rowing as ageless sport

If you ever saw the episode of "Seinfeld" that featured an aged Lloyd Bridges playing Jerry's personal trainer, that might summarize my morning on the river. "Grab your jock --- if you need one. It's go time!"

Lemme explain: Every couple of weeks i row in a quad with two guys in their mid to late 60s and a third guy that until today i thought was a good deal older than me.

Paul is 65 and puts the boat together. He'll call 3 to 4 days in advance -- inevitably while you're in the bathroom or in a special moment with your wife -- leaving messages on cell, home and work numbers in succession. Once you express an interest, he calls back again to confirm that he has two others for the boat. He may call again to confirm the time -- there are only two times, actually, either 5:40 a.m. or 6 a.m.

Ken is a good-humored man of 67 who has coached rowing and calls out the commands in the boat. Rather than barking out commands, it's more like Lloyd Bridges's Izzy Mandlebaum, without calling us Daffodil. He'll call out a Power 20 -- basically, 20 hard strokes -- and the boat barely changes speed.

Tony is a chubby, flustered-looking guy who works -- or, before the recession - worked as an architect for a chain of fitness centers, ironically.

I'm 49 and no gift to rowing, i can assure you; my technique seems to attract plenty of free, unsolicited coaching on the river. So, we're quite a quartet.

This morning, I got to the boathouse early and Paul was there. The topic was the economy. Did I hear that Tony was going to lose his job? Or that Ken had to sell the family business, cutting 75 jobs? Paul himself was getting less consulting work. Even the part-time gig he had had dried up: seems he knows an undertaker who would hire him occasionally to act as a pallbearer for funerals. Who knew you could get paid for that? "It's mostly people who have no family or are so old their family and friends can't carry the casket. But they haven't called in about six months," Paul said. "I think he's getting family members to do it instead."

So, with that cloud hanging over us and Tony and Ken now present, we got in the boat.

Now, Paul's a heavyset guy and has had some heart work in the past year; Ken is spry but likes to party. Tony is practically moribund. And today the humidity was stifling. Paul said: "Take it easy on us, Ken." To which Ken replied: "Easy up and easy down."

Needless to say, we didn't spring off the dock.

I sit in the bow, or the front of the boat, so my job is to look where we're going and call out adjustments when need — directing them to pull harder with the "port" oar or "starboard" oar.

But going under one of the first bridges, i tried to give some more room to another boat and nearly ran us into the massive stone bridge abutment. I barked out a command of "way enough," which is rower-speak for "STOP!!!!!!"

They were kind enough not to say anything and we started up again, this time headed away from the abutment.

As I mentioned, the humidity was brutal, so i worried that any stroke could be someone's last.

At the turnaround point, we stopped for water. Ken made a comment about being an old man, rowing at 67. Paul stated his age, and I said, "Hey, i'm turning 50 this year." To my surprise, Tony said he was also turning 50, and it turned out we were a month apart in age -- one of those instances where you say, "I cannot be that old."

Heading downriver, my primary job was to keep us from running into a tree that had washed downriver in a big rain and was now lodged in the middle of the river. We successfully passed it, but were passed in the process by a women's 8. At that, Ken yelled out, "Let's go after them!" and called for a Power 20. I've been in boats where that command sends the boat lurching, as four able bodies yank on the oars and get the boat moving. But, like Izzy Mandlebaum, the boat barely changed pace. We never caught the women's 8.

Coming into the boathouse, I miscalculated again, and we nearly passed the dock, slowly, barely moving, but nonetheless too far away to grab hold of the wooden dock. Luckily, a coach was on the dock and he grabbed one of our oars and successfully brought us in.

San Clemente -- the real Surf City?

I spent nearly two weeks in and around San Clemente. Prior to going there, i didn't know much about it. It was the Western White House when Nixon was president. I knew it was home to Trestles, world-class surf break. And it's headquarters for three major surfing pubs: Surfer, Surfing and Surfer's Journal.

Then I got there and the picture became a little clearer.

Surfing dominates the landscape. Every other car has surfboards on the roof racks. Liquor stores, auto mechanics, taco stands, coffee shops and even sushi restaurants use the icon of a surfer in their logo; restaurant menus are frequently mounted on surfboards. There's Surfin' Donuts, San O Liquors, San O Mechanics. Places like the Bagel Shack have walls covered with vintage surfing pics, while the Antoine's Coffee Shop has a vintage wooden board as its exterior sign. In addition to the surfing magazines, Surfrider Foundation and the Surfing Heritage Foundation are both based in San Clemente. You might be standing in line at Starbucks and see a pro past or present.

Trestles attracts hundreds of surfers a day - and it can hold that many because the break is actually four breaks spread over more than a mile. There's Cottons, Uppers, Middles and, most southerly, Lowers. On any given day, whether it's 2-4 feet or 6-8 feet, the parking lot next to Carl's Jr.'s is hopping with surf vehicles of all kinds. Surfers make the mile-long trek down to the break by foot, on skateboards or on bikes with special surfb0ard racks. Then you have San Onofre State Beach, or San O, just down the road.

