Tuesday, December 4, 2012

The 72 Hour Rule

Is good surf worth it?
We have been having a lot of rain over the last week here in the Bay Area.  Four windy, draining storms in a row.  San Francisco reminded me more of Seattle.  And Seattle probably reminded itself of Seattle.  My buddy in Seattle posted that he was getting drenched and another buddy, a surfer who lives up in Portland, said they were getting hammered too.  So I guess the whole upper half of the left coast was washed in. 

But I was hopeful to get a session in.  Couple of my buddies, along with some twitter friends were saying that the surf was alright, but only in between the fronts.  One friend of mine said he caught a mind blowing left out at Boats in Linda Mar.  He said he shared the lineup with only four guys.  Three of them regular footers and one goof.  He said the regs were just going for closeout rights and he and the other goof were enjoying some really great lefts.

Another buddy told me that he was out and the waves were so big and wompy that he had trouble getting back in.  That got me craving.  You know me and my goal, and getting into big and wompy fits those conditions.

My wife, being the caring person that she is, insisted that I stay out of the water.  She understands the "72 hour rule".  But I was craving some waves like Santa craves cookies.  All the swell monitors and buoys were all saying the same thing.  Blown out energy.  I just needed to find the right spot.

According to Surfline, "Bacteria in urban runoff have a limited life span so after three days they either diffuse in the water or die off. Three days is a general rule of thumb, not a hard and fast rule."  I know and understand this rule.  I know what the consequences of my actions "could" be if I take that chance.  But, I'm a hard headed brown boy, and I'm always willing to take that chance.

I surfed on Saturday despite my wife's advice.  I decided to surf because all my buddies surfed and didn't show any signs of sickness.  I decided to surf because there was swell.  I decided to give into my addiction despite my conscious telling me otherwise.  And you know what, I had an epic session.  Probably one of the best sessions I had in the last three weeks.

The After Math...


I woke up Sunday and had the sniffles.  I didn't have much of an appetite either.  By the second football game, I couldn't hear through my right ear.  By the Sunday night game, I was out like a light, snuggling under the blankets.  My wife had the "I told you so" look written all over her face.  Now here I am, better then I was on Sunday, but still not strong enough for the demands of my nine to five.  Could have I went in?  Possibly, but it doesn't help that I would be walking around, passing on this particular foreign, bay bug that probably nobody is immune too. 

Was it worth it?  Not really.  Surf will always be there and the world isn't going to end like everybody thinks it will on the 21st.  So there will be more swells too.  In hindsight, I should have been strong and stayed home.  But like I said before, I'm a hard headed brown boy.

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