Ozone Killer

In search of my own private tube haven during this beautiful three-day weekend, I must have created a hole in the ozone the size of California…

Saturday, me and a couple bros blasted down to Baja Malibu, hitting 90 on the freeway (and managing to avoid any run-ins with federales or gun-toting cartel members) we were in and out of Mexico in less than three hours. The waves were head-high, a little on the closed out side, but the water was remarkably clean for there. Fun? Yeah. Big, barfing barrels up and down the beach? Not even close. On to the next spot: Seaside Reef. Fun stuff off the reef, a bit slow and fat, but surfing with some good friends and nice weather?who could complain? Sunday I wake up thinking, ?Game On!? Waves are up a bit from Saturday. A quick sesh at Seaside then jam down to Blacks for the rest of the day where we were greeted by lots of tanned schlongs and hundreds of dudes thinking they were gonna score some of those famed Blacks a-frame barrels. Again, it was fun, not epic?but hey, in this wave-starved SoCal winter we?ll take it.

Ryan Burch blasting off at Seaside Reef. Photo: Jack English

This brings me to the point of this spewage: In a cruel twist of fate, timing, and God shitting on me, my girlfriend arrived home from a ten-day vacation right when the swell peaked on Monday and I knew my beloved Blacks was finally firing on all cylinders? overhead, glassy, and draining. ?Hey, babe, do you wanna go down to Blacks and catch a few rays, lay out on the beach?? Her answer was not a surprise. ?Are you trying to kill me? Let?s go to Beacons, be a good boyfriend and come with me.? As my phone buzzed away with texts and calls regarding north peak Blacks perfection, I sat next to a goofy guy on a funboard, my lovely girlfriend, and a 70-year old longboarder. Boyfriend of the year? Yes. Feeling content after the first swell of 2009? Hell no! Pray for (more) surf.