"Can’t wait to hear the stories you have to tell!!!"

SetWave

SetWave

Well-known Member
Location
Monterey Bay
Not really sure where to post this but sports seems somewhat appropriate although many purists think of it more as a lifestyle rather than an activity. But, that's a different discussion for another time.

Upon blabbing that I grew up in, on, around and under the waves someone said, "Can’t wait to hear the stories you have to tell!!!" So, with fair warning I'll gladly bore you to tears here.

I'll start with a short one and see how it goes.

(Every word is true. Only the names have possibly changed to protect the guilty . . . )

CLOSE ENCOUNTER AVOIDED

One fine autumn day I noticed one of my favorite yet fickle spots was going to be excellent around dawn the next day. The tide and swell were perfect and I had the chance to be on it all alone before the sun rose and the crowd descended.

So, it was time to wake up, throw on my wetsuit, grab my board and be out the door BUT I just couldn't get myself out of bed. Yes, I am a lazy so-and-so and the choice between those comfy warm blankets or icy cold waves was just too difficult. So, I overslept.

Later that day I heard on the radio that a huge great white was spotted cruising the area at dawn . . . just as I would have been getting my fill of waves for the morning. He would have definitely gotten his big teeth filled with my scrawny limbs no doubt.

The moral of this sad tale? Laziness will save your life, boys and girls. (y)
 

Here's one. Never take out a loan to build a race car. :(
Many years ago, I had a small block powered dirt coupe. I got wind that a nearby 1/2 mile track was letting small blocks run against the big blocks and the first small block across the finish line would get a guaranteed starting spot at the mile long dirt track race held in Syracuse NY (considered the indy of dirt racing). Well, I had a pretty good car already, so I took out a $30,000 loan to freshen everything. (motor, trans, shocks, tires, etc.). Took my newly re-built car to the race and started 16th in a 24 car main event. It was great, within 6 laps I was up to ninth and ahead of any other small blocks. It was to be a short lived feeling. Going into turn 3, the right rear torsion bar stripped and collapsed the right side. I pounded the outside wall, (made my 15" wide rims instant 7"), then shot back down across the track where I was hit by at least 4-5 more cars. :( My once fine race car was now a total loss. I was able to salvage the seat, fuel cell, and a few of the engine parts. The last car to hit my climbed up and over the hood, shearing off the carb and tearing the motor mounts right out of the block (thereby destroying a good bock). It also ripped the transmission from the motor plate and destroyed it in the process.
I took my former race car home and left it out back of the garage as a constant reminder that for 5 years I would be paying back that loan. :cry: I have had many a racer since, but never, ever, went into hock for one again.
 
Driving up the Yukon solo, I lost my way. (no map) The only way I could get back to the Alcan highway was to climb this huge, sharp craggy mountain, thousands of feet high. It started out gravel but quickly became mud, snow, ice as it narrowed. No guard rails; couldn't see the edge. It took all day and all night. Snowing heavily. I'd pull over to the cliff as far as I could to let the lumber trucks by and even then we would both have to pull in our mirrors.
It was thousands of feet high when the last truck squeaked by (with his tires on the mountain side), My Toyota Forerunner was at a sharp angle. I felt the earth crumbling under the truck. My front right wheel was in the air. It wasn't a comfortable angle. It was WAY TOO MUCH of an angle!
Opened my driver door and stuck my hand out with my purse,( So they could identify the body if it came to that) I scooted over to the side edge of the seat and stretched my right arm and leg to manuver the gas and steering wheel. It was a balancing act! If it slanted even an inch more, I was going to jump! Don't know how I made it back on the road (must have been my angels) but I made it! It was night now and snowing hard! Icy. No visability. I had to roll down the window to reach out and feel the side of the mountain, as the sky and road were one. At the very top of the mountain, there was a big sign, "Welcome to Highway to Hell Mountain!"
 

Wow, Squatting Dog and Gaer, your individual tales of terror sure outshine mine. :oops:

Here's another all-time fav from a seriously dangerous day . . . or evening actually.

