Lake Tahoe Classic 2014 Relocates Starting Line

September 24, 2014, Lake Tahoe, California and Nevada.

"Zach! How ya feelin' this morning?" I asked this question in Lake Tahoe's dawn chill. Zach's response, delivered with a grin, was to the point: he'd been up all night. 

Dawn over South Tahoe's El Dorado Beach

(Click on photos to enlarge, hit <esc> key to return)

It was refreshing to have strong representation from Santa Cruz. But the race was an afterthought. Craig Waltz's bachelor party had been held in Tahoe City the night before the race. Why not combine that with a 22-mile race the next morning? All-nighter notwithstanding, I knew what to expect. I had done well in previous races here. That was clearly about to change, and I was actually stoked to watch it unfold.

The presence of Santa Cruz Ghostryders wasn't the only change from past Tahoe Classics. All previous races started from the South Shore's Camp Richardson and ended at the North Shore's Kings Beach (that course was actually 21 miles, though advertised as 22). This year's starting line moved to South Tahoe's El Dorado Beach.  The new course would have been even shorter, had the course's first leg not been directed westbound to a buoy near Tahoe Keys. It turned out to be 22.5 miles.

We were greeted at dawn by pure glass. Cold air survived sunrise, at least for a while. Predictions were for strong south-southwest winds by noon. 

A challenge for new racers is the impossibility of seeing Kings Beach from the starting line. Earth's curvature causes two six-foot persons to disappear from each others' site when 18 miles apart.  For that reason, you have no chance of spotting Kings Beach until you're well beyond the halfway point.

It's important to know what to look for in order to aim for Kings Beach, especially because the first leg of the race (as reconfigured this year) runs west, not north.

To get a sense of the view, log on to Google Maps, select "Earth" view, and play around with the tilt feature.  Here's a screenshot:

In the above Google Maps screenshot, King's Beach is all the way to the left. Crystal Bay is all the way to the right. Brockway Point is near the center, just above the word, "Google". A ridge runs up the mountain from Brockway Point (there are two light brown spots as you look up that ridge). Look above that, to the highest ridge visible along the sky (ignoring the mountain peaks in the far background). To the right, above Crystal Bay, is a large brown region (in various shades). The left end of the darker part of the brown region is your marker from the south side of the lake.

On the approach to Kings Beach, a red tile roof will appear. That's the community center, and it's at the left end of the beach. The race's finish is somewhere to the right of that.

Me, Mike McDaniel: ready.

For this year's race, two buoys marked the starting line, about a quarter mile offshore. It was shallow enough on the way out that we had to carry our boards most of the way, so it was important to head out as soon as it was announced we'd be starting soon.

Getting off the starting line, I was eager to put my new Bark 16' 6" unlimited through its paces. As we headed for Tahoe Keys, I caught up with a couple of Santa Cruz friends. But after we turned north, it wasn't long before it was just me and the lake.

Lake Tahoe isn't a technical paddle. It's just long and requires focus that matches that length. Towards the end, there's a current running west around Brockway Point, so it's best to be vigilant about not winding up too far west -- unless the southwest wind comes up. But being too far east can make it difficult to overcome a current that runs into Crystal Bay. All that means minding your line in the last third of the race.

While I always work for the best performance I can muster, I also am mindful of how much I look forward each year to being on this very special (some say sacred) lake. That mindset focuses me on what's around me in the present. This day, blindingly brilliant white clouds dappled the sky. The effect on the lake's surface was an ongoing dynamic dance of that pure white upon the lake's blue surface, a paisley pattern in motion.  The colors and texture of the sky, the lake, the trees and the granite peaks were mesmerizing, enchanting, majestic.

I stayed slightly west, anticipating the predicted strong southwest wind. While the lake's surface was still glass, a water patrol boat approached me, manned by two official-looking gents. One asked if I was heading straight to shore. My impulse was to quip that my race result depended on that, but I just said, "Yes." "Good" was the response, followed by, "Strong winds are expected" in a warning tone. My next thought, which I didn't say out loud, was: BRING IT ON!!!! Clearly, these folks had never heard of the Davenport Downwinder.

