When all the elements of the earth converge to create big surf conditions, there is a feeling in the air, a certain excitement that is tangible to the consciousness. This past weekend was one of those times. In order to get out of dodge I left Santa Barbara and headed for Big Sur, always a good choice for a weekend trip. Plaskett Creek campground seems to be full every time I drive by, so I had to "hunker" down in the Sand Dollar beach day use parking lot, preparing myself for the morning thunder that was clearly audible. The crashing sound of the waves that night only served to garner more excitement, trapped in the form of butterflies within my torso. It has been quite a while since I have paddled out in anything other than fun, head high south swell nuggets, and this was going to be the real deal. There was going to be actual paddling, duck diving and maneuvering to get into position to catch these big, crumbling grinders.

By sunrise I had gulped down some tea, sucked up some oatmeal and trail mix, swallowed my pills and my wetsuit was half on. Brrrrr! Without the sun's rays warming the atmosphere below the coastal ranges, it was frigid, and the water, despite being a beautiful turquoise blue, was not as inviting as Costa Rican bathtub-like ocean waters. But I was undeterred, and out into the maelstrom I paddled. I did not elect to use the conveyor belt paddle out that is available if you go through the rocks on the south end of the point at Sand Dollar, so I was plenty warmed up by the time I made it outside.

The unruly wind swell mixed with true ground swell from the Gulf of Alaska made it difficult to position correctly for a set wave. Bigger and bigger sets seemed to be breaking further and further out as time wore on through the morning. My first big drop was like stepping off a ledge with a bungee cord attached to your leg. FREEDOM! Sliding and gliding down the face, I saw an approaching close out section and kicked off the back of the wave expecting to just lay flat on my board and quickly get back outside before the rest of the set drilled me on the head. But this wave was much larger than I anticipated, when I kicked off and tried to lay flat on my board, there was about six feet of empty space before the surface of the water, and I dropped down on my board as if I had fallen off the top of a six-foot rock. Thump! My fist had nearly punched through the deck of my board and I lost my breath a bit. But I made a quick recovery, and I was back on track.

Within a half hour, the situation changed dramatically out in the water. The sun brought brilliant warmth to the beach area, and this had a nourishing effect on my stamina. But unbeknownst to me, the US National Surf Kayak team was camping across the street, and they began cluttering the outside one by one. Damn these guys were gnarly! With the aid of a kayak and paddle, they were able to get into the set waves much earlier than a surfer on a surfboard with only arms to paddle, and they were catching some pretty fierce waves. I was impressed by the fortitude and the wave knowledge these guys displayed as they paddled around the point happily chatting to each other, and carefully avoiding me as I picked off my waves from the leftovers.

How could I forget my waterproof camera gear? This could have been a great article on the lives of the national surf kayak team, but it was not to be. Instead, I have to rely on the beauty of this natural landscape to give you a taste of the imagery that one can experience when they use this awesome beach park!

ER Harris