Of MiniSims, William Butler Yeats, and Fruta

Early fall is the best of times, and it is the worst of times. The best of times because it’s amazing. The worst because the pool is going to close soon--where the hell am I supposed to get $2 MGD drafts and $1 microwaved hottogs between now and May 1st?

Also, a house on my street burned down. Not good. 

Also, we got hammered with an early season winter swell. Good. 

Also, it rained. Weird, as it hasn’t done this for a few years, as far as I can remember.

In his oft-quoted poem The Second Coming, William Butler Yeats wrote, 'the center cannot hold,' in reference to some kind of global event (his interpretation of a global event is not a rosy one). Over the years, I've repositioned my thinking on this one. Not to challenge Yeats, but I think the center is the thing that holds us in difficult times. The center is, well, the center. The core. The strongest part of our selves. The outside may crumble off like decaying bark, but inside, at the core, there’s still bright, fresh wood.

This morning I woke up my five-year-old, who was in the throes of a dream. “You were in my dream,” she said, sleepily. “Only it was just half you.”

“What was my other half?” I asked.
“You were half man, half strawberry,” she stated.

"Which half was strawberry?" I asked solemnly.

"Whatever," she said, then rolled over and fell back asleep.

I liked her response. It was correct: it didn’t matter if I was a strawberry with arms and legs and a human head, or if I was a human torso with a strawberry head, or whatever. The point was that it was me but not me, but underneath it it was me.

There’s an essence to things, an inside we can feel but not see. The center, and it is strong. It can hold. The details aren’t important—arms, legs, seeds, a stem, whatever.

What’s this got to do with Woodworker Dan’s new 5’4 MiniSims? Not a goddamn thing, that’s what. But not everything has to connect. Sometimes the great world spins and it lands us on a pair of snake eyes and we get the prize. Sometimes the great world spins and our neighbor’s house burns down and a long-period groundswell graces our shores and your boss gets a new car.

Sometimes it spins and spins and we tuck into a clean section of wave on a freshly-minted slab of foam  with two fins and suddenly we’re spinning, too, and when we stop we’re half strawberry and could use a strong cup of coffee.

What I’m saying is: we lost our third hockey game of the season 7-0 last night, and I’m sad this morning.

Know who’s not sad?

Woodworker Dan! He’s got some fresh foam and a new punch on his sandwich card. He's got a great wife and a great kid and is the source of many of the tailblock woods you've been admiring for years. He's got two earrings in his left ear (!), so you know he shreds.

Speaking of sandwich cards, I would like to take this moment to remind you that I care about you. Because of this, I’m offering yet ANOTHER choice on your punch card. In addition to Ike’s incredible lunch sandwiches, and Devil’s Teeth incredible breakfast sandwiches, you now have the choice of redeeming your punch card at Fruta, Sonoma County's own Michoacan-style ice cream shop (Michoacana palateria y neveria), after a mere five punches. 

!Dios mio!

Because of the incontestable goodness of Fruta, I can no longer say the following words in my house, lest my girls go apeshit: Fruta, fruta, Fruit, Froot, Ice cream, Michoacan, neveria, Phineas and Ferb, Taylor Swift, dessert.

Almost Famous

Stett Holbrook did a great job capturing the current spirit of NorthCoast surfing in this week's North Bay Bohemian. What's present is his article is accurate: a deep respect for surfers--by surfers--that may not be present in all of California's wave zones.
What's missing are all the boring, shrill stereotypes about surfers being myopic and territorial. Finally! Instead, Mr. Holbrook subtly highlights our coast's inclusivity. Our respect-for-just-making-it-out-into-the-lineup attitude. Our commitment to cold, dark, raw waters that are hard to love and, for some, hard to turn away from.
The article focuses on, well, me, but it really paints a thoughtful, articulate picture of surfing north of The Bridge. It can be read HERE.
Feel free to 'Like' and 'Comment' and stuff.

Speaking of surfing, remember that board from last post? Well, it's been all glassed up, waxed, and shredded. Initial reports: Oh boy.

Here she is all purty. Tony Mikus did a bang-up resin tint that's more 'kelp gold' than 'baby poop brown'. Thankfully.
I really like Tony--he's a character that's been under the surf-industry radar since the 70s. I like him to sign my personal boards. Here's what he came up with this pork chop:

Festina Lente is Latin for 'Make Haste Slowly'. Basically, it means that slow is smooth, and smooth is fast. So hurry up and slow down. Perfect, as I issued a rush on this board that probably had the entire glassing crew cursing my name.
Still!
It had to be done. Our plans for Baja were set. The paparazzi from Stett's article were relentless. South swell pulses were on the radar. Shredding had to happen, and it had to happen on this board.
And it did!

