Orange Boss

Orange Boss: not John Boehner, but another punch for Chad's sandwich card.
Dude's getting close to an Ike's. You know me, I'm no betting man, but if I were I'd say he'd be all over a Jaymee Sirewich--fried chicken, yellow BBQ sauce, ranch, pepper jack, non-mouth-ruining Dutch crunch. What?!?
Chad knows a few things. How to manufacture an iron grate for subterranean pork roasting. How to convert energy from the sun to power your home. How to climb steep granite. How to shred steep waves, bounce back quickly from nose-into-the-board smashes, rescue a good dog, marry a nice lady.

This is Chad's brand-spanking new 6'6 Pitboss, all cured and ready for fall-into-winter ground-swell shredding.
The PitBoss is no Jaymee Sirewich, but it is a step-up design meant for steeper, punchier waves. It's got some volume under the chest, because steeper, punchier waves worth surfing tend to not break on the shore up here. So you need to paddle to them. Sometimes pretty far. Sometimes you need to be able to lift your head up as high as you can when you're paddling to see over the 'bump' in front of you to the 'wave' behind it.
Sometimes you wish you hadn't seen the wave behind it, and were instead on your couch with a dram of Kilchoman bingewatching Quickdraw on Hulu.

This one's a quad. And a thruster.
The deep orange palette is Chad's nice-lady approved.

 Round pintail is standard on these mofos. I've done a few baby swallows, but they look weird to me. And sharp.

Just the hint of a beak nose--not enough beak to affect the ride, just an aesthetic nod to the larger-wave shredders and shapers who came before us. Bigger-wave riding has a history of folks with large balls and large ladyballs, and does not include me.

Top notch resin colowork from Almar in Santa Cruz, fins from Rainbow in Watsonville, foam from US Blanks in Gardenia. California is awesome.

October

If March roars in like a lion, then October pads in giddily like a golden retriever, all joy and gentle reminder.

You may need these, October suggests, your socks cradled in her mouth as you creep out of bed at dawn, suddenly darker than it was last week. Or this, she says, nuzzling a sweatshirt.

October points to the Thermos you almost forgot on your way out the door, the hotwater jug, the hat October knows you’ll be glad you remembered when you get out of the water.

October rides shotgun to the coast, head out the window, head back in to look at you, warm lips stretched into a smile, and asks, isn’t this amazing?

And it is.

And then you’re at the coast and October is bounding in a frenzy, dizzily pointing the soft cylinder of her nose at the sea—its cloudy breath and slick, morning-gold surface.

Then she’s wriggling, belly on the ground and you lower yourself to see what she’s got. Down here, she implores, listen. And you press your ear to the ground—wet, fresh—and you hear it. Thump Thump Thump of October’s tail on the packed earth.

Thump Thump Thump of the waves’ as they shatter onto sand.

Thump Thump Thump.

Deeper you listen, eyes closed.

Thump Thump Thump it goes.

Winter’s almost here.

iAdios, Verano!

So long, Summer. We humbly stand at the dock and salute your fickle ship as it sails west, or south, or wherever the hell you go when it comes time to turn off my landscape irrigation.

You greeted us with some fun Baja peelers, as evidenced by Mrs. HHG, a fun Baja peeler, and the view from our rented deck that was tough to relax on because the kids kept pretending to throw themselves over the rails. Ha!

Kids.

One night you looked like this, and made our dog hide in the closet for two days.
Explosions!

You brought out the east-coast creepie crawlies, and introduced my daughters to a new river, the Housatonic, to add to their ever-expanding list of awkward public places to take off their clothes.
Crawdads!

Now you've pulled anchor, and the boards coming out of my shop are starting to look like this one: PitBoss. OBSF ready. Currently resting on the racks at Almar Glassing in Santa Cruz.
More Hot PitBoss Action here.
Surfboards!

And, based on this morning's buoy readings, Summer's sweet, sweet stepsister Fall has already moved in to take her place.

Swell!

Pit Boss: know when to hold 'em

Much like its namesake in the casino, the Pit Boss keeps things in check when the dealing gets rough.

This one's loaded: five fins, red cedar stringer, and handsome coke-bottle resin tint with matching resin pinline by Leslie Anderson.
Stands a proud 6'10".

Clive Owen, who attempts to pull a fast one on his pit boss in the excellent Croupier, stands seven-and-a-half inches shorter.

Russell Crowe, a Roman style pit boss in the gladiator ring, is a mere 5'11". A board this size would not keep things in check when the dealing got rough.
At least not up here, even if you were wearing leather danglies from your waistbelt.

Bamboo glasson fins by the talented craftsman Marlin at the 101FinCo.

This Pit Boss got a tour of my house after I received several expressive emails from a surfy French buddy informing me that wood floor photos of surfboards had become cliche in the SurfBlogoShpere. Who knew?

What Would Velzy Do?

A few weeks ago BroDerek called about his new board, the twin-finned Pit Boss.
"When's that board going to be ready?" he asked.
"Picked it up last week," I said. "I'm looking at it right now."
"Well, there's no rush on it," he said. "You can tell Leslie to take her time."
"It's ready."
"Slide that baby right down to the bottom rack," he said. "Have her glass up some more urgent orders."
"I'm holding it," I said. "It's glassed, cured, and ready to ride."
"I'm a patient man," he continued. "In fact, my Christmas gift to you is my patience and selflessness. Glass up a whole batch without worrying about mine!"
I knew something was up. Turns out BroDerek was heading to Brazil for a few weeks. He also mentioned Fiji. Then something about British Columbia. And Bali.
"Mind holding onto the Boss for a little while?" he asked. "Definitely until June. Early fall at the latest."
Board storage isn't a problem at my house.
Curiosity is, however, and there's only so long a man can look at a surfboard without giving into temptation.

The Pit Boss resided upstairs, out of sight, for over a month. Then last week the buoys showed a crisp shoulder high swell with light offshores in the morning. A little sandbar peak has been throwing out fun ones lately, which got me thinking about how a hi-pro twin fin might behave...
In my own defense, I engaged in a heated internal debate. It's just not right to take the first wave on another surfer's new stick. My credibility as a shaper would be in question, my business ethic. Plus, BroDerek's not small, and could definitely kick my ass.
But the swell. And the offshores. And the fun sandbar peak. It was the first day of Chanukkah and I've been pretty good this year...

(note incriminating wax humps on 'unridden' surfboard)
Rode like a champ. The glide is tremendous--feels finless, then the twins engage on the bottom turn, and it's off to the races. Stoked, I went straight to my shop, tweaked the template a bit, then carved one out for myself.

This one has a little more meat than I'm used to at 6'10 and 2.75 thick (I've had a, um, few glasses of Sonoma County's finest Zinfandel this holiday season--drink local!)Red cedar stringer for snap and style.

A Campbell Bros. style five-fin design with quadruple concaves that's built to handle some NorCal winter juice!
As for the twinnie, my curiosity is sated and it's back in storage, to reappear this spring when the weather is just perfect for scraping wax off a board, running a buffer over it, and presenting it to its rightful owner. Brand spankin' new!
Happy Holidays.