NorCal Women's Surf Club

Hi all.

Anne here with the story of our SanO roadtrip in June, 2005. You might as well get comfy ‘cause this one’s a doozy. At least the last part. Which I’ll tell first. For fun.

Alisa, Stef, Chris, Annie, Sumika, Shizuka, Cari and I left my college friend Sara’s place in Venice early Monday morning – after 3 glorious surf days at SanO. From Venice we blasted up to Ventura. A bunch of us jumped in at C street for a few good rides. And a number of missed ones too. Shoulders and backs just weren’t putting out. Three days surfing your brains out at SanO will do that to you. J

Session over, we took off in three different cars heading home. Stef, Alisa and Chris hit Walden Surfboards in Ventura where Stef drops off a board in need of TLC. Something possessed Alisa and Chris and they each bought a 9’0” Magics on impulse.

Fast forward to Santa Barbara where Cari and I fed a burger craving, checked out a surf shop, and thought about filling up the tank. But didn’t. Fifteen miles later the gas light’s on. Uh oh. Didn’t realize we’d be on a 30-mile stretch of exit-frugal farm land. We start coasting down hills, slow down to 55 and duck behind a big rig to draft.

Our Yakima roof rack is nowhere. Instead, twisted metal shards

I laugh about the possibility of Alisa and co (pulling a sweet 17’ surf trailer) rescuing us. About 3 minutes later (no joke), the car yanks, a hair-raising ripping sound explodes above and the familiar scene of our board bags overhead is no more. It takes 2 seconds for us to realize our boards are history. We pull over, jump out, and completely freak out when see our Yakima roof rack is nowhere. Instead, twisted metal shards of Cari’s door rails are swinging in the wind where the rack used to be.

I sprint down the highway shoulder (stupid thing to do in case any groms are reading). I’m expecting to see surf board carnage. Bags ripped, board parts everywhere and the horrible sound of cars thump-thumping over whatever’s left. But I see nothing. Another 100 yards and there’s a white raft on the other side of the road. I cross over. The raft turns out to be our 3 long boards lying fins-up to the sky and still completely attached to the roof rack. None of the straps gave way. It was simply the unbelievably strong headwinds near Point Conception that ripped the entire roof-board-collection off of Cari’s Honda. Good lord.

She’s always the one to call in crisis

In a fit of efficiency we call Stef. She’s always the one to call in crisis. She picks up and asks all the right questions. Then the call gets weird. She flips into highway patrol dispatch mode. Another call’s come in. It’s Annie, Sumika and Shizuka. Their boards have just cart wheeled off their car – along with their Yakima rack. Stef jumps back to me and tells me to call the CHP. I resist for a second before realizing she’s totally right. We do. And we wait.

After a backseat CHP ride and a road-side rescue by Alisa, Stef and Chris, we’ve all convened at the Mariposa exit. We’ve got eyes bugged way out and boards lying everywhere. Funny thing is – none of us open up the bags to check for dings. We’re all just so happy to be alive – and happy to know we didn’t hurt anybody else in the process. I wiggle the fins and feel loosely around the rails as we load them into Alisa’s trailer. All seems fine – unbelievable.

OK. So, that was the end of the trip. For the rest of it, I’ll let the pictures do the talking. Suffice it to say that we had a fantastic time – and all walked away with more surf buddies to call out to in NorCal waters when we’re home!

1st session down, many to go!

Karen finding out the hard way: fake logs don’t chop like real logs

Dr. Sara, checking her patients

Stef talking story

Bonnie gets a brand new board

Sue, Lisa and dining companions