SOMETIMES YA JUST GOTTA HELP A GUY

My good friend Bill (RIP) who became a teacher when we came home was one of the fellow wave-riding fools I made friends with during the war. He was from SoCal (but still a really good guy :p) During the summer he would come visit me and spend a couple months.

Well, one fine day a HUGE south swell came barreling in and we decided to get our share of it in the late afternoon. Now, it was extremely big and the tide was already up against the cliff with the sun getting lower and lower in the sky. I paddled out for two reasons: 1) My buddy was there and it was the foolish macho thing to do and 2) Since it was a south swell the lull between sets was long enough to not require punching through any inside waves.

So, I got outside, picked a couple nice waves and finally decided where I was going to sit to wait for the big mama. Looking out at the horizon I noticed a guy waving and thought he was awfully far out, beyond the kelp. Now, I'm known for sitting way outside but this guy was halfway to Japan. I thought maybe he knew me and was waving hello (I ain't the brightest bulb on shelf...) when it dawned on me he was in trouble.
So . . . I decided to see what was going on.

Took awhile to paddle out to him and immediately my water safety training took front and center. I stayed away and asked him what was going on and he started yelling that he had a cramp and couldn't get in (back to shore). I could tell he was seriously scared and tried talking him down suggesting ways to stretch out his cramp and describing where and how to get out of the water and back up the cliff. No such luck. He wasn't listening.

I finally had to sternly exclaim that I grew up here and know what to do and that he should just listen and everything will be okay. A walk in the park . . .

I tried to get him to follow me around the waves into deeper water so we could make our way to the spot just right for escaping. He wouldn't budge. Finally I yelled at him to get his ass in gear. The sun had already hit the horizon and it would be dark in minutes and I was NOT going to hang around out there all night. He started slowly moving but every time a nice fat unbroken wave would roll through he panicked and paddled away.

Finally, I held onto him and his board and mine and paddled us to shore one-handed; no easy feat. Yes, it was dark by then.

Now, we had to deal with the shore pound which takes good timing. I saw our chance and yelled at him above the roar of the waves, "Come on! Paddle you FU**ER!!!" I made it to the rocks and watched him getting rolled around and washed further along the cliff. We both made it but I was done with him.

Bill and some kid were both clinging to the rocks and we made our way up the cliff. The cops and stupid rescue goons were standing there just watching. (our heroes) Well, my neighbor did reach his hand down to help me the last couple of feet up the cliff.

We walked home talking about the session, the good waves and that foolish kook who never should have paddled out in the first place.

(I was talking with Jack O'Neill (famous for inventing the wetsuit and being a great all-around waterman) a few days later and he said it was the biggest south swell he had ever seen.)

The moral of this adventure, kids? Know your limits and don't be a kook! (y)
 
SetWave said:
Not really sure where to post this but sports seems somewhat appropriate although many purists think of it more as a lifestyle rather than an activity. But, that's a different discussion for another time.

Upon blabbing that I grew up in, on, around and under the waves someone said, "Can’t wait to hear the stories you have to tell!!!" So, with fair warning I'll gladly bore you to tears here.

I'll start with a short one and see how it goes.

(Every word is true. Only the names have possibly changed to protect the guilty . . . )

CLOSE ENCOUNTER AVOIDED

One fine autumn day I noticed one of my favorite yet fickle spots was going to be excellent around dawn the next day. The tide and swell were perfect and I had the chance to be on it all alone before the sun rose and the crowd descended.

So, it was time to wake up, throw on my wetsuit, grab my board and be out the door BUT I just couldn't get myself out of bed. Yes, I am a lazy so-and-so and the choice between those comfy warm blankets or icy cold waves was just too difficult. So, I overslept.

Later that day I heard on the radio that a huge great white was spotted cruising the area at dawn . . . just as I would have been getting my fill of waves for the morning. He would have definitely gotten his big teeth filled with my scrawny limbs no doubt.

The moral of this sad tale? Laziness will save your life, boys and girls. (y)
Click to expand...
Sometimes those near misses are a blessing.
 
