http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/07/29/CM2FR5JOU2.DTL
So THATS what Steven Segall has been doing lately. Mike
Jon
when I was a kid in the 70’s we used to get those from Savon they were called Surfriders for about 8 bucks.
If you had one of those you were a king at the beach.
way cool !!!
the photo is not quite right.
the story it tells is
down right yellow journalizm
the apparent dominance of the
sweeping cliffside is in
dominant opposition to the incoming surf
and neither the mat or surfing it
are represented.
this is a travestry of reporting an should be submitted to the
phewlitzer committee for diciplinary action.
of course this could all be avoided with an extensive mat surfing
reniasance article written by competent and participating
mad matters…
…ambrose…
ply the gay audience?
ambrose bierce rolled over in his grave
the voice of the west aint what it used to be.
Hey Ambrose
sorry I didnt get back by your place, the wifie got ill and had to hang on the south side.
I still need dimensions for a 70’s 8’ 6" reto bolt gun including wide point from center
please
So happy this article happened. Jon’s a great rep for mat surfing.
Here’s two of my favorite pics of him on his favorite craft, and beneath that a few paragraphs which show the man’s stoke and soul. They were written by him as part of a round-robin on the Dale.
literally screaming down the line
he made this takeoff
On a clear late December morning with powerful surf and howling sideshores, I got a call on my cell. It was the East Coast crew, fresh off a red-eye. They were on their way to Santa Cruz and looking for surf.
They reached me on my morning West Cliff Drive surf check. I had looked at the Lane, It Beach, Stockton and Natural Bridges as well as Mitchell’s Cove. The swell was a super-fast, fresh WNW with tons of power, producing a roaring, down coast current. Everything was blown out mush, except for Mitchell’s. I told the guys I would check the east side, hoping for less wind damage, and call back.
I was at Mitchell’s as we spoke. I told them it was firing and full of menace, the current was hell-on-wheels and sweeping directly into “Death Rocks.” This is an aptly-named area that you are going to visit, like it or not, if you ride too far down the line on a heavy-duty Mitchell’s wave. “Not for the out-of-towner” was my thought at the time.
I hustled over to the east side and did a quick scope of the scene, all the way to New Brighton Beach. Everything sucked.
They called again. They were already at Mitchell’s and suiting up!
“Okay, I’m on my way, but wait for me to get there before you go out.”
I stopped at the restrooms at the Lane, and as I came out to my van, I ran into some veterans of First Peak Steamers, scoping the Lane from the cliff, wisely awaiting better conditions. I stopped to say “hey,” and got a wry assessment of conditions from Ziggy and the crew: a no-go.
“But I saw some guys at Mitchell’s runnin’ out to the cliff,” said Zig. “I don’t know…”
I work as a City of Santa Cruz Marine Rescue Lifeguard, and my alter ego rushed forward at that moment. “I gotta go!” I said, and dashed for the van.
I raced down West Cliff to Mitchell’s just in time to see a kneelo on the outside take off deep, get a quick cover up and schralp the heck out of a pitching, growling, wind-molested freight train. I could also see what looked like a mat surfer working his way back to the top against the 5-8 knot current. And was that a spoon surfer on the inside section? I’d never even seen one in the water before!
I parked, stripped, and suited-up in one motion and ran down to the hidden stairs. I paddled out to each of my new surf buddies and introduced myself with a safety lecture about Death Rocks to ease my conscience. Not necessary, I realized; my new bros had it under control.
“Under control”- on a day when only a couple hard core West Side locals wanted any part of the action. They were in for the whole enchilada. We had an epic session that morning in some of the most vicious wind and current I’ve ever surfed. I was in the water with fellow misfits, united in our choice of deeply alternative surf vehicles and a taste for adventurous surf.
The next week was filled with more of the same in all conditions–a great tour of the fantastic spots we are graced with here on the Monterey Bay. I met some underground legends, garage geniuses, hardened enthusiasts and young surf philosophers that I’ll always remember.
The photos attest to the fun we had. I’ve never seen so many that I was actually in. A pro surf photog on the beach at every session? Was I dreaming? For a few days in a stellar winter in Santa Cruz I had a lot to be thankful for. Thankful to Dale, to Ambrose, and to Mark for being able to be part of this gathering of the most well-adjusted misfits on earth!