sponsor me

There is contest activity around the pier, bikini activity around the volleyball courts, and trolling activity along the beach and pier.

The weather is cold both wind and sea, the sky is clear, the clouds high. Onshore winds pickup throughout the surf session.

I'm chirping, babbling, and uttering other nonsensical verbiage while wading through the ankle high water to the lineup. Not really sure why we tend to shout or vocalize when we get cold, maybe it warms us somehow.

There is a little size for Pismo. Chest to head high sets, overhead freak set wave. A little push to make it zippy. The water is choppy with the offshore winds, but there is a definable left and right shoulder which roll in off the sandbars. I catch them right and left, working my feet to the nose, crouching and zipping down the line clearing the sections, several rides 200yd plus to the shore, and steep closeouts fun for floaters.

Hearing Johnny Cash blaring from the Volcom surf tent on the pier, his voice is as clear and deep as the water. The rebel similarity between surfer and Cash must be appeal. By now the water is a choppy mess, shoulders crumbling down the line, onshore wind stronger, the day colder. I jog out of the water and shower in the cold water which chills my numb torso slightly.