Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Crappy Story......

Gets me every time.

It seems like it was just about the same time of year as it is now only a few years back. There was one of those choice high pressures holding over the coast while the lines where fetching from the south, pushing into shore with perfect power and posture . I had been surfing my tookus off and missing a whole lot of class most likely. I blew my fin off on my shin surfing D street or something and my other hot stick had snapped surfing Deemers the day prior. In need of some rocker and more than one fin I found myself having to ride a yellowing, duck-taped, ten pound piece of suck that I had dug out from the garage at my old house. I re-waxed it and put some stickers on it and told myself it would ride fine, if the waves are good enough you can ride anything right?

The next morning I peeled out of bed and rendezvoused in the kitchen with my roommate for some coffee as we quacked about the surf and the board I was riding. We were both a bit surfed out from the past three days of marathoning but there was still swell in the water and the wind was still on vacation so naturally we couldn't resist. We rolled down to the beach casually, thinking maybe we might not surf if it was just ok or if the tide was a bit off. As we pulled down onto the strand I was fumbling for my coffee or a cd or something and I hear mike's voice stumble, " HOLY SH!#!" My head snapped up quickly, half expecting to be ready to hit a cat or something and I look south toward Wisconsin and there's a hundred A frames all breaking at once as far as the eye can see. The sun was still new, casting its light gently across the face of each closing tunnel that was exploding on the sand. It was generously over head and at any moment you could see three to five black silhouettes tucking into their secret cavernous discoveries. Never before had or have I seen such perfect, precise and continuous beach break riddle the shore in SD county (I don't surf Blacks that much). There was an endless swirl of foam and whitewater on the inside and the first fifty feet off the surface of the ocean was a glowing, foggy mist. It was as if there was a marine layer just at the coast but it was just the watery shrapnel from each fanning lip and crashing eruption of the thousand waves that had already lived and died that morning. THE SURF WAS GANGBUSTERS!

Now, I don't exactly know how sheer excitement and a little bit of fearful adrenaline stimulate the nerves in your stomach, namely the ones directly in charge of getting rid of what you ate the meal before but mine sure as hell go bonkers when the surf is good. When the surf is firing I feel like every second I'm not in the water is like three minutes long, every stop sign is like five o clock traffic and I'm just about willing to park on some one's lawn and pay the towing bill later if I have to. On this morning we were lucky enough to cram Mike's truck into a spot right on the Pacific St. and he was getting shacked before I even found my wetsuit, he's one of those guys that does everything fast. As I'm frantically pulling on my wetsuit my stomach is frantically trying to tell me there is an emergency drop off that needs to be made asap or something very bad may happen! Confused and anxious as all hell I can not see or think of a single place within a reasonable distance to let out the beast that's knocking on the door louder and LOUDER! The surf is freaking going off and to make matters worse I see Mike take off on a bomb and disappear behind a giant shimmering curtain. AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! With my brain clouded and all reasonable judgement disabled I spot a semi secluded corner near some dumpsters at the a base of one of the beachfront apartment units. There was no choice at that point, I was either going to having one big, ugly unwanted scene on the sidewalk in the middle of the bustling morning passersby and surf checkers or I was going to be a rotten SOB and let this thing lose next to those dumpsters. The choice was made and after twenty two seconds of rip roaring relief I was FREE! I'm scrambling back across the parking lot toward the truck when I hear " HEY! What the F@#& were you doing over there?!" I crank my head back and see a haggard dude in a robe with a cup of coffee in his hand up on the balcony staring down at me with the look of death, willing to come down and snap my neck but much too lazy and fat. I say, "nothin" as I continue, hastening my jog I think to myself "holy sh#!".......literally! With residual adrenaline from the dumpster incident and a new shot from being called out I'm kind of smiling, a little shaky and more eager than ever to get in the water. I get back to the truck grab my rad board from the back and start jogging up the sidewalk, just as I'm going to cross the street an O'side Cop rounds the corner on the sidewalk. Staring right at me he yells, " HEY! YEAH YOU!STOP RIGHT THERE!" I bring my jog to an idle and my stomach drops in a new way, I'm totally busted! Just as I'm about to start fumbling some lame excuse out of my mouth the cop continues his glare right on over my shoulder as he marches right by me with his hand on his baton. WTF? I look behind me and see a token o'side strand crankster walking up the sidewalk behind me as the cops overpower him in their questionable jock-like way. I cross the street as my legs are ready to give out from so many mixed signals of stoke, fear, adrenaline and disbelief. I finally make it out to line up and see Mikey out there shaking his head with a smile like the Cheshire Cat as he points down the way to someone getting drained. I shake my head with a smile just as big but it's not the waves I'm buzzing about. I surfed for a solid three hours that day on my yellowing piece of suck, pulling into some really nice rooms and getting absolutely destroyed on every single one of em'. I like to think I surfed like crap on one of the best days I've ever been out because of my board, but maybe it was because I suck in general, or maybe just maybe it was the sh!##y experience I had that morning that threw me off. Still don't know. -Bloggins-