Gaer said:
Driving up the Yukon solo, I lost my way. (no map) The only way I could get back to the Alcan highway was to climb this huge, sharp craggy mountain, thousands of feet high. It started out gravel but quickly became mud, snow, ice as it narrowed. No guard rails; couldn't see the edge. It took all day and all night. Snowing heavily. I'd pull over to the cliff as far as I could to let the lumber trucks by and even then we would both have to pull in our mirrors.
It was thousands of feet high when the last truck squeaked by (with his tires on the mountain side), My Toyota Forerunner was at a sharp angle. I felt the earth crumbling under the truck. My front right wheel was in the air. It wasn't a comfortable angle. It was WAY TOO MUCH of an angle!
Opened my driver door and stuck my hand out with my purse,( So they could identify the body if it came to that) I scooted over to the side edge of the seat and stretched my right arm and leg to manuver the gas and steering wheel. It was a balancing act! If it slanted even an inch more, I was going to jump! Don't know how I made it back on the road (must have been my angels) but I made it! It was night now and snowing hard! Icy. No visability. I had to roll down the window to reach out and feel the side of the mountain, as the sky and road were one. At the very top of the mountain, there was a big sign, "Welcome to Highway to Hell Mountain!"
Click to expand...
Yikes!
Reminds me of the time decades ago that I caught a ride hitchhiking back from down south in an old VW bus with a guy and his wife. Nice couple.
Anyway, I was sleeping in back when he pulled over and woke me up saying I dad to drive. He had taken a road through the mountains from Hwy 101 over to Hwy 1. We were sitting atop a steep GRAVEL grade and he said he couldn't handle it. Now, I always loved driving so I reluctantly took the wheel just making sure to keep things nice and SLOW; a snail's pace indeed.
Nothin' at all like your wild ride but scary enough.
 
I very much enjoyed your first story, here,
and your choices of wordings, in the OP (original post) @SetWave
:):LOL:

I'll read other posts in this thread, at other times.
 
Gaer said:
Driving up the Yukon solo, I lost my way. (no map) The only way I could get back to the Alcan highway was to climb this huge, sharp craggy mountain, thousands of feet high. It started out gravel but quickly became mud, snow, ice as it narrowed. No guard rails; couldn't see the edge. It took all day and all night. Snowing heavily. I'd pull over to the cliff as far as I could to let the lumber trucks by and even then we would both have to pull in our mirrors.
It was thousands of feet high when the last truck squeaked by (with his tires on the mountain side), My Toyota Forerunner was at a sharp angle. I felt the earth crumbling under the truck. My front right wheel was in the air. It wasn't a comfortable angle. It was WAY TOO MUCH of an angle!
Opened my driver door and stuck my hand out with my purse,( So they could identify the body if it came to that) I scooted over to the side edge of the seat and stretched my right arm and leg to manuver the gas and steering wheel. It was a balancing act! If it slanted even an inch more, I was going to jump! Don't know how I made it back on the road (must have been my angels) but I made it! It was night now and snowing hard! Icy. No visability. I had to roll down the window to reach out and feel the side of the mountain, as the sky and road were one. At the very top of the mountain, there was a big sign, "Welcome to Highway to Hell Mountain!"
Click to expand...
Good lord, Gaer 😳 That almost made me nauseous just reading about it!!!!! Think I would have ditched my car over the side of the mountain and hitched a ride with one of the lumber trucks 😂
 
