Oh, My Bloody Foot at Huntington

It’s not as awesome as the title makes it out to be, but here’s what happened.  I went out for an afternoon sesh around 11th Street in Huntington.  The report called for 3-5.  And it was the afternoon and it was breezy, so I knew the chop was going to be intense.  But this was just high comedy on the high seas.  The chop was as big as the waves.  And the waves were super undefined and unpredictable.  Sometimes walled-out, sometimes sectiony, sometimes perfect…and sometimes out of nowhere.  Anyway, I’m sitting there in the line up minding my own business, watching the kitesurfers get the best of the day and suddenly a wave comes rolling up on me.

The wave says, “Want a ride?”

I say, “Sure, if you wouldn’t mind.”  I was super polite, which is what makes the wave’s evil plan all the more diabolical.

So the wave builds toward me and I get all set and start paddling.  Everything is going great – the wave picks me up, I pop up smoothly and I take off down for the ride.  But then this other wave forms right in front of the wave I was on (I think it was the first wave’s hench-wave).  And like you do when you get a double, I tried to maneuver myself onto the front wave.  But just as I step on the gas to reach the front wave, the back wave rears up and just tosses me over the front wave.  Meanwhile the front wave suddenly jacks up to a 6 foot face.  (I know it was 6 feet because as I was flailing head-first past it, I noticed it was just as tall as I was.)

But before I hit the water, both waves broke right on me and I was tumbling in the surreal ether of the white-water.  But not the gentle tumble normally associated with white-water, more like the violent tumbling where you bounce off the sand a few times and get slapped around by your own surfboard. It was like the waves had taken my board and started smacking me with it repeatedly, while taunting, “Why are you hittin’ yourself? Why are you hittin’ yourself?”

During the spin-cycle, my board took a particularly glancing blow across my foot.  When the bully waves finally let me go (I said “uncle”), I headed to the beach to inspect my foot.  I get to the sand, sit down and start checking my foot where I’d felt the bump.  Sure enough, there’s a giant, purple knot on top of my big toe.  But, here’s the weird part, while inspecting the hurting, throbbing part of my foot, my foot spontaneously starts bleeding from the other, non-pained side (by the pinky toe).

I’m not saying it was bad at all (as you can tell from the picture).   If I may quote the Black Knight, “it’s just a flesh wound.”  But the funny part is, despite the superficial nature of the would, it bleed like a wicked bastard. The whole side of my foot is bloody and I’m super pumped that I’m going to have a sweet post to put up for you to read.  But I knew I’d have to be extra careful to keep my foot as bloody as possible while riding my bike home so I can take a sweet pic.  I shunned washing it off at the showers and risked certain infection! But alas, by the time I arrived, the cut had clotted up and the blood washed away. I had precious little to you. (But as an added bonus, check out that gnarly hair coming off my ring toe!  What’s that about?)

Still, what do we take away from this.  One, my paddling was stronger than usual and I was able to make it out to the break without huffing and puffing, when others were beat back.  So the daily conditioning is a positive.  Two, always remember to cover your head with your hands and arms when you eat it – a bloody foot (with a superficial wound) is a million times better than a bloody (and possibly unconcious) head.

Stay golden, Pony Boy.