Another One Bites the Dust

The quiver gets smaller and smaller every day. I said good-bye to another board yesterday. I seem to be leaning toward the "less is more" school of thought these days. Now the quiver consists of three and a half boards: two longboards, one mid-sized board and a board so short and bearing so much resemblance to a potato chip that I'm not even counting it as a complete board. I intend to get another board in the mid-sized range, one that's a little longer than the board I'm surfing exclusively right now. Then I'll be straight, at least for awhile.

Soul Brother #1 wanted to do a bike ride today. It's not hard to miss a session for a ride, especially when the conditions are pitifully small. Missing a session is also easier when you're no longer working 40 hours a week in a cubicle. I'm now free to surf during the week. I'm still working, but I'm working from home. I've not felt the need to take advantage of this newfound freedom. In fact, I'm no longer bent on surfing every day (like I was when I started surfing). If the conditions are mediocre, I'd rather do something else (like swim or lift weights) that will improve my surfing fitness. So, I'm thinking two weekdays in the pool and two weekdays in the water. Of course, I still want to surf on the weekends, but I don't have to.

The Long and Short of It

I miss my longboard. There. I said it. I miss being on a longboard. I miss the glide. I miss the trim. I miss the feeling of security. Will that get me back on a longboard any time soon? Probably not (unless my shoulder continues to bother me). I paddled out today on the shorter board. The weren't any waves worth discussing, noting or even lying about. I'm simply putting my time in, trying to get this thing dialed in. It didn't help that I was at the home break dodging waves that jacked up and closed out. I still paddled out. I got a few rides. My pop-up is great at the beginning of a session. But after about an hour, things fall apart quickly. I somehow get stuck in the middle of the pop-up, too tired to keep it all together. It's as if my brain and my body shut down. Once that happens, I flounder on the shorter board. When it happens on a longboard, I can keep surfing. Everything is second nature. On this 7'0", I still need to think about what I'm doing. It's getting easier with each session though.

What would you do if someone approached you to sit down and discuss a possible reality TV show? Was that question vague enough for you? I can't get any more specific since I don't know specifics. Someone apparently thinks there might be some interest in a reality show about black surfers. That person approached the best-known black surfing group about this. The head of that group then approached me and a few others to sit down with the interested party. Here's my question: What's so interesting about black surfers? I can tell you my answer: nothing. What does being black have to do with making surfing anymore interesting or boring (depending on who your audience is) than it already is? I don't get it. And since reality shows are scripted, what exactly would the producers want to disseminate to the world about black folks who surf? I'll go to this little sit down, but it's more out of curiosity than anything else. Frankly, I think my issues related to surfing have more to do with being a middle-aged woman than they do with being black. The one thing I can say about being a surfer who's black is that no matter how much time non-black surfers spend in the sun, I still have a better tan! Aloha ya'll!

Tempted

Ooooo, the things I saw on the cams!!! Lines here. Bombs there. I was definitely tempted. But I'm trying to rest a slightly tweaked shoulder. I even stopped at the home break after dropping off Soul Brother #2 at school. Thankfully, there was nothing there to tempt me. I thought about going in search of surf. I showed some restraint and went home. It's better for me to rest, let the water clean up a little more and wait for the next swell. A former surf blogger emailed me about meeting up at my favorite break. I decided against it since he'd be leaving as I got there and I didn't think I was ready to take the shorter board into meaty surf. I need to take it easy for a bit. Then I'll hit it hard!

Need I Say More?

First Rain Brings Pollution, Toxins to Los Angeles Waters
September 21, 2007
PRESS RELEASE

Heal the Bay today issued a health advisory to Southland residents and visitors to avoid water contact at Los Angeles County beaches for 72 hours, following the area's first significant rainfall after a record drought period.

The county's 5,000-mile storm drain system is designed to channel rainwater to the ocean to prevent local flooding. But it also has the unintended function of moving pollution directly into the Santa Monica and San Pedro bays. After heavy rains, more than 70 major outfalls spew manmade debris, animal waste, pesticides, automotive fluids and human-gastrointestinal viruses into the marine ecosystem.

This pollution poses human health risks, kills marine life and dampens the tourist economy. The so-called first flush is especially worrisome this year, which is the driest in 130 years. Debris and toxins have been accumulating for months on sidewalks, roadways and riverbeds and are now being washed into the storm drains. Exposure to this runoff can cause a variety of illnesses, most frequently stomach flu.