Wanna know what it's like to paddle out a new design with weird, homemade fins into hollow, dredging, top-to-bottom conditions?
How the hell should I know?
Both of today's sessions were in playful, peaky, shoulder-high mushburgers with fun, lined-up inside sections. This lil' lass dominated: easy entry, positive bottom turns, and loose, drivey fun.
Here's a rocker shot:

I can't say with complete honesty that both of today's sessions were totally 'sober' or 'without the influence of Tecate and tequila', but I can say this: this surfing life is a gift.

On the Road Again

The Baja leg of the annual HeadHighGlassy Family Summer Tour Palooza went off without a glitch. Waves were shredded with impunity, borders were crossed tactically, Tecates were consumed with abandon.
Perhaps more important than time spent with family and friends, or the thrill of intracontinental travel, or widening my childrens' worldviews to include cultures other than our own, is the true spirit of surf trips: subjecting new designs to a rigorous eight-step sciency feedback process.
As any considerate, rational, detail-oriented, kinda nitpicky, borderline pain-in-the-ass, OCD, self-absorbed, narcissistic shaper will testify, there is absolutely no replacing personal feedback in the water. Shapers should be their best team riders (team models, no. Have you seen my calves lately? Christ).

2013 HHG Family Baja Quiver

This year's quiver featured a wide swath of waveriding vehicles, including a couple perennial favorites and a new model (!) in two different lengths and fin setups for maximum geeking potential.

Bottoms up

The results?
Mrs. HHG is firmly attached to her 8' Broadsword, as per usual. She's also very pretty and nice.

The 5'6 MiniSimmons was my go-to board last year, and it was hard as hell to stay off it this year, but I had work to do: 6'3 and 7'0 Clovers (two middle boards in above pictures).
The Clover is a souped-up egg/hull mashup and features a hull entry to a kicked tail rocker with a hard edge and concaves through the fins. I rode the 6'3 as both a quad and a thruster in waist high to well overhead surf and was stoked out of my mind with both fin setups. I rarely say, 'stoked out of my mind,' just so you know.
The 7'0 was crazy fun as a 2+1 with a flexie center fin and really lit up in juicier surf. It's not a longboard alternative, and shreds with aplomb.
My arms were noodled out one afternoon, and the surf was still clean and pumping, so I put my hull fin in it and rode it as a single and it was as good as it gets.

Fins

I'll post the sleds up later when we're back from the (hot. Humid. Claustrophobic) East Coast leg of our Summer Tour.
Onward!

Flexible Member

Ahhh, summer! 

The pitbull-to-human ratio at my favorite Russian River swimming hole skyrockets, Trader Joe’s Coconut Water Fruit Floes are the most coveted item in the freezer, and boards get short and chunky. 

Or long and chunky. 

Or medium-sized and slender.

Basically, what I’m saying is that I have no idea what boards do in summer. Some folks choose to discount the entire windy, foggy, shit-sandwich season, crossing off the days on their calendars until the North Pacific roars back to life in Fall. Witness the host of step-up winter-sized boards that came out of my shop last week.

Others, like Fred, embrace summer, opting to shred-with-joy the short wave periods and overhyped south swells matching conditions to equipment.

Fred's Equipment 

5'2 stringerless Mini Simmons quad. Master glasser Tony Mikus (over 300,000,000 boards glassed!) said it was the most difficult board he's ever laminated. Springy flexy bouncy on the glassing racks.

Conditions

Ideally: shoulder-to-head-to-overhead (!) and peeling.

Probably: shoulder-to-head and choppier than the Swedish Chef with a third arm.

Fred’s a board-ordering pro (this is his third sandwich card punch), and kept it short, sweet, and detailed. Here's email read: 5’2, charcoal tint, black boxes, black leash plug. That's it.

When dudes are speficifying the color of their leash plug, you know this ain’t their first barbecue.

Speaking of barbecues…ahhh, summer!

