I spent most of Saturday being a conceded surf bastard. Somehow, I got it in my head that I will find good surf somewhere down south, where the onshore winds are milder. I was partially correct, except for the fact the SC is very tide sensitive, and I should have pulled myself out of bed earlier than 8 o'clock. The last few times we drove down to SC, we're actually stopping at spots along the way, contemplating a go out at the more desolate breaks; hoping to score some uncrowded gems. Twas not the case on Saturday. We pulled into a beach I've been wanting to familiarize with; but 70 of my closest friends were eager to greet me. **I don't have 70 surf buddies. Just an exaggeration on how many people were out.
We shot past the rest of the coast and pulled into the W.side to see if the Lane was actually doable for us. "Not yet, grasshopper". By the time we got to the East Side, the tide was fairly high, and there was still one hour before high tide. Crap, looks like we are going to get skunked, after dedicating to such a long drive.
We ended going back to the spot where all my friends were hanging out. Except they had all left and the waves looked bigger than the AM. Anyhow, I decided to jump in and try for some waves. By the time we got out there, a big set came through; it was bigger than anything I had tried to escape before. Then I started to get uncomfortable out there. Am I not supposed to be out here? What the fuck am I doing in sets that were way overhead?
I managed to escape a few more sets before calling it quits. There really isn't anything like watching a 6-7 foot wall just build in front of you, knowing that it will guillitone down on you and smash you upside the head. I got caught in one of these because I didn't duck dive far enough under. The lip just took me and turned me upside down and spun me around. That's when I tucked my tail between my legs and came in.
So what's the moral of the story? It is always bigger than it looks on the beach! I truly forgotten this golden rule. However, towards the end of my so called session, I started to calm down a bit and actually wanted some waves. But my brother paddled in, after swallowing a bunch of water.
We both looked at each other, and knew that this is something that we'll have to conqueror. It probably won't happen till next year, but I know I want a piece of these waves. So now onwards to more mental and physical prep for it.
Contrast this to a year and a half ago, when I was afraid to just paddle out a winter lineup on a small swell day at LM. Those same uneasy feelings came back when I hit this spot. When I feel my stomach start to churn, I would look back at the beach and say, "Damn it, I want to be back there and reassess the situation"
The swell wasn't that big and I didn't really see much of the south rolling through. Most of the waves were wind swells that brewed off the coast. Maybe I'm just freaking out for no reason, but I know that the fear is there. I'll face it a little at a time, and perhaps one day, I'll be throwing hard cutbacks off a top turn; and tuck into one of those time stopping tubes!