Near the end, although not soon enough for my taste, the wind kicked in abruptly, like a switch had been thrown. I had positioned myself just west of Kings Beach and now got to surf my way home.

DeeAnn, four of my cousins and our neighbors from Carmel greeted me as I crossed the finish mat.  This new course had taken me 4:54:37 to complete. San Diego's Todd Robinson won it in 3:55:42. Second was Santa Cruz's Mike Dilloughery (4:21:59), followed by Groom-To-Be Craig Waltz (4:25:46). All three finished before the wind kicked up, so they actually paddled that fast!

My good friend and training partner Mike McDaniel got caught too far east. He won a lengthy battle to get to the inside of Brockway Point and then to the finish. The wind was so strong that some standup paddlers were going to their knees, or even going prone to finish, in spite of the fact it was a tailwind.

We didn't stay long on the beach - it was that windy. The sky was also turning a very strange pinkish-grey in the southwest. It turned out that was caused by smoke carried in on the southwest winds from the massive King Fire. That tragedy ultimately caused extensive damage and also cancelled Lake Tahoe's Iron Man. I was thankful we weren't inhaling that smoke during the race.

When we arrived at our Holiday House base, the visible effects of the fire had greatly intensified. 

View from Holiday House of smoke spreading over Lake Tahoe

Our hostess and owner of The Holiday House, Alvina Patterson, informed us that the wind was so high that a boat capsized in front of Captain Jon's (just to our west). I grabbed my board, paddled out, and took a few photos. The next morning we watched a crew right the boat. Hopefully, it was restored after that.

In the end, it was another great year that had its own unique way of unfolding. That included the fun of visiting with my cousins and introducing them to some of Tahoe's many wonders. But the sadness of the fire lingered, a reminder of how precious Tahoe is.

Course Adjustment: Sixth Annual West Cliff Challenge

 
I was stoked to be doing this year's race with Mike McDaniel and our friends from Santa Cruz. It's a small race, less than 20 this year, in a stunning venue that offers both challenges and fun.

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September in Santa Cruz can bring on just about any conditions, from glass to whipped-up seas to solid waves. This year, a solid south swell stripped Mitchell's Cove of sand and also made the location too treacherous.

 It was decided to start and finish the race at Collins Cove (next to Cowell Beach), as well as to eliminate the leg that rounds the Coast Guard Buoy outside of the San Lorenzo river. The course, as revised, was: paddle from Collins Cove to the buoy outside of Natural Bridges State Beach, taking the buoy on the left shoulder, then back to Collins Cove.

We were treated to moderate northwest winds for our 1 pm (+) start. Although the winds were light inside the cove, a puff of wind blew off my cap shortly into the race. That wasn't just any cap, it was a red Bryson Burns Construction cap given to me by Nick Bryson. It's been protecting the Jones noggin for several years, from Jay Races, to Catalina Classics, to Davenport Downwinders (3) and even Kauai's very breezy Napali Coast.

Paddlers needed to make a choice of line from Seal Rock (just outside of Steamer Lane) to Natural Bridges. Kelp beds offered shelter from headwinds and chop, but at the risk of taking a set wave on the head.

Aaron McKennon took the outside line and I took my cue from him. Aaron's feet just got smaller and smaller as the race progressed. Once past Steamer lane, the wind picked up. It was all upwind to Natural Bridges. But on the way back, it was all bumps. And my Bark 14-footer loves bumps.

After rounding Seal Rock, a choice had to be made: whether to take a like close to the cliffs, risking a clean-up set from the south swell, or swing wide of the lane. I chose the latter, missing an opportunity to surf an open face into Cowell's.

Mike McDaniel finishes

What fun. I loved the course, the day, and all my paddling friends.  I would gladly have taken two laps. 

13th Annual Surftech Jay Moriarity Paddleboard Race (June 2014)

The annual race celebrating the positive and formidable force that is Jay Moriarity continues to grow in size, yet remain fresh. And on this day, the Jay Race entered its teen years.   Regardless of whether you knew Jay “then”, this event can be relied upon to breathe life into his legacy, so you can know something of what Jay has become now.