Huntington Beach and Santa Cruz fought in court over which one could claim the title Surf City. Huntington Beach won out, but to me HB is a town dominated by malls, a huge power plant and some back-yard oil-drilling "grasshoppers." Santa Cruz is a great place - and no disrespect to the shaper of the Pumpkin Seed, Michel Junod, or the guys who surf Maverick's -- but I think San Clemente should have had a legitimate shot at the title Surf City.

I guess I still didn't understand the magnitude of how embedding surfing was in San Clemente till I took a walk along the back-streets as well as the main drag, Camino Real, intending to photograph every surf shop.

I started at the Rainbow Sandals outlet, then moved down Calle de los Molinas. I stopped in The Factory, where I met legendary shaper Terry Martin (a meeting documented elsewhere on this blog). I passed the studios of surfboard artist Drew Brophy, who is next door to shaper Terry Senate. Not far away is Ghetto Glassing, which glasses surfboards and has a great sticker on the front glass saying, "Fuck your China made surfboard." Just up the street is the Weber Surfboards shop, now run by Dewey's son Shea Weber. Next door to that is a bar called Mulligan's, where you can bet some of the area's best shapers have thrown down a few brews. The area on Molinas, a back-street semi-industrial area, is also home to numerous auto-body shops, though to be fair they're really restoring vintage cars like VW bugs, old VW buses, dune buggies and the like. Molinas is also home to O-Fishl Surf Products, Cole Surfboards and a couple of other unnamed surf shops.

Out on the main drag, El Camino Real, there's Timmy Patterson's surf shop, OC Surf & Sport, Icons of Surf (which my friend Bill Rosenblatt calls "a candy store for surfers"), BC Surf (started by Brian Clark, I think, and now under new ownership), a Hobie shop, Killer Dana (a satellite store), DBC Ride Shop, Stewart Surfboards, Artist/Shaper Paul Carter's San Clemente Surfboards, Rip Curl and Trestles Surf Outlet. More than a dozen surf shops.

On a given night, you can see a premier of a new surfing movie.

Possibly most important, southern Orange County is blessed with consistent surf and amazing weather. On a recent day at San Clemente Pier, the surf report on the white board said "Water 75, Air 76." You can't get any better than that.

The Factory, San Clemente

The Factory in San Clemente: It's a surf shop, it's got shaping bays, it's a warehouse-style structure with many uses under one roof.

Check out this cool video (link below). Features Drew Brophy, the artist who paints surfboards, skateboards, motorcycles, helmets, sneakers, etc. He does an illustration of how to paint a surfboard, but also features The Factory in the introduction.

www.surfline.com/video/webisodes/the-paint-shop-with-drew-brophy_21964

Left: A fin display at The Factory

PVA with legendary surfboard shaper Terry Martin, who according to his Rainbow Sandals ad in Surfer's Journal (Vol. 18, No. 4), has shaped 75,000 surfboards, starting in 1952 (when he was 14).

At left, in the photo of The Factory in San Clemente, there's Terry Martin headed in with a longboard blank under his arm. He disappeared into an "employees only" area, then came out a few minutes later in the shop. Where I caught up with him and thereupon received about 25 minutes of surfing/shaping history. He is amazing.

Thalia Street sunset

Last full day in California, stopped at Thalia Street for a last look at this beautiful beach in Laguna Beach. People surf here, but it seems like it's mostly a skimboarders' beach, and man these guys are amazing to watch.

Newport Beach -- Blackie's Beach

Last morning in California. At the Day's Inn last night, so finally got a shower after many days of camping and surfing 2x a day. Sand everywhere, especially in the car, which i've lived out of for two weeks. Drove to Blackie's, surf spot in Newport Beach made famous by Alex Knost in "One California Day." Famous to me anyway. Today it was 1-2 feet, clean but gutless.

Among the regulars were a guy who had a surf wagon converted from a Mercedes utility vehicle, complete with weather vane on the roof. Weather vane was a miniature surfboard. He wore a "MOGFEST" T-shirt made up when some friends threw a party on this massive truck, which he'd bought from a NATO sale. Another guy, a personal trainer named Randall, was seemingly obsessed with Robert August boards. The star of the "Endless Summer" was originally from Huntington Beach, just up the beach. Had three on the beach. An 8-0 egg came from Jericho Poppler's daughter and had "JERICHO" written on the deck. A longboard, around 9-0, he bought used for $450. A third board, another egg shape, was shaped by Robert himself. Randall said he'd worked with Sam August (Robert's son).

Cars in the parking lot included a freshly painted blue VW van, with a beautiful, brand new 9-0 DANO Surfboard next to it. An old Ford wagon had a longboard out the back window and two fluffy dogs inside.

Blackie's gets its name from the bar of the same name: A dive with all kinds of surfing pics, vintage boards and beer collectibles on the walls.

Down the street, a fish market --the Dory Fishing Fleet -- was selling stone crabs and fresh fish to mostly Asian customers.