweet, virile winter. I've yet to have thee; and I wonder of this coming season. I hope I can get my new board before it really hits and I don't get frustrated or the shit beat out of me by the water. The broken ankle my first winter; roller derby my second winter; and now what is my excuse? I hate my gear? I really do have too much board at the moment. We'll see what Malcolm comes up with. Never had a new one. But I've been through quite a few and have had some nice ones.

Some nice ones.

Full, Low Moon

The moon is full and low and staring right over Campus Point. I could surf it if there were waves and another willing surfer.

But there aren't any waves this night. I did find some north of my sweet spot today, noonish. Had to contest a whiskery sea lion for it, but I got some nice rides. There were three little boys, about 12, shivering on the beach holding their boogie boards. I waited, and I had to swim around to keep away from that sea lion, but I chose the right wave, a nice one that steeped up and slowly waltzed in. I was surprised when I made the next connection and kept going, but I kept my eyes on those three boys standing on the beach just watching me. Not saying anything, but watching me from beginning to end. The ride ended, they stopped looking, we went on with our lives.

This morning, I found another "embarrassment of riches" as Tbone put it. Today, more than ever. I think I found three rare greens, another periwinkle (found a good sized one Saturday along with a tiny orange shard) and a mysterious smoky, well-loved chunk.

 I had only a short time to hunt this morning, but as I was leaving the Call Box I saw Chris coming to check on the Snowy Plovers. I showed her some of my chunks, particularly the candy apple green. She said to look up depression era vaseline glass. "What?" I wasn't sure I heard her right, but I had. 

I looked it up, but I am still so uncertain what these colors and shapes mean. Sometimes the color is right, but the seaglass here is so flat.

 

Cowboy Up

I told him I'd meet him at Divine Inspiration, the art gallery that featured an exhibit by three local landscape artists, one being a good surf buddy of mine. It's high up on State Street, so it wasn't very busy. They had free wine in the small back gallery and I helped myself to an awesome helping of Chardonnay. He showed up in his ripped flannel shirt and cowboy hat. I hid behind my wine, watching him gaze at the colorful landscapes, that by now, are all so familiar to me.

"Hi Billy," I reached from behind him sliding my fingers down his arm and in one smooth dance step he turned and enveloped me.
We meandered down State, in and out of galleries. We wandered behind the art museum and came upon an atrium of gallery shops with doors propped wide and people slowly streaming in and out and past. We went inside one of the galleries that had a Comer of Refugio in the front window. (Why do I want to say 'winder' instead of window?) One gallery served animal crackers in little cups. We laughed at that but each took one.
Outside the gallery there was a fountain and next to it was the back of a woman on a tall chair singing the blues. Beside her was a piano and a stand up bass player. They all had their backs to us, a small audience seated on folding chairs in front of them. We sat ourselves on the fountain's edge, so that the small audience in folding chairs looked directly at us and it was easy to feel as if we were a part of the show, having a captive audience fixedly watching us.
Billy pulled himself to sit closer to me. It was quite romantic with the fountain, the three piece blues band, and the voyeurs. "Do you want to hear a joke?" I asked. The little blues singer and the band were beginning to pick up in tempo. "Sure," he grinned. We were sitting close and keeping our voices to ourselves. "There were two homeless guys and one of them goes. 'Hey, I just found $20 bucks!' and the other guy goes, 'That's nothing, I found a lady tied up to the railroad tracks and we fucked all day.' 'Did you get a blowjob?' the other guy asks. 'No, I never found her head.'"
Billy twitched a little bit. His mouth opened and then closed and his eyes widened.
I smiled and then I started laughing.
"That's the type of joke a guy tells another guy," he said, still wide-eyed.
I started laughing harder, but he didn't. I guess it's not the type of joke you tell on a first date with a cowboy named Billy Bob. Yes, Billy's middle name is Robert. We stayed there on the fountain edge sharing little personal tidbits with one another, then headed back to Divine Inspiration for more of the free booze.

  I hope Billy Bob doesn't mind that I'm using this picture I took that day.
He sure looks cute riding that dolphin.  And shut up, Ben Franklin! No one asked you.

He was a wonderful kisser and really put on quite a show with his pucker. It was impressive, which is how he wanted to be perceived. These young guys, I thought to myself, showing his wares. I don't normally date guys under 35, but I liked his sense of self. I felt a little shy with him, but he said he didn't care and continued to wrap himself around me or brush against me as we walked down State.
Later on, as I was dropping him off at his place on Yanonali Billy says, "I'm going to find a joke to top your joke." Then he kissed me again and again. 
"Why didn't you just fuck him?" one of my friends asked. "Sometimes that's just all both people want." I like to take my time getting to know people, I said. I don't want some crazy nut job who won't go away because I fucked him. It's like feeding a cat. There's nothing wrong with taking your time. It's interesting to see how people respond in certain situations.

Have Vagina, Will Travel ({})

This here's a little story
'bout a cowboy with a vagina.
Have vagina, will travel.
That's what she said.

She'd get invited
to the best private breaks
and she said
have vagina, will travel

It fit right in her wetsuit
and she never had to use it
but she brought it just in case
It fit right in her wetsuit

the soft sweet playful rights
the hollow lefts
she sat shotgun everytime
have vagina, will travel, she said.
have vagina, will travel, she said.
have vagina, will travel, she said.

There's a new sheriff in town, a new sheriff.

aka: Vaquera Gets the Stoke 

Clara Bow, Surfing Cowgirl 



bustin' broncs in a town in mexico

Dolphins

Dolphins are the most incredible reason for living.
There's that moment you're in the ocean with them
in a wave, in a wave, in a wave
(don't worry, you don't have to watch out for them)

or its a dorsal beside you
parting glass, beside you
surrounding you maybe
bringing your lame ass to shore

Some relationships need no explanation.
(they watch out for you)
kelp-whisper, kelp-whisper

Why do I like watching dolphins?
Or thinking about them
Are they thinking of me?
I'm sure of it when we're together.

http://www.calliebowdish.com/Dolphin2009-10-07mov.htm

Its not easy to write a poem about how much you like dolphins without it sounding 3rd grade.