This always gets me off to a good start: I love getting to Capitola beach early and watching everything come together. The event structures go up (including a kids' obstacle course), paddleboard-laden cars roll in, and paddlers stake out beach real estate.  Eventually, walking a straight line on the beach becomes impossible - the place is littered with boards and "encampments". Amid all this, everyone prepares for the day’s race events and begin connecting with each other.

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Where it all begins and ends

My good friend and paddling partner, Mike McDaniel (aka "M2"), and me (aka "M1")

Capitola color in morning light

Arrivals

DeeAnn (my wife) decided to view this year’s race from the water by going out on Chardonnay II, the lead boat for the stand-up paddleboard division of the long course (proceeds go to the Santa Cruz Junior Lifeguard Program).  So, after dropping off Mike McDaniel and me at the beach to set up, she headed off for the harbor. 

Meanwhile, Mike and I went to work setting up his Mile 22 beach canopy, our hang-out for the day.

After that, we checked in, picking up our goodie bags, Jay Race T-shirts and race jerseys. Next was submitting to someone marking our race numbers on various body parts and taking our assigned race chips to wrap around our ankles. Then we prepped our prone boards and said “hi” to many friends and friends whose names I just haven’t yet learned (this can take awhile – names aren’t a strong suit). I hadn’t seen Nick Bryson and family in some time. Nick paddled the short course with son Drew (this was Drew’s inaugural appearance at age 9). I made two new friends earlier this year as I sold off both my paddleboards, and both of the new owners were about to put their new acquisitions to the test.

From the "other end" of Monterey Bay, Bill Jones, Paul Wetterau and Shane Scoggins (2^nd place men’s stock, ages 18-49) showed for this year’s race, in addition to Mike and me. But we missed Monterey homie Mike Roberts (aka "M3"). 

My new Bark 14-foot paddleboard needed a Jay sticker, and Kim Moriarity was kind enough to supply it. That was my excuse to have a chat. Somehow she always has a moment for everyone. Kim’s very bright light illuminates just about every aspect of this day.

This year’s dedication ceremony began with beautiful Hawaiian mele. And Frosty Hesson’s remarks are always a great way to set the tone for all that comes next. Frosty revealed that he lets what he’s about to say come to him on the spot. This year it was about each of us learning to  and appreciate our unique aspects. Frosty used himself as an example. Perceived weaknesses, when examined closely and appreciated properly transform into strengths. For example, Frosty said he has a short attention span. He suggested, instead of buying into social convention that views that as a weakness, learn to appreciate it and use it to best advantage.  It’s a great lesson to keep in mind every day.   

It was announced this year’s race was dedicated to Robin "Zeuf" Janiszeufski Hesson (1959 – 2013), the first woman to have paddleboarded across Monterey Bay.

The 12-mile course (my challenge of choice) was evenly split between 88 paddleboards and 88 stand-up paddleboards (176 total). Ages ranged from 13-year-old Kali‘a Alexiou (SUP) to 69-year-old Suzanne Riedlinger (Paddleboard). Suzanne was sporting a new Bark model because, as she put it, she deserved a new paddleboard before reaching age 70. So, it looks like she's not planning to let up any time soon! Then there were the short course and the kids’ events, where there were even younger contestants. Finally, the Waterman’s Challenge was offered to the tireless. That challenge is described on the Race’s web page as: “Swim, Stock Prone Paddleboard and SUP – all three events are combined to determine the top male and female over-all waterman!”

Between the opening ceremony and the race’s start, I was able to squeeze in a short warm-up paddle. There was just enough time to get back to the beach and line up. This year I felt confident, free of the anxiety that regularly creeps over me at the start. Although it was partly sunny when we arrived in Capitola, by race time it had clouded over and there was some haze. That brought to mind last year’s fog-induced delay. But today it was announced the harbor patrol cleared us for an on-time start.

So, off we went, churning water and jockeying for position.

