Just thought I’d share this with you. For my Boomer buddies and me, this past Wednesday was Big Wednesday — like the old surf movie of the same name. Goes to show that we Baby Boomers can still keep up with the kids … no matter how old and gray we may be getting, ha ha! What a day!

Two storms, one from Mexico and one from Washington state, converged here in Southern California on Wednesday to bring the most awesome waves to our beaches that I’ve ever seen! All sizes too, from monster 18 footers to nicely shaped 4 footers.

My buddy and I hit the sand, waxing our boards, as the sun rose to reveal a glorious, sunny, 75 degree morning. Doesn’t get much better than that for December. At sunrise the water was already crowded with fellow surfers, ranging in age from teenagers (lots) to twenty-somethings (mostly) to guys in their 50s (my camp). These waves offered the best surfing I’ve had in more than 20 years. I’m happy to report that us old dudes managed to hold our own pretty well against the younger crowd, giving credence to the popular T-shirts that read: OLD GUYS RULE!

After a morning of riding waves on my board, I decided to ride a few in my kayak. I think that was almost even more fun. Using the paddle for steerage, I could steer myself along the waves better to make the ride last longer. There wasn’t a breath of wind, or I would have concluded the day by sailing (my true passion). But the day was awesome! One of those days that make ya feel 25 again. However, now it is a couple days later … trust me, I know I’m no longer 25. A few aches; pains, bruises, and sore muscles. But it was surely worth it. My kind of holiday season!!! 

Happy Holidays,
Mike Petrie

December, 2006: After weeks — make that months — of blue skies and temps in the 70s and 80s, winter officially arrived this month in Southern California as the skies grew cloudy, the wind began whistling through the palm trees, and liquid sunshine began falling from the heavens. My goodness, I not only had to raise the top on my 2-seater convertible but had to actually don a sweater to keep warm. Brrrr. The evening news lead story was ARCTIC STORM GRIPS THE SOUTHLAND followed by stories of fender-benders on our roadways as local folks displayed their inability to properly maneuver automobiles during inclement conditions.

Street interviews ran the gamut of folks complaining about the wet, frigid conditions (where temps plummeted down into the upper 40s) to those relishing such conditions because they’re reminiscent of the holiday weather they recalled from childhoods in less tropical climes.

But even as blue skies returned to the area, it was surfers who seemed to appreciate the winter storm the most. The aftermath of the storm was like an early Christmas present from almighty God: TEN FOOT WAVES hitting our shores in glassy sets, offering long rides on long boards. Spotting these aquatic monoliths early one morning from my kitchen window while sipping a large mug of coffee quickly sent adrenaline into my system, purging sleepiness from my body. Grabbing my surfboard, heading out the door to the beach to catch a few for myself, I found myself on the sand gazing up at these H2O mountains. They looked even bigger from this perspective than they had from my window.

Properly wet-suited, I braved the frigid 52 degree water, paddled out, and caught one! Feeling the ocean pushing me up, being propelled atop incredibly fast-moving, glorious, liquid momentum, savoring the rush of it all, even while losing my footing and being whipped off my board, abruptly finding myself underwater, clawing toward the surface and gasping for air! Then rudely shoved back toward terra firma, the sandpaper-like shore ripping a few layers of epidermis from face and feet, I lumbered out of the water like some dazed, elderly walrus, tugging my leashed surfboard with me. Feeling chilled to the bone from head to toe, I sat on beach and collected myself. Then paddled out again for more.

Several rides and a couple of hours later, I’m sitting inside my nice warm house, in front of a roaring fireplace, sipping hot cocoa and looking out over the frothy, turbulent, blue ocean that has been my playground all morning. I feel absolutely awash in the same sort of afterglow that I recall from childhood post-present-opening on Christmas morning. Only, at this stage of life I realize the greatest present of the season is that of living to the ripe old age of fifty-something and still being able to surf the big waves of a California winter wonderland.