Quintessential OB. What defines a place, a neighborhood . . .a pastime? What is the true flavor of this place called simply - Ocean Beach? For me it is a place where I have met my greatest challenge. It is a place where I feel that my worth has been proven and my manhood realized. There is something about this more than seven-mile stretch of sand dunes and coastal highway that has become so much a part of my life, that I feel linked with its energy. Each day the first thought when I awake is: what are the buoy heights and how does the wind feel outside? A quick jaunt up to the roof gives me a surveyor's viewpoint of VFW's and a glimpse of Kelly's. Looks like a surf day! Not too windy up top, there is some girth to the wave action hitting the north end judging by the amount of white water visible. Any hint of wind swell from here to Kamchatka rolls straight into the Golden Gate.

Winter is a pleasure for the hardcore enthusiasts because we know that like clockwork, ground swells that develop deep in the heart of the Aleutian storm track end up getting groomed by east winds common to the season. Yes, we get very interested when we happen to hear weather casters talking about an Idaho/Utah or Great Basin high-pressure system. That usually means that girlfriends and wives of surfers who live near Ocean Beach are out of contact with their significant other for a suspicious amount of time during the day. Don't worry ladies; your men are just out flirting with Mother Nature. Slashing lines down faces of green walls. Kicking spray high in the air. Connecting with the bottom after a lip reentry. There is a lot of action going on down at the beach on an average winter surf day. The north end will be perfect, hollow and six to eight foot, with Kelly's a touch smaller and more bending. At the edge of the dunes is the turning point. From Judah to Lawton it's definitely bigger, and as you make your way to the middle of the beach, Noriega to Pacheco is double overhead easy. It looks like a brutal paddle out and you don't even want to imagine the pounding you would get in the shore break. Taraval is my favorite spot. I have a special affinity with the place. After surfing there so many hours I have a feel for the sand bars.

And there are some classic "old school crew" members who charge there on a rotation basis every single big northwest swell. I like to learn from them. Trading waves with Grant Washburn and Matt Warshaw, are you kidding me? I have garnered a lot of crucial tips on surviving the big days. Studying their impeccable style has definitely helped me to pass the threshold of no return - total addiction to big wave drops! After the Riviera bowls and the Taraval horseshoe comes Sloat, then second lot Sloat. Both places are completely packed on a good day, and scattered with vehicles on an average day . . . some fishermen with long plastic boots, and some desperado surfers hoping to get a few wind swell bowls before work. Is that the end of Ocean Beach? No. It's amazing, but there are several more miles of beach break that continue on until Fort Funston, but because you cannot drive your car and park it right in front of where you paddle out, nobody seems to ever surf down there on the extreme south end. I had a friend who lived in some apartment near Lake Merced and he relayed to me stories of hiking over from his house to surf un crowded OB on the weekend after checking the rest of the beach and seeing the ludicrous number of people in the water. A great escape possibility for the discontented surfer would be to cruise down to second lot Sloat, suit up and jog a half mile or more south on the beach until they found a nice peak to surf solo-style. However, many OB vets are so territorial about there surfing that they either hang out in the Kelly's lot talking trash to all their friends and giving the stink eye to anyone who is not, or they paddle out at Kelly's and pretty much act the same way in the water. Like jerks.

ER Harris