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Last
week I submitted
30 photos to Climbing
Magazine's Reader
Photo Contest.
Hopefully the photos don't
suck. Check
them out. Thanks
to all of my friends
for climbing so
hard! Especially
Ariel, Brian, Bedhead,
Oz, Rex, Mike, Bob,
Darren, Dan, Matt,
Chris, Holly, Roland,
Kosta, and a couple
of Unkowns. You
guys rock.
Last
Thursday one of
the biggest swells
of the winter hit
the west coast.
Mavericks was going
off. So Ariel, Brian
Neumann and I went
down to check it
out and I took some
photos. Unfortunately,
they are the last
photos that my S400
will take. Here
they are.
On the way back
from Mavs, we stopped
at a little beach
break called Montara.
Well, it wasn't
so little. It was
pounding. Hard.
We walked down a
little gully in
between bluffs to
get to the beach.
There was a couple
having lunch on
the beach, backs
against the bluff
on our right. It
didn't look like
the wash was coming
anywhere near
the bluff walls.
But the waves were
enormous, so we
hung around for
a second to take
some photos. We
ventured out a little
bit to get a few
of the beach to
the south of us.
As Ariel pointed
a monster wave breaking
three or four waves
back, we were suddenly
confronted with the
rapidly approaching
whitewash of an
earlier wave. Crap!
For the first half-second
I thought that my
feet were going
to wet. No big deal.
For the next second
I came to realize
that this wash was
coming fast and
there was a lot
of it. To my left,
Neumann was fumbling
with his DV camera,
to my right Ariel
was starting to
scramble back to
the the gully and
directly behind
me was the bluff
wall. All I could
think to do was
jump! I landed in
waist-deep water,
which upon rebounding
off of the bluff
wall was enough
to soak me head
to tow, as well
as sweep all of
us off of our feet.
Moments earlier
was had been admiring
the viciously steep
beach break and
the associated ripcurl
20 feet in front
of us. Now we were
doing all we could
do swim against
the backwash and
avoid experiencing
that little bugger
first hand. When
all was said and
done, from start
to finish being
about five seconds,
all three us were
in one piece, albeit
soaked to the bone
and penetrated with
the coarse NorCal
sand. The only casualties
were both mine and
Neumann's digital
cameras and Neumann's
DV camera. That's
one expensive wave.
We couldn't help
but laugh at our
idiocy, but on the
wet ride home we
couldn't help but
be thankful that
it turned out as
well as it did.
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