Turn On It, Tune Out, Drop In

SW WIND 20 TO 25 KT WITH GUSTS TO 30 KT...BECOMING S 30 TO 35 KT WITH GUSTS TO 40 KT LATE. COMBINED SEAS 13 FT DOMINANT PERIOD 14 SECONDS.

A few short days back, after a brief respite from slaggish sideways rain mixed with swirling undecided angry winds torn by sleet, hail and onshore winds hellbent out of the Aleutians we were were treated with suny days of head high surf. Thank you. Now things are all fuckered up again...the dog fell down on the icy deck, I fell down on top of her, she bit me, I swatted at her, she yelped and cowered and wouldn't take a shit. Now what? I had a 102 temperature on Friday, delirious, sweating, curled into a ball weekend. Monday comes, time for work. Don't even pack the board, be real. A) It's pretty big. B) I'm pretty weak C) I have a shit ton of work to do even if it is at the beach. D) All of the above. Answer: D. So no board, take a look this AM and I am actually happy I haven't packed 2 surfboards, wetsuits and hope into my car for a 2 hour ice covered drive to surf's 7th circle of hell. It looks like and is total crap. Still, I stare at it for about a half hour. There's one (cough, hack, gag, spit). Oooohhh, look at that one. (Course it would have been certain death to paddle out. Well, maybe not death but likely injury and helicopter rescue (if anyone could even see you out in that mess). So go to work, and talk talk talk talk talk for 2 straight hours. My sore throat just got sorer. Didn't answer about 8 phone calls. And, what's this? Only 84 e-mails! That'll be fun to sort through later. But like all things, the day comes to an end and I head out. It's 4pm, might as well see if it's cleaned up. It hasn't, it's shitty, onshore, massive and the water is moving like a river. I stare, but realize I want to make it over the pass before dark and avoid the ice and night vision deal. Hang a u-turn, go 20 yards and...clink!... WTF was that? Now horrendous screeching coming from the vehicle, like demons escaping the very depths of hell only they're in my imported Japanese wagon. Lame! I get out and lokk underneath. Nothing. And that pretty much exhausts my analytical diagnosis skills with automobiles which went the way of the carburator in like 1985. I limp down the road, car emitting horrifying racket for about a 1/2 mile, eliciting displeased looks and knowing head shakes from all I pass. Luckily, Les Scwhab has free beef and the knowledge to quiet my devil car. An hour and a half later and with no beef I am back on the road, left to contemplate a week likely filled with rain, ice, work and no Surf in Oregon.

So did anyone surf today?