Ah Trestles—my go-to, my getaway to get away,

During this quarantine thing, I try not torturing myself by looking at my long list of surf trips…especially since the world does not want Americans near their shores right now…but this past Saturday, Trestles brought the surf trip to me and bunch of other heat relief-seeking folks. Indo be damned…well, for now.

My trusty Sub Scorcher

A perpetual heat wave has been hovering over SoCal, thanks to a once hurricane now-turned series of storms off the coast. In fact, as I type this, I’m probably sweating in a tank and shorts with my hair in a bun that’s falling out of my clip.

Coulda sworn I left the humidity in Georgia and Texas…Lawd, child!

Last weekend, air temps hovered in the high 80’s by the beach and water temps sat at a very comfortable 72-76 degrees all along the coast. Trestles and her warm water walls called!

There are times where the crowd gets to me, the wave frustrates me and the rocks irk me. But not this time. Warm water makes me invincible, right? :D

At 9:30 a.m., I paddled out, no wetsuit needed. Duck diving felt like heaven and even though the lineup was really crowded, I couldn’t help but smile to see a few happy faces out there prattling on about the water temp and the waves. Nearby, a guy and I joked about how crowded it was, but there was also a fair amount of space between each surfer…except me and this Aussie chick, who constantly burned and backpaddled me.

First burn—okay, maybe it was an accident.

Second burn—excuuuse me?!

On her third burn, I yelled at her, to which she stared at me as she paddled back out…and I had no trouble mean mugging her right back, my inner ‘Georgia Jackie’ blood boiling, but I resolved to just shaking my head. She disappointed me more than angered me. As women, we should be supporting one another in the water, not acting like assholes to each other. Sure, competition is healthy—but not flat out rudeness and greediness. I thought to myself, yelling at her more is only going to give her cause to yell back. Then I thought, maybe if I reason with her and tell her that I didn’t appreciate her practically dropping in on top of me even after she saw me paddling for the wave… Then I thought “Nah. If she can’t be a considerate surfer, there’s no way she’s a considerate human being and I’m in no mood to school someone who should already know the rules of the road.”

Her friend attempted a peace treaty with me and reassured me that she won’t be back since she lives in San Diego, to which I replied to him: “Good.” She stayed away and soon after I caught a few nice waves and did a nice frontside hit in her face, she and her all dude posse went in. Good riddance.

Fast forward and a few friendly faces show up, some I haven’t seen since before quarantine and my heart felt light. We sat at a peak, played with its walls, and drifted around Uppers and the 50 million surfers chomping at the bit for a bite of the peak.

One happy surfer girl

I took one wave towards the inside and as another wave was breaking, a grom dropped in and without looking in front of him, ate crap, unintentionally sending his board towards me. Never thought I’d do this, but I tried to put my board in front of me to block his oncoming board, but failed. Thankfully, the board wasn’t coming at me too fast. A scratch on the forehead and a few bruises later, I paddle back out and said grom apologizes, after a small schooling from my friend. ;)

Waves, more waves and then some more waves…new friends, old friends…soon enough, it was almost 6 hours before I called it quits. Attempts to reapply sunscreen 2 hours into my sesh failed and I justify the sun damage to being locked away for 2 months. Savoring every minute of this day, I thought as we all sat on the beach and laughed, sweated out butts right off, talked surf trips and life. Despite crowds and bruises, we made it a proper Trestles summer sesh…but for a minute, it felt like our own spot somewhere in Central America.

Now, to scratch that travel itch…