Of Thrusters, Mini-Simmons, and Questionable Single-Parenting Practices

Fresh foam for Northcoast shredders M and K, whose boards managed to be shaped and glassed during a particularly unhinged chapter in my life that was the product of the lovely Mrs. HHG frolicking in London for two weeks with her mom.
It's not that single parenting is hard the way that coal mining or dairy farming or building a railroad is hard, but here’s the deal: it comes at the expense of every other thing in your life.
Free time? Nope.
Food? Hope you like shoving a cold hotdog-covered-in-applesauce into your mouth while you hover over the sink.
Culture? Only if your idea of culture is falling asleep on the couch four minutes into an old Arrested Development episode, then waking up two hours later because your laptop is burning into your chest with the heat of a thousand suns. And you're drooling.

Let's say your life is a balloon ride, and all your wonderful non-parenting pursuits (surfing, making surfboards, gardening, scanning ebay for an exact replica of a shirt an old girlfriend gave you that you wore until it was shredded, enjoying the occasional dram of Ardbeg Uigeadail you’ve managed to hide from your peers for the last month) are sandbags hanging over the rail of the balloon basket. There will come a moment—usually within the first twenty-four hours of single parenting—when first one, then suddenly all of those sandbags must be cut free. 

K's 6'0.

The remnants of your former life drop unceremoniously to the ground so that the balloon may stay aloft. You don’t really have any control of where you’re going (though, at some point, you’ll probably end up at the pony rides at Howarth Park), but you have momentum and you’re all aboard and as long as you have some instant Mac&Cheese and popsicles you should make it just fine.

Also, for some reason, there's a lot more nudity when your significant other is out of town. You get out of the shower, almost put on pants, then think, nah.  I know what you're thinking: doesn’t you walking around the house naked look like a sad, hairy snowman?
To which I reply, no, thank you very much. Snowmen wear ties. 

M's 5'7

Maybe a bit of an overshare for a surfblog, but I’m on allergy meds and my head feels like it’s filled with something soft.

Let’s check back in with the surfboards.

From my incomplete family to M and K’s newly completed one: his and her shred sleds in matching green hues with deep, dark, chocolaty cedar stringers.

K’s is pure thruster bliss with top-and-bottom resin abstract by Tony Mikus at Almar Glass Works.

M’s 5’7 mini-Simmons features a green resin wrap with Braztafarian resin pinlines.

M and K are our surfy Northcoast version of Sonny and Cher, only with more dreadlocks and natural-fibered clothing. 

Obstacle and Opportunity

It's been a week of obstacle and opportunity.

Obstacle: a, um, dude I know ran out of deodorant.

Opportunity: there, on the kitchen sink, sat the deodorant of his Special Lady Friend. It smelled like cucumber and sea breeze. He wanted to smell like cucumber and sea breeze. Permissions were granted, the obstacle was overcome*, gentle vegetal effluvia calmed the gentleman in question as he attended to his vocation.

Obstacle: this lovely MiniSims, bound for the racks at a retail surf venue, received an aesthetic blemish at some point during the construction process, rendering it unbound for the retail surf venue.

Opportunity: It's for sale!

Stats: 5'6x 21.5x 2.75. Convex to concave bottom, marine ply keels, S-deck with some serious foil in the nose, rails, and tail. A shred-ready wave-catching gnar machine.

Feel free to make an offer, though I won't subtract dollars for the blemish--you lived with them in high school, you can certainly live with one on the deck of your surfboard.

Looks more avocadoey and less limey in the real world.

In the spirit of wine country pretention, I recommend pairing this new surfboard with a dram of Bruichladdich 10yr old single malt scotch.

Why? They're both classic expressions crafted in the old style. However, far from relics, they offer saucy surprise after saucy surprise. In the case of the MiniSims, it's blazing speed and maneuverability. For the Bruichladdich, it's caramel, toffee, and...who's that knocking at the back door?...our old friend Mr. A Hint of Fudge and Brine.

Both offer smooth salty goodness. Another opportunity!

*interestingly, even though used sparingly and just once, the proffered object made this guy's armpits itch for a full week.

Blues for Tues: of Mini-Simmons, Thanksgiving, and Snickers

Nothing says, "America's fuggin rad" quite like the calendar stretch that encompasses both Halloween and Thanksgiving. The two holidays capture America at its best: creative, free of secular nonsense, and steeped in sharing.

They also capture the best as aspects of consumption, which, when it comes to Russian River pinot noir and Snickers Bars, isn't a bad thing at all.