Mike McDaniel (blue board), followed by Suzanne Riedlinger

Matt Becker, rounding the first buoy

Paul Wetterau, digging

Joe Bark

This year, I decided to try something new: sticking with other paddlers. This keeps me in moving water, which trumps my long-time misguided notion I never seemed to shake until now: that I can get ahead by finding my own line. Truth is: I’ve never been that good at reading the water.  

Eventually, I became part of a paddling chain – an enormous advantage. The two leaders were taking turns at the front. I offered to take my turn, but wasn’t taken seriously (too bad for them!!) Chardonnay II caught up with us before we reached the Municipal pier, and DeeAnn was able to capture some nice photos.

Rounding the Mile Buoy - Carter Graves giving chase

Reaching the Mile Buoy means the race is half over and that it’s time to catch bumps. Most years, it has been a downwind leg. This year there was no wind, but there were some bumps anyway. The paddling chain broke as we each focused on hunting down runners. Two of the other paddlers I had been with were further out to sea, and were going about my speed.  As we approached the final turn, I figured I had the inside line. But both got in front of me and I never caught them. As a result, I came in right behind Jeff Denholm.

As I crossed the finish, I remembered to pull my timing chip off of my left leg. But it was missing. Note to self for future races: slip the wetsuit cuff over the timing chip.

I immediately notified the race official standing at the finish line, and was assigned an estimated time: 2 hours, 22 minutes – good enough to claim 2^nd fourteen, age class 50 and over.

Then came a minor shock. I talked with another race official who informed me I owed $30 for the missing race chip.

In running (for example, the big Sur Half Marathon), a $30 replacement charge is standard, and each contestant is given written notice of that consequence before the race.  The Jay Race gave no such notice. And this is the ocean, after all – she can rip off just about anything, or so I argued.

After a little cooling off and a little reflection, I realized the most important thing to me was to keep it positive at the Jay Race. These folks deserve my support, not my excuses. I paid the $30. Cash. What I got in return was more appreciation that I had any right to expect.

Here’s the headline news from this year’s Jay Race: Santa Cruz local Aaron McKinnon put the world on notice by blowing away the paddleboard field, winning in 1:49:01. It’s nice to have the trophy in the hands of a homey. He’ll be one to watch at this year’s Catalina Classic.

The after-party was packed, as in sold out. Mike and Lisa elected to skip the meal and head up to the Crow’s Nest. As I stood gazing in some direction I now can’t recall, I got tapped on the shoulder by a good friend I hadn’t yet had a chance to say “hi” to. And so, a great day got even better.

Thanks to all who made this special day possible, and thanks to the people of Capitola for allowing us to overrun your beautiful beach (and parking). 

The future looks bright indeed

 

12th Annual Jay Race - Not Business As Usual

The paddleboard race with the sunniest vibe anywhere has to be the Surftech Jay Moriarity Memorial Paddleboard Race, aka the Jay Race. And indeed, the sun greeted us as we arrived in Capitola.

My first clue this day wouldn’t be business as usual came when DeeAnn and I learned an entire parking lot was being held off-limits to most of us. I later discovered the size of this event had nearly tripled. But we were there so early, it didn’t matter.

Next, our brilliant sun disappeared: fog moved in rather suddenly and for the first time in the six years I’ve been here, the race was delayed. We couldn’t see the first turn buoy from shore, and word came from the harbor that visibility wasn’t adequate to start the race at 8:30 a.m., as planned.  

Thanks to DeeAnn for the photos ... and soooo much loving support. Click on any photo on enlarge, hit <Esc> to return to the blog.

There goes the visibility ...

Privates may as well be, well, ... private.

No matter. There was plenty of sunshine supplied by organizers, the Santa Cruz paddling community, and visiting paddlers alike -- and none more than Kim Moriarity. There was good reason to smile. We were around 350 strong, diverse in both age and equipment, and ready for fun.  I don’t think I’m going too far out on a limb to say the Jay Race now ranks on par with any in the world in challenge, venue and vibe. Indeed, the field includes regulars from the Catalina Classic, Molokai-2-Oahu, and many others (it’s also a qualifying race for the Catalina Classic).

