It was dark out, and I was surprisingly awake despite a weekend of skiing and general debauchery in Tahoe. I drove in silence to Jimmy's house in the Sunset, and we jammed his board in my car. The morning wave conditions were shroud in the mystery of darkness but some light shimmered off some peaks as we approached Half Moon Bay. Eli was waiting in his car, and we inspected the waves from the bluff just as a nice clean set rolled through.
The cold penetrated through the 4mm neoprene before I even got in the water, and sent shivers down my spine as I paddled out. The waves were not huge - in fact, they were smaller than my previous outing at Kelly Street. However, they broke ferociously strong on the shallow bar, scaring my east coast weak-wave sensibilities.
A few big sets rolled by and Eli caught a few nice waves, and I kept on the sidelines waiting for my opportunity. Instead, I missed paddling over a set wave and got pulled over the falls for a nice churning adventure in the dishwasher. I was disoriented and shivering when I popped to the surface. Damn the water was cold.
Time passed, and I still couldn't psyche myself into catching a wave, including one late abort on a nice wave I probably would have had a great ride on. By 8:15, it was time to head in, and I caught a small right, which left me tumbling in the closeout. We ran to the car, and that HOT shower at work helped offset the cold morning.