During dry months, Heal the Bay and county health officials urge swimmers to stay 100 yards from flowing storm drains, which have been shown to have elevated levels of known carcinogens and pathogens. Experts agree after a major rainfall that local beachgoers should stay out of the water entirely for at least 72 hours.

"The first heavy rain of the season is a real eye opener about the extent of marine-bound debris in our storm drains," said Karin Hall, executive director of Heal the Bay. "That's why we're working so hard to address the root causes of this kind of pollution."

County storm drains typically handle 100 million gallons of contaminated water and debris each day, but one rainstorm in Los Angeles County can generate nearly 10 billion gallons of water. Sewage treatment plants, which process storm-drain runoff from major pipes in dry months, simply can't handle the excess load during major storms.

Local residents contribute to debris buildup by dropping nearly 1 million cigarette butts on the ground each month, according to L.A. County Department of Public Works estimates. Citizens walk a dog without picking up the droppings more than 82,000 times per month, and they hose off driveways and sidewalks into storm drains more than 415,000 times each month.

During the rainy season, Heal the Bay reminds residents that they can take steps in their own home to take pressure off an already taxed storm drain system. Among them: keep trash out of gutters and storm drains, dispose of animal waste and automotive fluids properly, and avoid overwatering lawns and plants. (Visit www.healthebay.org/waystoheal for more tips.)

Heal the Bay is a non-profit environmental group dedicated to making California coastal waters, including the Santa Monica Bay, safe and healthy for people and marine life. On Sept. 15, the organization last week mobilized 11,000 volunteers who removed 80,000 pounds of ocean-bound debris from county waterways as part of California Coastal Cleanup Day.



Photos taken by Heal the Bay on Friday, September 21, 2007

Make a Wave Project

The three of us headed to the home break and made an appearance during my shift. There were folks on the beach. What I found truly disturbing was the sight of folks in the water. Why would anyone get in the water at an L.A. County beach after a major rainstorm? It's not about maintaining the spirit of the surf-a-thon. It's about keeping yourself healthy. In fact, had I been in charge, I would have kept everyone out of the water. Today was a good opportunity to teach people about the harm we're doing to our oceans. What better way to do that than explain that the surfing part of the event was cancelled due to harmful and unsafe water. If it's unsafe for humans, it's certainly unsafe for those beings that live in that water. I guess I'm saying I would have transformed it from a surf-a-thon/party to a protest/teach-in/party. But that's just my take on the event. Folks were on the beach having fun. We played Smashball with Soul Brother #2 for awhile. I didn't want to stay since I'd also been hearing, over the years, that the sand can be as dirty as the water!

I made up for my missed surf session by getting in the pool this morning. I've been doing light hypoxia training over the last few days. I once read that this is helpful in training you for being held down on bigger days. Perhaps that's true. I'm able to do a length of the pool without breathing. I try to do that about four times each time I'm in the pool. I found that what I do in the ocean also works here. When I first started the hypoxia training, I swam fast in an effort to get to the other end of the pool faster. When I did that, I was unsuccessful. Then I started to think about what I do when I'm getting worked by a winter wave. I don't fight it. I simply relax and wait for the pounding to end, hoping upon hope that I've got enough air to survive the Maytag effect. That's what I do in the pool now. I take a big breath, push off from the wall, swim slowly and concentrate on the black lane line at the bottom of the pool. When I take my time and slow down, that's when I'm successful. Go figure.

Resolution

THE SURF-A-THON. Obviously, now that the rain reached land, I won't be going out in the water. I'm fine with that. What was most important to me was raising money for a good, ocean-related cause. The 24 hours of surfing was, of course, a gimmick. I raised about $600 in funds and goods. That's more important than the surfing. I think we're still expected to be on the beach during our shifts. I'm not sure what we're expected to do for three hours. I'll make an appearance tomorrow. I can't promise I'll go back out there on Sunday (since I won't be surfing).

