Paddling the south, west, pac. fork of the Salmon

Nov.2, 2009

KIRKHAM st. :

I drove all the way back to berkeley and got the biggest board that I own and went back out.

This time I used a bit more tact and went to the sand dunes to scope out a riptide to aid in paddling out.

I scored a DOH+(?), macker. I made the drop, bottom turned into a mid face speed pump underneath a hucking lip. I didnt really have a chance to enjoy the view of the lip 5 feet over my head cuz it was only there for a split second (guess i should have stalled instead of pumped). I made an awkward hack off the top to another bottom turn to a speed pump to kick out. I got around to see where i was and saw the small pack of surfers that I started at, they were really far away, like 2-3 hundred yards. I was really amazed at how fast i went, but i did not want to get stuck back inside again.

I looked back out to sea to see a triple overhead steam roller charging towards me, I noodled my arms as fast as possible towards the biggest submarine beating of my life. A visceral tinkling of my worst nightmares spilled into my conscientiousness as i attempted to will my two lactic acid filled appendages into action.

I am five years old again only this time I am not asleep, the monster bering down on me is not a figment of my imagination. Its right there in front of me, rushing towards me frothing its gaping, roaring mouth.
The only way to escape it is to run towards it and go between its legs, only I cant run. No matter how hard I try I just cannot get my arms to move fast enough.

I began to silence the little boy inside of me and prepared to pay for what she gave me.