The late start wasn’t the only difference in this year’s conditions. We were told there wasn’t going to be much wind, if any.  That meant the leg normally supplying a nice push home wasn’t going to live up to its reputation. And the incoming tide would be going against us as we headed out to the Mile Buoy.

Knowing there’d be a wait, but not knowing how long, I opted for a warm-up paddle. When I got back to shore, I spotted Reno Caldwell and his board. I ran up the beach and nearly succeeded in spearing him before he noticed me. My war shout might have gotten his attention. All in good fun, of course! We talked a while, then I headed up the beach to hang with DeeAnn. Then I took a jog on the beach to the volleyball net and back.

We waited and waited. The fog was in charge at this point.

But Mike McDaniel and Liza Ortiz knew there are ways to stay warm.

Checking in with Reno Caldwell. Reno is about to smoke the field of fourteens.

Bill Jones, Monterey Legend who still travels and rips.

Paul Wettereau, uncharacteristically (haha) stoked.
He probably worked until after 1 am (Paul's a sommelier), slept a few minutes, and still got here on time.

Ed Guzman (Club Ed surfschool). Nuthin' but sunshine. Fog? What fog??

I never get tired of seeing all my paddling friends so lit up.

Finally, nearly an hour after the intended start time, we were cleared to go.

Next, another change was announced: we’d have a beach start, the first in my six years in this event.

The Carmel Surfabout distance paddle is a beach start. That race is for surfboards only, and it’s about a 1.5 mile sprint paddle. At that race, I had fun sprinting for the water, board under my arm.

For me, an endurance-length paddleboard race is different.  I have a 14-foot paddleboard under my arm that’s rigged with mounted water bottles and taped-on gels. I’d like those things to be on my board for the whole race. And in a race as packed as this one, it wouldn’t be hard to bang into another Bark board (cost: over $2,000 new). Nope, no sprinting for me!

Some run harder than others.

But we all made into the water. Now to business: 12 miles to go.

Right out of the gates, Reno, aka "Redondo Rocket," was living up to his nickname. He didn’t give a second thought to running into the water at full speed. I managed to pull up behind him, showed myself I could keep up for a few dozen yards, then decided it would be a bad idea for me to go out that fast. So much for bragging rights. Reno went on to take the 14-foot division.

It was a little spooky paddling towards the lead boat and into the fog. I could see (and smell) the boat even as we rounded the first orange buoy and headed towards the not-yet-visible green buoy sitting outside Pleasure Point.  Somewhere not far past the orange buoy sat a familiar local greeter on his longboard: Brian Spear. With full fishing gear. I wished Brian luck and advised against taking anything over ten feet.

Since there’s no sprinting in a race this long, it’s not hard to exchange conversation with other paddlers – although no more than a sentence or two in turn. It makes the race more fun and it’s a reality check on whether I’m staying within my abilities. Somewhere between Pleasure Point and the Municipal Pier, Joe Bark caught up with me. Joe paddles a 15’ 6” unlimited. We said hi and Joe told me that prone paddleboards are getting more popular (he should know!). I’m very happy to hear that. I had imagined that stand-up paddling was edging out prone paddling. But Joe said our SUP counterparts are crossing over, and others are adopting prone paddling for cross training. I thought of Joel Parkinson, who team paddled the Molokai-2-Oahu race last year. That same year, Joel finally was crowned ASP’s world champion. After all those seconds, it seems to me that paddling Molo must have helped make a difference in some way. Or so I’d like to believe.

Neither Joe nor I could spot the Municipal Pier until we were within about a mile. It looked to me as though we, and the paddlers in front of us, had gone wide. Joe agreed.  It was now a straight shot to the next turn buoy sitting beyond and inside the pier’s end. About then, Matt Becker sped past us both on his SUP. He and Joe exchanged a sentence or two, I chimed in with my cheer, and off he went.

Passing the pier and rounding our next turn, we were now headed for deep water and the Mile Buoy. I say “we” loosely; Joe has now passed me and I won’t be chatting with him any further. Nor with anyone else.