THE SONG. I'd heard snippets of this song before finally buying the CD. When I actually heard the song in its entirety, I was an instant convert to the religion of Coltrane. Why do I say "convert"? Well, I was raised on jazz. My grandfather was considered jazz royalty in his time. If that wasn't enough, my dad only listened to jazz. I was hearing jazz constantly as a kid. (What's even more interesting is the fact that my mom only listened to classical and soundtracks. Imagine growing up in that house.) Anyway, my granddad and my dad were conservative when it came to jazz. My dad always complained about jazz that sounded like "music lessons". Since I didn't know better and hadn't heard anything but Count Basie, Duke Ellington, my granddad, and the like, I assumed the music my dad despised was terrible. Out of loyalty to my family, I fought my attraction to such music. But it was this song (and the rest of the album) that opened my eyes. It's only now that I realize I don't like the music my grandfather and father loved. It's too . . . hmmm . . . too. No, it's not too anything. What I don't like about the music they liked is that it's not chaotic enough. This is not to say that what I like is better. I just realize that Coltrane, MJQ, and Mingus (which I really began to appreciate after a "Girls' Night Out" at Gracefullee's house) speak to me; the more staid jazz, while enjoyable, does not. I'm even open to some Ornette Coleman. I'm still discovering my jazz tastes. This song is at the top of my list.

THE JOB. I quit the cubicle for good. Cubicles are of the Devil, as are idiot bosses, and companies with no room for promotion. That's not a life I can live. I give credit to those who can do it. I lack the patience for that world.

Enjoy the rain. We need it. Rain, I ain't mad at ya!

It Can't Rain Yet!!!

I know we need the rain. As much as I dislike rain, I'm glad it's on its way. But it cannot rain now. This weekend I'm supposed to participate in the Make a Wave Project at the home break. This is a 24-hour surf marathon. I'm doing two shifts, one on Saturday afternoon and one on Sunday morning. If it rains, I will not under any circumstances get in that water. Nope. Not gonna happen. Rain, can you just wait until Sunday evening, please? Today I finally started soliciting people for donations. Perhaps that was a good move since tomorrow is my honest-to-god last day at that job and everyone is showing me love. Now that I've gotten people to donate, I'm even more excited to participate in the event. Therefore, it cannot rain!!! Rain—no! Surf—yes!

Say Goodbye to Spring(suits)

All it took was yesterday's cold water to put me back in my fullsuit today. Once again, the day began early. I gave the surf reports—notice I'm speaking in the plural—the benefit of the doubt. I actually believed a SW would fill in overnight. As usual, I was sitting at a point break at the crack of dawn, waiting to see the glorious waves just rolling on in. The surf reports said the swell was coming. They must be right this time. Right? When there was enough light to see the water, I knew once again I'd been utterly misled by these so-called professionals. I was prepared though. I'd brought along two boards: the Tyler in the event a point break was actually working and my Soul Performance 7'0" in the event I ended up at a beach break. Upon seeing the sad little water movements which tried to masquerade as waves, I left. Low tide was an hour earlier. The tide was coming up. If the swell wasn't showing when the sun came up, it wasn't going to get any better, especially since this is a low tide spot. Nevertheless, people stood around watching. What did they expect to see? Was someone going to put a few quarters in the wave machine? There was no way I was going to stand around waiting for Santa Claus to bring us some waves for an early Christmas. I headed to the home break.

I was there early. I didn't get right in. I wanted to see what someone else thought of the waves, which were somewhat closed out. Then, R and B drove up. They were going. And when they go, I go. I can always count on them to hit the spot early. It was going to be me and the 7'0". I'd not ridden that board since June 14. The combination of small waves and my dedication to monogamy—it was me and the Tyler all summer—kept me from that board. However, I did promise myself that once I got on this board, I'd stay on it for good. That means the Tyler will be retired to the garage for a few months. This fall and winter I'll stay true to the shorter board, unless a longboard break is calling to me, in which case I'll take the Slick. Anyway, I felt pretty good on the shorter board today. Since there were so few people out, I wasn't feeling self-conscious. I actually caught some waves . . . with honest-to-goodness pop-ups. I realize now that the transition to this shorter board won't be as horrible as I thought. I still put too much weight on my back foot. I learned to stop doing it on the Tyler. I'll need to work on that with this board too.

Not Worth Writing Home About

This will be quick since there's not much to say. Back in the O.C. Expected some swell in the water. Found none. Caught a few waves. Then the place went flat. Not just a little flat. Flat flat flat (at least where I was hanging out). Can live with those conditions when it's warm. But it wasn't. Warm, that is. My friend and I wore springsuits. Guy in the parking lot told friend (who is male) he'd be a soprano when he came out. That guy was right. Water was damn cold. Spent most of the session shivering. Feet weren't pleased. Rode the Slick. Transitioning down to my 7'. Stupid move. Needed a log for today's conditions. Oh well. At least I got wet.

