Tasty Red Tide
I left a little before 9:45. It is a beautiful clear morning. As I approach Selva Rd., there is haze in the distance and the hillside beyond Crown Valley looks slightly misty. The water is smooth and the sun feels good as I step out of my car.
I hear the surf as I head down the stairs and I try to keep my focus on that sound but I’m briefly distracted by a beautiful green little bird that flies and lands on the railing just next to me.
The tide is low and still has about another hour and a half before reaching it’s 0.6 low. The sand and rocks are definitely moving about, but much later this year than the last couple years. There is a lot of small rocks and cobble near the edge of the water and a few larger rocks are starting to poke out of the sandy floor in the shallows. I’m betting they will be covered up again in April.
I set down my pack and walk out into the water. Same as yesterday, there are a couple large rocks I need to keep an eye out for just inside of the water’s edge and then I climb up a foot or two to knee deep water that feels like it goes on forever. I try to pick up the pace of my walking so I can get to swimming soon.
Finally I am at the small surf. I appear to be in some kind of a channel here as larger waves are breaking on either side of me but it is all small stuff right here. I dive right into the face of the next wave and start swimming. It all feels like yesterday. It’s damn cold at first - I’m gonna say 56. Then I get to a warmer patch and then a patch that feels like it has a submerged iceberg and then another warmer patch. This goes on pretty much for the remainder of the swim.
It is absolutely pristine out here and the shore looks lovely. There is an immense peace resting on the water. I feel waves of varying coldness rolling through my body. I feel totally connected.
It feels like I am at the southern end of the beach in no time and the waves are breaking outside here just like yesterday and I need to aim west to keep on the outer edge of the break. Contrary to the morning surf report, which says the swell is peaking today, the waves seem smaller than yesterday, but they are still present and fun to watch.
Today I am determined to stay closer to shore on the northbound leg an prevent the huge drift I had yesterday. So as I turn around and head to the Ritz, I try to keep my trajectory eastward, again skirting the edge of the breaking waves. This works out well and I remain a comfortable distance from the beach all the way to the lifeguard tower and today’s trip feels much shorter than yesterday’s and indeed it is. Today’s swim is 17 minutes shorter than yesterday even though I swam with the same intensity and turned around in the same spots.
Man some of these cold spots on the northern end are brutal. Well it’s gotta be great for any inflammation I have in my legs from running this week. I feel 0 inflammation right now. I’m fairly impressed with how I am handling the cold. I have given myself full permission to end early but I feel good. I honestly have no idea ho much my cold fatigue is real or just psychological. Do I actually feel warmer or am I just mentally used to this feeling and less alarmed by it? I really don’t know, but I certainly appreciate the feeling of knowing death is not near.
The water is kind of cloudy and the kelp looks like it is standing in a heavy fog. Near my northern turnaround, there is a bit of a red tide situation and the water looks gross. I try not to take in any water through the mouth but I know that I am and try to ignore it. Tastes great!
