This is still a good day. Photo: Brigid Lally
It goes without saying that every surfer, from a pro to a first timer, understands that there are relationships that quickly form with particular locations or even individual waves, whether it’s a far off exotic location or a little beach break around the corner from your house.
I’ve always been fascinated with the fluctuating relationships between these rolling hills of water and their surrounding environments. The roles they play, both in the physical and emotional experience of surfing, can turn into a dangerous and cyclical negative relationship – and I am not proud to admit this, but it took me more time than it should have to understand this.
Living here in San Clemente, the diversity of waves is boundless. This diversity plays greatly in my favor as an avid “surf something, somewhere, every day” type. But it wasn’t always this way.
At the end of the road lies my “good” wave spot. When anything sizeable or with a long period appeared on the radar, I chose my battles wisely, but I always knew that the long wait for one of those crisp lipped, cobblestone point waves would be more than worth the ample companionship would I found in the water. A veritable sea of surfers, nearly shoulder to shoulder, all waiting for the same thing.
For me, a balance is vital to regular stoke maintenance. There is a little beach break just beyond my good wave spot. Tucked away around the corner and down a small tree laden hill, it hides me from the world, both physically and mentally. When the crowds got too thick, I’d head there.
This retreat became my respite. I found myself able to breathe; able to get a wave without the hassle or aggression. With a friendly wave or smile to my daily companions, I quickly found myself hitting my “bad wave spot” more often that the good one. And I started to really enjoy my experience there.
Slowly, my retreat became my regular spot. I sunk into a slight depression – I began to associate those good solid waves at the good wave spot with stress and hassling.
Of course I had. At the slightest notice of something worth a raised heart rate on the charts (which does not take much for me) I would abandon my “bad wave” spot because it represented lesser quality. I’d head to the good wave spot and catch a few amazing waves, but I’d be frustrated and with the vibe in the water.
Forgoing my ever-present addiction to exiting the water knowing I got the finest quality wave within reachable distance that day, I instead opted to take a chance and see what the “bad wave” retreat spot had to offer on a day that I would normally drive right by it.
Sure, Trestles was overhead and crisp lines on the points, and my beach break was probably a few feet smaller. Sure, there were probably a few more closeouts. But with the period dropping, the corners became more frequent, the closeouts opened up into barrels, and the crowd all but vanished down to those so-called good wave spots. They waited in frustration as I pulled in.
Because of that session, I have formed a positive association with what was previously thought of my bad wave spot. I now lack a bad wave spot – I just have a regular go-to along with stand-out options.
Be careful with negative labels. Attitude and outlook are crucial to performance as well as satisfaction, and knowing that you’re not going to have a good time surfing is no way to enter the water. There are no bad waves, just bad attitudes, so one day soon, take a good attitude, on a good day, to a “bad” wave near you… and try to walk out without a grin on your face.