A Wave Without a Shoulder . . .

is like a day without sunshine. Let's just say that even though the sun was out, it seemed overcast in the water. I think it's now fair to say I am not a big fan of El Porto. I went there today at CYT's behest. She likes it there. I'm finally ready to throw in the towel. It's really not a break for longboards. Granted, we were there when the tide was on the low, board-busting closeouts side, but still! The shape of that wave is such that the fun factor for me is almost non-existent. In other words, longboards need not apply. Yeah, I've been there and had fun on a few occasions. More often than not, I'm looking at waves with steep faces, too steep for a big stick. Perhaps I'll like it more when I dial in my shorter board. Perhaps I'll never know. From here on in, I'll just say "no" to El Porto.

You Know You've Reached Middle Age When . . .

you receive a card inviting you and a guest to the celebrate the 50th birthday of one of your contemporaries. In my mind, this guy will always be a teenager. When I think of him, I picture him and that hair. I picture that boy I had a crush on when I was a teenager. I picture the guy I put on the blog not long ago. What I don't picture IS THE FACT THAT TONY ALVA TURNS 50 LATER THIS MONTH! Now, don't get me wrong. I know I'm a middle age woman. It's likely that I'll live to 88 or, given my genetics, a little longer. I don't think of myself as a young person. Nor do I think of myself as an old person. I'm fine with where I am in my life in terms of age. But for some reason, I'm not fine with the people from my youth getting older. I know it makes no sense. I can't help it. Tony Alva cannot be 50! I'm not too bummed out though. Alva still skates a bit. That impresses me to no end. To be truthful, the fact that I'm 44 and still going strong—literally and figuratively—impresses me too. I'll keep at it for as long as I can. I'm sure Alva will too.

Tool Time

The three of us returned from Home Depot today with four 8' 2 x 4 studs, a box of 8 nails, a hand saw and a mitre box. No, Soul Brother #1 is not building a surfboard repair stand for me. He's not handy . . . at all. I'm going to build the stand myself . . . somehow. Since I'm the only one in the house who's pretty good with tools, I'm really the only one who can build this thing. The book says it's not hard. I'm not so sure about that. I'm not good with measurements or things that require the use of numbers. It's still worth a shot. This stuff didn't cost much. If I ever get the stand together, I'll eventually start doing my own ding repairs. I'll start off slowly. I plan to get a piece of crap board to learn on. I'll need a few more tools if I'm going to get serious. I'll get around to those eventually. First I've got to deal with the task at hand: the stand. I'll post pictures (if and) when it's finished.

We went to the car show at Belmont Shore today. Here are Soul Brother #2 and I shopping for a new surf mobile.
Soul Brother #2 checks out a VW, one that doesn't look anything like our beautiful rust bucket.

I didn't have a favorite car this year. However, I did talk to a guy who restores VW buses. He can be of help as we get ours together. Our bus will never be a show quality bus. There's no fun in owning a car that's so pristine that you're afraid to drive it, park it or let it see the light of day. Right now, I'm leaning toward a dark green matte exterior and a caramel brown interior. At this point, the most important thing to attend to is that engine. We'll be taking her to the mechanic later this week to get started on a 1776 engine that will give it enough power to get up and go down the freeway.

Surf Like a Sumo

Yesterday was the first time in over a year that I surfed on a week day that wasn't a holiday. It was, in a word, confusing. I guess I'd grown accustomed to the crowds, regardless of the fact that I loathed every minute spent surfing practically shoulder-to-shoulder with other people. When I paddled out at RPB yesterday, there were about 10 people in the water. Two and half hours later, there were six.

The session started badly. The warm weather of last week was long gone—not that I'm complaining about that. However, the wind dictated the use of a long-sleeve springsuit. The shorty john is now but a memory. Anyway, the wind was up. The tide was coming up. The sun was nowhere to be found. Those factors right there are usually enough to give me a bad attitude. I knew things were going downhill quickly when I pearled on my first wave. After that horror, I sat there thinking it was pointless to have even paddled out. I thought perhaps I was wrong for wanting to surf alone. Instead of enjoying it, I was a bit freaked out by it. Where did everybody go? I was pitiful. I sat there thinking I'd stay in for about an hour just to make having gotten wet and cold worth my while.

