Flatness pervades the seascape. Thursday’s child slide at my favorite walled-up double peak – waves were micro but this break can still funnel some power into any sea urchin flatulence that comes down the pike. I had a few nice carves, the sunset clairvoyance was channeling sessions past.
Saturday, the dense air, like a fat bully, sits on the ocean squeezing any ripples out of existence. Back to Burros and back to nineteen hopping bunnies, hopping their little bunny hearts out. A nice drop or two straight into mushing basura. I suppose it’s my own fault – poor choice of vehicle.
Saturday’s grace: local all-smiles young surf shop owner kid (whose been through some rough times) shows up to the line-up with an 8 foot Andreini (with flex fin) that has seen better days, purchased from a friend for $50. It wasn’t a hull and wasn’t a nose rider, I’m not quite sure what exactly it was. I stoked him on his unbeknownst procurement.