The paddle out to the Mile Buoy is smooth, unlike any other year. It’s normally a battle against crosswind chop. Today, it’s near-glass, but we’re paddling into a rising tide, slowing us down. I can hear the buoy’s low, throaty organ-like note, but can’t see it. The direction of that sound suggests to me that the SUPs I can see are wide. I decide to stay with my line as there’s no crosswind to carry me to my left.

I’m now used to the idea that it’s a long paddle out to the buoy. Even so, it’s a long paddle out to the buoy. I finally see it when I’m less than half a mile away. Some time after that I hear a sea lion barking.  I look up and find I’m nearly there.

Rounding the buoy on my left shoulder, I’m now headed back to the Pleasure Point green buoy. But visibility is still low. I can see neither the next buoy nor Pleasure Point. Because I have no way to visually gauge my progress and because there’s no tailwind, this segment feels considerably longer than in any past race. What I see ahead is a long line of silent, slender, surreal sentinels -- silhouetted stand up paddlers doing battle all the way into foggy oblivion.

Before the race began, Frosty Hesson said it’s important to go inside yourself and see what you’re really capable of doing. With no ability to see Pleasure Point approach and no one to talk with, it was time to do that now.

There was no need to feel discouraged. I reminded myself to trust my training. If this was going to be a grind, I was ready. I focused on my paddling mechanics, my breathing, and the sea. There were some bumps to catch if I paid attention. Each ride felt like a small triumph earned. All other ways to distract myself from the work to be done were, quite literally, out of sight and out of reach. I settled in and got myself to the green buoy.

Finally, I could see Pleasure Point. Once there, only about 2½ miles is left. I wasn’t feeling fast, but I was feeling capable and I was still enjoying this paddle.

Meanwhile ...

Reno, laughing while killing.

Paul Wettereau, job well done.

 And now it's my turn ...

On the approach ...

Able to walk and run ...

And done.

Mike McDaniel, strong and over the line.

And in case I took myself too seriously, the first thing anyone said to me after I crossed the finish line was something like: “Could you please move aside, a lot of kids will be coming through soon.”

And in case I thought I had maybe worked even somewhat hard, Joe Bark joined a few other elites to do the the Waterman Challenge: 500m Swim, 1000m Stock Prone Paddleboard and 1500m 12’6″ SUP.

Nick and Jody Bryson.
Nick ate 'em alive and won the stock class on the 2-mile course.

The sun is finally out, at least in Capitola. I’m elated that I have accomplished the paddle and that I’m part of this great event, the 12^th Annual Jay Race. There’s no such thing as just another 12 miles, and there’s no such thing as business as usual when we come to the ocean. And thank God for that!

So, thank you Capitola for welcoming us and permitting us to overrun your beach, and to all the locals who are so genuinely friendly and who contribute everything from smiles to sponsorship, to setup, to raffle prizes, to safety. Total strangers took the time to introduce themselves to me. In Hawai'i, all of this is called "Aloha." This event was so great that Gerry Lopez said he'd be back next year. How good is that?

The after-party rocked, too: great outdoor setup, perfect weather, rockin’ band, great food, loads of time to visit with friends, and a truly well-run awards ceremony. From the groms on up, all honors were well-deserved. If we lived a little closer it would’ve been nice to have stayed for the screening of Chasing Mavericks. But it was time for us to go home, and for me to start dreaming about next year’s 13^th Annual Jay Moriarity Paddleboard Race.

11th Annual Jay Race (2012)

I'm still a relative newcomer to Paddleboarding. My first Jay race was five years ago, in 2008, when I was "just 54." I'm slowly getting to know some people in the paddling community, and that in spite of being exceptionally slow with names. Those connections make me look forward to the races for an entirely non-racing reason. There are exceptional people in this sport. There are others with whom I haven't had the chance to talk much, but still light me up on sight. Then there's the one I never met in person: Jay Moriarity. But thanks to this race that bears his name and the front-and-center group of his closest (starting with Kim Moriarity), his positive influence not only lives, but grows and expands in all of us. And all of us are all ages.