Then a funny thing happened. The sun came out. Then another funny thing happened. The waves picked up. Then the best thing of all happened. I shucked off the negative thoughts and started surfing. I stayed in the water for two and a half hours! My Tyler and I thoroughly enjoyed one another's company. In fact, I got my longest noseride to date during yesterday's session. It was my wave of the day. It wasn't so much for the style points. It was for the giggle factor. When I paddled back out after that wave, I was cracking up. My walk to the nose was perfect. It was effortless. My right foot was planted at the nose for what seemed like an eternity. Then the problem arose. It was time to walk back and I didn't want to blow it. I still suck pretty badly at the walk back. So here I am, doing my nice little Cheater Five down the line, wondering what I'm to do about getting back to the tail. I know that walking back will end in disaster. What to do, what to do? Well, have you ever seen a sumo wrestling match? Before the actual fighting begins, the wrestlers go through this traditional warm-up that involves, among other things, kicking your leg out to the side and putting your foot back down with a loud stomp. The wrestler ends up in a wide-legged squat. I essentially did that move in order to get back to the tail. I didn't walk. I didn't shuffle. I did this:I know it was a full on donkey move. It made me laugh because it worked. I was able to kick out of the wave when the ride was over. The only other wave I remember was a left. The board locked in high and tight. I squatted, dragged my hand and imagined this must be the sensation one has when getting shacked. Had the wave been bigger, I would have been covered.

Today's session sucked. Too much wind and chop. I got two waves. After only an hour, I paddled in. I've learned to cut my losses on bad days. Why sit there waiting for it to improve when you know the wind is going to pick up even more as the day progresses? The ding magnet worked its magic again today. This time it gave the ding to someone else. The waves in the O.C. were nasty today. They'd wall up and pitch you right off before you could stand up. I paddled for a wave which walled up and caused me to pearl. As a result, I pulled back to keep from going over the falls. Somehow, my friend was behind me. (Why he was that close to me while I was paddling, I don't know.) When I pulled back from the wave, my tail hit the bottom of his board somehow. Ding!!! He ended up with some cracked glass from that one. My board, surprisingly enough, was unharmed.

Monogamy

I know I once wrote a post explaining why I'm not a one board woman. I said I just wasn't capable of being true to one board. Well, that's no longer the case. This summer's waves were so small that I promised myself I would surf the Tyler and nothing else. For the most part, I remained loyal to that board. (I think I surfed the Slick on one occasion.) See, I don't think I ever actually got the Tyler dialed in before this year. I've ridden it for years, yes. However, I didn't quite know how to fit it into my rotation of boards. The Slick was my every day longboard. I've got and had other boards for when I wanted something shorter. The Tyler, as a consequence, was not being given its due. This summer changed all of that. It was time for me to get serious about longboarding. There's no better board to do that on than a Tyler. Now that the summer is over, I can label the summer a success. The waves weren't good. But between the strength I gained from swimming and the consistently decent (albeit small) waves I found in the O.C., my surfing improved quite a bit.

I'll soon be setting the Tyler aside. Now I'm going to commit myself to my shorter boards, particularly the custom board I got right before summer began. I'm not looking forward to the horrendous surfing I'll be doing until I get these boards dialed in. That's the hardest part. I tend to stay on my longboards because I can surf them without embarrassing myself. Going two feet shorter while adding two fins is going to make for some interesting moments of kookiness. Bring it! I can't get better unless I embrace my inner kook.

It's Not Always About Surfing

These three people—Nobel Prize winners in literature—are as important to me as is my surfing. I need to remind myself of that more often.

It's Almost Too Hot to Blog

There's a bit of a breeze coming through the house now. It's still hot in here and I'm still sweating. But this is a great improvement over the oppressive heat of the last few days. (Did I mention that the air conditioner in my car doesn't work?)

