Offshore Breeze

I’m leaving my house a little after 7:30. My meetings have ended for the day (at least those scheduled so far) and I’d like to beat the Santa Ana winds due to ramp up later in the morning.

It’s a beautiful cloudless sky today and it’s 57 degrees outside according to Google. As I pass Doheny, the ocean surface looks ever so slightly ruffled from the offshore breeze but mostly clean.

From the Strand parking lot, the surface looks smooth and everything is feeling nothing less than delightful. The ground feels cold when I step out of my car.

I walk down the stairs and let the morning light and the sound of the surf wash over me. I see long lines that seem to extend nearly the length of the beach move toward the shore. They look so much bigger than what they become when they break - very similar to a couple days ago. I don’t see any surfers out.

I reach the asphalt and my feet feel frozen and the rough grain of the road here feels particularly uncomfortable. I’m remembering the guy who was telling me how this road feels like it massages the bottoms of his feet. I’m having a difficult time sharing that sentiment but I am earnestly trying.

The beach is beautiful. The water is covered in light and the shade line from the cliffs above reach to just a few feet west of the east edge of the shore. I dip my feet in the water and it almost feels warm compared to how cold my feet have been.

I set down my backpack and walk out to the water. The surf is mostly calm but I have seen a couple decent sets come through. It looks flat right now this moment as I walk into the shallows. The water is clear here. A smaller set of waves comes just at I pass the white water. I try to capture a photo of one just as it curls over me. It would have been so great but alas, I ended up getting the other side of the wave below the water.

I swim south and I’m feeling good. Sometimes it is hard to believe that I am actually here. How is it that I suddenly find myself out here in the water surrounded by cliffs, a rising sun, and a horizon that expands out to forever? I guess I must have gotten into my car and drove here but I briefly lose all memory of the transitional steps that got me from my sofa and into this water.

It feels like I am the only one here but then I spot a pair of surfers and there is a boat several hundred feet away. There are birds flying this way and that. I can feel my body rise and roll over the backs of oncoming wakes as they prepare to transform into breaking waves.

I get to the south end of the beach. The glare from the sun shines directly into me. I think I feel it illuminating my spleen. I have difficulty making out my exact location and put up my hands to shade my eyes until I spot my rock. I see it. I am just about there.

Soon I am there and there is some strong wave activity right here and it feels like I am rapidly drifting toward the cliff. I take all the pics I want to take. There are lots of birds, pelicans I think, way out at the end of the point. I put my goggles back on and head north.

I definitely feel like this is the direction that the current is moving. I swim and swim and I don’t stop until I am nearly at the northern turn around point. I can feel my body growing colder…colder, but I feel super good. I feel filled with gratitude that I am able to be here. The burn of the cold surrounds every inch of my skin. I relax my neck and shoulders and core and the cold takes on a friendly face. I know that I cannot visit with it for much longer but I still have some time yet.

At the north end of the beach I pause to take stock of my location. Oh I can totally feel that offshore breeze now. I can here it too whipping the back sides of my wet ears. Am I the only one?

At the northern turnaround point just on the other side of the bathrooms, I can hear the voices of surfers but I can’t see them and I can’t really make out the words. I turn south and identify the asphalt road in the distance. That is my only goal in life right now this moment - to reach that road.

As I swim towards it, I can feel the change in current as I swim against the flow. I get to just in front of where I want to end and a larger set of waves comes through. I stay put and watch the set break almost parallel to where I am but further down the beach. Then I swim directly to shore.

As I stand, I see a surfer about a hundred yards to the south catch a head high wave and it’s a nearly perfect ride. I group of half a dozen Sand Pipers meets me just at the water’s edge.