These four weeks also hold the promise of epic surf conditions for California--active storm systems to both our north and south, warmer water temperatures, and an end to the devil winds of summer.

Not so much this year, though.

The good news is that despite this season's meager surf offerings, creativity and consumption have flourished. Especially if you're Fred, who has already consumed several waves on this baby blue 5'7, and expressed his freaky side on their wide-open faces.

And a solid community put this thing together: foam by the good people of US Blanks, glass by the talented hands at Almar Surf Works in Santa Cruz, and fins by Marlin Bacon of 101 Fin Co.

Have a great Thanksgiving. Don't forget to call someone and tell them you love them, even if you're exaggerating a little bit--they'll never know, and you'll feel that much better as you dig into some beaujolais nouveau.

Fall Haiku

Fred's Mini-Simmons.Curves all over the goddamn place.
Just in time for fall.

Found Footage

Reports that this board exists cannot be confirmed or denied, or that it is a 5'8 MiniSimmons twin fin for new homeowner (and roof repairer), married man, dog rescuer, solar enthusiast, and all-around stoked bro Chad.

If such a board were, in fact, to exist, it may or may have not been glassed by Junod and crew at Almar in Santa Cruz.

The Greymember

William Shakespeare didn't live in Northern California. If he had, his Sonnet 18, which compares his beloved to a summer's day, would have mentioned northwest winds, coastal fog, and dry riesling before 5pm. He redeems himself at the beginning of the third stanza, however, by introducing the concept of the 'eternal summer' inside us. He concludes the stanza with a reference to 'eternal lines' as well. Perhaps The Bard was a surfer after all...?
Anyway, stoked Bay Area shredder Dan has a plan for the eternal lines of summer: The Greymember.
The board stands a diminutive, yet fleshy 5'4" with a slimming dark cedar stringer and Member-specific keels.
The slate gray opaque reverse wrap (tapered!) reinforces the tombstone likeness, and just a hint of swallow tail keeps things lively in the back.
The "S" deck: meat where you want it, neat where you don't.
When I told Dan this was strictly a head high and under board, he said, "I'm gonna ride it in overhead Ocean Beach."
The kid's got moxie!

The Gold Member

Fatty was spotted outside her natural habitat (glassing room, sanding room, couch) the other day—a cause for celebration.
Reasons she seldom leaves the Fattyshack are numerous. They include nurturing chickens, eggs, carnivorous plants, crickets, lizards, snakes, plants, cats, dogs, and Bob.
Then there’s the business of her business—returning calls from pain-in-the-ass shapers, installing fin boxes, laminating, hotcoating, pinlining, sanding, glossing, more sanding, and polishing, organizing pickup and delivery, cracking beers…
Somewhere in there she sneaks in water, a little pot pie, maybe some season two of Dexter.
Understandable she rarely leaves, so understandable the cause for celebration when she did last week.
On this particular Big Trip to Town, Fatty picked up an ailing lizard from the vet, then came over with some delicious Fattyshack-grown organic eggs. She also dropped off a freshly glassed mini-Simmons with accompanying Chanukkah-inspired treats. My zadie would approve!

Free bag of Chanukkah gelt with each Gold Member!

Wine was opened. Peppers were stuffed. Conversation arose. Boards were discussed. Shapers heralded. The economy cursed. Delicious Costello cheese was munched, appreciated, reduced to delicious crumbs (which were then chomped by a sneaky hound mutt).
Had our President-elect solved our woes? Not quite yet, but we felt it was close. Just a little bit more spit and shoeshine, maybe a quick shot of WD-40.
All was well.
When Fatty split the next morning, she brought with her some freshly-shaped blanks, a highly medicated bearded iguana, and two old-as-hell longboards she had unearthed from beneath my deck. Her purpose?
“Fix em up. Give em away.”
I love this lady.
Did I mention she dropped off the mini-Simmons just in time for our annual Thanksgiving pilgrimage to San Onofre?

If this board looks stringerless, it is because it has no stringer

Profile shot highlights S deck, rocker, and shiny wood floors

If you see a posse of Tecated stokers sporting lovely Fatty Fiberglass-ed boards, stop by and say hey. Have some beach-cooked turkey, a slice of pie, a beverage, and an earful of inappropriate language from the Brothers Baird.
And take this baby for a spin.

ps: check out Sonoma Coast Surf Shop's newly launched website here. Cool folks who are stoked to be a part of the Northcoast surf scene!