Friday, September 10, 2010

Matuse #2

This is the scene where it went down. Last night while closing the shop, I threw my Matuse #2 out the door to this area in front of the shop. I then grabbed two boards and set them down next to the wetsuit. Finished locking up and got ready to go home.
I'm not sure what happened previously. I don't think Matuse #2 has seen Matuse #1 since the fiasco on the freeway, therefore they would'nt have talked about the mini vacation #1 took. This leads me to believe #2 read my post about the freeway, which is hard to believe because he has been in my truck and out surfing these past few days. So now I'm wondering if #2 has telepathy abilities, mind reading, etc. Either way, I think there must have been some kind of a jealousy issue going on with the two suits.
It appears that #2 also needed some time away. Unloading the truck at home last night I had a very familiar feeling that I had just recently. My Matuse #2 was nowhere to be seen. How did I not see it lying next to the two boards? Did it hide? Does my vision cut out after a hard day at the shop? Is it a chameleon? Maybe an octopus? Somehow #2 got wind of #1's night in the streets and just had to try it out-fair enough. This time I knew exactly where he was staying that night, so it would be an easy find in the morning.
On the way to surf DMRMOD I stopped at Mitch's to pick up my delinquent wetsuit. Much to my dismay, #2 was gone. Yep, good karma gone bad. Now if it was a chameleon, I guess he could have walked somewhere. But we all know that a Matuse wetsuit is not a chameleon. The only option I can think of is somebody picked up my #2 for reasons I will never understand. I mean I pee in that thing at LEAST 4 times per session.....

Tuesday, September 7, 2010


...wetsuits are not here yet-end of september. But they are really good suits. Check this out-
Surfing Sunday night. Tried out the Joe B. 5'8 Simster quad. InSaNe off the line speed, but
thats another story. Had a few cool ones on the beach after the sesh. Head over to the
local pub for a burger and some pints. Hang the Matuse full suit on the tailgate of my truck.
Kevin puts his long board in the truck, covering the suit. Time to go, move the board over
but don't even notice the wetsuit. (darn pints) Take the freeway from Solana to La Costa ave.
Unload all the boards and gear, but where is the Matuse? Call Kev to see if it's in the parking lot. No dice. Totally bummed. Favorite wetsuit ever. Wake up early to surf the next day, with
missing Matuse heavy on my mind. Drive to the pub parking lot, no dice. Roll up Lomas to I-5,
still, nothing. Bummer. Surf check says eddy is back strong, surf is blown to bits. Double turds.
Heading home with my tail between my legs. I spot a small black pile on the side of the freeway-NO WAY! Matuse! Back track to the on ramp where it was seen. Pull right up to it
and get out. Car goes by BLARING the horn and I get the look of death. I politely wave with
my middle finger high. Go around the front of the truck to re-unite with Matuse, and, it's,
a DIRTY SWEATSHIRT! AAAHHHRRRGGGG. Rat farts. Back down the road, headed home. I
think thats three bummers so far. Oh well. Guess I'll go back to bed. What's that? Another
unknown black pile of who knows what on the side of the freeway. By now I'm at Leucadia
Blvd. "That's got to be it." Super braking stop to quick reverse. "I think I see taped seems!"
Jump out and there she is. Miles down the road. Surely run over by at least a few cars. Some
road dirt and a small hole in the ankle is the only damage. SO PSYCHED! Matuse is back! I
guess she wanted a taste of the streets, or just to get away for a night. So if you have been
spending a little too much time with your Matuse, maybe she needs to get away for a bit.
But don't worry cause Matuse is built FREEWAY TOUGH!

Thursday, September 2, 2010

The Skinny...

on these wide boards is fun/speed. Thats right, I said it-Fun/speed.
If you have not tried, you do not know. Fun/speed is the way to go.
Twins, tris, quads, anyting you want, ANYTING.
ORIGINAL Mini-Simmons by Joe Baugess are in no way bogus. Solamente
real deal.
5'4 quad, 5'6 quad and tri, 5'8 quad and tri. Twins 5'10, 6'2, 6'4.
Free T-shirt with board purchase, eh? Si mi hermanos, si.
Hand shaped-hand delivered by this guy. Thanks Joe!
Premium EPS cores by White Hot Foam.These go really fast in the water
and out the door. They're HOT! White Hot! Get 'em while....they.....
are.....still here? OK, thats enough.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Holy Crap Cap'

Captain fins made a long awaited fin delivery to the shop. Unfortunately we only received about an 1/8th of the order so these things might be hard to come by real soon. So uh, for now we will just play with em until you buy em.