Three straight days in the water. The tank, once again, is empty. I couldn't surf tomorrow if you paid me. Well, perhaps I could, however it wouldn't be pretty. In an effort to beat the crowd, I arrived at RPB in the dark. So I sat for awhile waiting for some sunlight. When there was enough light to see the waves, I was surprised to see that people had already paddled out. And I could see why. The swell picked up over night. Big stuff was rolling in. I suited up quickly and got some of the big ones before they just kind of petered out. Because I got in so early, I got to ride many waves without 10 of my new best friends. I used those opportunities to walk the board. I'm finally letting go of my hang-up about wasting a good wave to unsuccessful walking. I won't successfully walk the board if I don't practice, right? And practice I did, over and over, while going backside. I can't say I'm getting better at it. I can say I'm getting more confident and less hesitant about doing it.

The only wave I remember is my last wave. It took forever for me to catch it. As I waited for it, I realized I was surfing on fumes. I'd eaten an early dinner the night before and I really hadn't eaten much. I don't eat before I surf either. I was hurtin'. I didn't have the strength to paddle hard for waves, therefore I was missing the tweeners and making myself even more tired. Still, I was not going to paddle in. I usually wait for a bigger wave when I'm in this predicament. You paddle less to get into the bigger ones. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a big one approached. For some reason, no one else got it. I ended up taking that thing for yards, carving up and down the face—yes, I was going right—until it delivered me to the sand. Perfect. A guy who was on shore remarked that it was a nice one. Yes, it was . . . because it finally got me out of the water.

I'll rest tomorrow. Friday, I get wet again!!! (Part-time work is a beautiful thing.)

This Board is a Ding Magnet

Once again, the Tyler is sporting a nice little fin chop courtesy of someone at RPB, someone who had the nerve to get loud after our boards hit. I, on the other hand, am past all that. You want a pristine board? Keep your little happy ass out of the waters of L.A. County. And don't bitch at me for going left on what was clearly a left, a left I waited for, a left that the person next to me also identified as a left and told me to take, a left I took because there was no one to my left, a left which I clearly claimed, a left which I told those nearby I was taking ("I'm going left!!!"). I have no idea why this guy was going right. Yes, we were at a break which mainly breaks right, but that doesn't mean every wave is a right! Nor does it mean I don't take rights and take all the lefts even when it's crowded. I was only able to sneak in a few rides going left today. There were too many people to allow me to go left at will. A competent surfer who can read the waves can see the lefts at this break.

This is a photo I yanked from the free cam for that break.

I'm not quick to anger. I never have been. I do get angry. I can get angry. I choose not to be angry about most things. For me, this was one of those instances when you simply chalk it up to bad luck and move on. The other guy, it seems, felt the need to spout off. (I was thinking, "You probably drive like a dick too!") As I turned around to paddle away, I realized I had back-up. What the . . . ? There were Jeremy, Walter and Nancy with looks on their faces that truly surprised me. Those three were ready to throw down . . . for me!!!! Nancy even paddled over to the guy to have a little chat. I don't know. I know they were siding with me (and I thank them for that). I also got a sense that they were protecting the good karma in the air, like they were ready to step to this guy to keep him from ruining what was a decent morning for everyone. I find it difficult to be mad when there's a good vibe somewhere. Apparently, the angry dude (who I was told is a lawyer) got out. I stayed in. I was enjoying myself too much. The ding can be fixed. I'll use the board again tomorrow (with the ding either covered or stuffed with wax). Then I'll scrape off the wax, remove the fin and take the board in.

Get In Early, Get Out Early

I was there, lined up at the gate with everyone else, at 6 a.m. By 6:30, I was in the water. By 8, I was on the sand heading toward the car. It would seem that I missed most of the serious crowd. There were still too many people in the water for my comfort. I let some waves go when I saw that I couldn't take them without mowing a few people over.

This was the first time I ventured to this break alone. I feel comfortable there now. In fact, the regulars now acknowledge me as I walk by them to check the surf. That's cool. I'm not trying to be in with the "in crowd" or anything. I merely want people to give me the respect that I give them.

No surfing tomorrow. Soul Brother #1 politely pointed out that since he knows I want to surf on Monday morning, he's got dibs on Sunday morning (for a motorcycle ride). That's fair. I don't like it, but that doesn't change the fact that it's still fair.

I did nothing spectacular or noteworthy today. I caught a bunch of waves when I first paddled out. Then, as the lineup thickened, I grew more hesitant. I did manage to walk once. I got to the nose, panicked, walked backwards and fell of the back of the board headfirst, feet flying up above me. I only mention that wave because it shows that I'm still intent on walking the board every time I surf (at least until I switch over to my smaller board for the winter).