It's a well-run race that attracts a huge field of paddling talent. It's a gathering of muscle and heart you'd be hard-pressed to find anywhere else, and it takes in all ages. This year, the genders in the races balanced like never before. And it's also the most family-oriented major competition in paddling, guaranteeing at once the future of the sport and the future of the city's junior lifeguards program (contest proceeds support that program). Individual accomplishment and personal connections go hand in glove. Not unlike the legendary relationship between Jay and Frosty. Or Jay and Kim.

While the race has a rep for being among the best organized, I was anything but. I barely left myself a moment to say 'hi' to anyone as I went about preparing.  But I got my board prepped and myself stretched in time to get out for warmup paddle. Visiting was going to have to wait until post race.

The organizers made one little mistake: they thought it would be okay with all of us (in the 12-mile prone race) to stay on the beach for a picture, then paddle out and more or less immediately start the race. They were wrong.

I was already in the water before this plan was announced. I was really happy to have gotten safely out, past that south swell, I fully intended to loosen up, and I was not about to head back in for any photo op at that point.

Comically, as the announcement was repeated over and over, more and more of us got in the water. Finally, sensibly, they reconciled to the inevitable and gave up on that!

Thus, the 12-mile prone paddleboard race began promptly at 8:30 AM.

If you were a spectator on Capitola beach and all you saw was the race's start and finish, then all you saw was smooth glass punctuated by a decent south swell. But as we in the race approached Pleasure Point, headwinds became a factor.

Paddling upwind means negotiating chop. It's not uncommon to train by first paddling upwind for resistance training and then turning downwind for a fun finish to the workout. That approach came in handy now.

Then there was that pesky current by the Santa Cruz Municipal Pier that wanted to carry us out to sea, challenging us to make the next buoy that marked our turn beyond the pier.  The leg after the turn runs crosswind, as we make our way out the "Mile Buoy" (located about a mile outside of Santa Cruz Harbor). The wind kicked up even more, making it with fairly challenging crosswind leg.

Once at the Mile Bouy, and having been greeted by a local pack of vocal seals whose residence appears to be said buoy, the real fun began: a very nice downwind run to surf our way back to Pleasure Point. There were plenty of bumps to catch and surf, and the bumps were lined up, speeding us back towards Capitola.

The race ended as it began, in glass, but you were aware that south swell could send you over the falls at the end. Unlike last year (when I got smashed on the way in), I got lucky this year.

It was fun training for it, it was fun anticipating it, it was way fun actually being out there, and it was way, way fun hanging with everyone after it was over  - beginnning with my usual training partners (Mike "M2" McDaniel (trained less but bested his last year's performance), Mike "M3"Roberts, Paul Wetterau (trains a little and kicks butt anyway), and Nick Bryson.

At the end of the day ... was a party. And some awards were passed out, too.

In the Fourteen Foot prone class, Joe Beek came in first, Reno Caldwell got second, and I got third. It felt just amazing to be in their company.

Kim took the time to stand with each group of winners and pose for a picture. She is the queen of the contest and she is quick to light up every one of us. Long may she reign!

And to DeeAnn, thanks, with all my heart. This was very special year indeed.

Quick 'hi' to Josh on the way out.

Mike McDaniel board check, Mike Roberts, supplicant.

Good year, gender balance progress was substantial.

Paul Wetterau marches to the battlefield.

Mike McDaniel, smiling about the pain sure to follow.

Mike Eaton, meet Joe Bark, Joe, meet Mike.

We all decided to get out there, even as the call for a group photo fell on deaf ears.

.

Jarrett Winter (foreground), Paul Wetterau (with green board), and others.

The prone paddleboard field: over 50

Jamie Mitchell, 1st SUP.

This year, I caught a nice one in. For once!

And I was able to find my feet (in past years, not so much)...

... and actually run to my finish. Since Mike Roberts could not assist (he came in way ahead)!

Nick Bryson, finishing strong.

Mike McDaniel, 10 minutes ahead of last year.

With Nick Bryson.

Thanks, Jody Roberts and DeeAnn for photos!