squatting dog said:
Here's one. Never take out a loan to build a race car. :(
Many years ago, I had a small block powered dirt coupe. I got wind that a nearby 1/2 mile track was letting small blocks run against the big blocks and the first small block across the finish line would get a guaranteed starting spot at the mile long dirt track race held in Syracuse NY (considered the indy of dirt racing). Well, I had a pretty good car already, so I took out a $30,000 loan to freshen everything. (motor, trans, shocks, tires, etc.). Took my newly re-built car to the race and started 16th in a 24 car main event. It was great, within 6 laps I was up to ninth and ahead of any other small blocks. It was to be a short lived feeling. Going into turn 3, the right rear torsion bar stripped and collapsed the right side. I pounded the outside wall, (made my 15" wide rims instant 7"), then shot back down across the track where I was hit by at least 4-5 more cars. :( My once fine race car was now a total loss. I was able to salvage the seat, fuel cell, and a few of the engine parts. The last car to hit my climbed up and over the hood, shearing off the carb and tearing the motor mounts right out of the block (thereby destroying a good bock). It also ripped the transmission from the motor plate and destroyed it in the process.
I took my former race car home and left it out back of the garage as a constant reminder that for 5 years I would be paying back that loan. :cry: I have had many a racer since, but never, ever, went into hock for one again.
Click to expand...
😳 I knew your stories wouldn’t disappoint 😂
 
Kathleen’s Place said:
Good lord, Gaer 😳 That almost made me nauseous just reading about it!!!!! Think I would have ditched my car over the side of the mountain and hitched a ride with one of the lumber trucks 😂
Click to expand...
Oh, The lumber trucks stopped running shortly after dark. Alone in the blizzard! I was seconds away from jumping and letting my truck go over the side. It took all night toget down the mountain!
 
@SetWave
Here's a couple of photos I took with a cheap camera when cruising around about a quarter-half mile off Tahiti a few years ago. The surfers would paddle their boards all the way out from shore to this break where I guess there was an off shore reef. Apparently the waves were very mild the day I was there. Looked like they were having fun though.
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My last kidney stone event was in 2004. Wife took me to the emergency room on Friday. The lithotripsy machine wasn't due back in town until the following Wednesday. Urologist put a stent in between kidney and bladder to mitigate the annoying pain. Gave me some "really good" pain pills and sent me home.
Well, my group had their usual 7 a.m. tee time on Saturday morning. I showed up peeing some blood and "feeling no pain" from the medication sent home with me. The guys couldn't believe I was actually playing golf... but played quite well. The following Wednesday the stone was blown up by the lithotripsy machine and all was well.

In 2016 I needed carpal tunnel surgery. Surgeon did the left hand first. A stern warning from him said NO GOLF for 30 days. Well, I waited 7 days. Almost pulled the incision open, but it held. Went back to the doc's office. Told them I was "doing some outdoor activity". They replace one of the stitches and sent me home. A month later, they did the right hand. Instead of playing golf in 7 days.... I waited for 8 days! That one I really messed up! Didn't bleed, but could look inside the incision. They had to stich it back up.

I don't listen well.......
 
Let's see . . . what story shall I bore you with this time around???

Once . . .

I was sitting at my favorite spot looking out to the horizon and waiting for a good wave with just one other guy. Suddenly (and I do mean suddenly) there was a rush of water right next to me as a huge gray shape and DORSAL FIN surfaced hitting my left side and pushing me out of the way. For a heart beat I thought the worst. But, luckily, I recognized it as a dolphin. Whew. The guy with me started laughing and we got to talking. Seems one of his friends was pulled underwater by a dolphin down in Mexico. It ain't Flipper out there boys and girls. They are wild animals and will bite ya. :oops:
 
MrPants said:
@SetWave
Here's a couple of photos I took with a cheap camera when cruising around about a quarter-half mile off Tahiti a few years ago. The surfers would paddle their boards all the way out from shore to this break where I guess there was an off shore reef. Apparently the waves were very mild the day I was there. Looked like they were having fun though.
! View attachment 154299View attachment 154300View attachment 154301
Click to expand...
images.jpeg
Very dangerous and scary Teahupo'o (roughly meaning place of broken skulls) Tahiti.
I'm happy with the big enough winter waves around Monterey Bay thank you very much.:oops:
 
SetWave said:
Let's see . . . what story shall I bore you with this time around???

Once . . .

I was sitting at my favorite spot looking out to the horizon and waiting for a good wave with just one other guy. Suddenly (and I do mean suddenly) there was a rush of water right next to me as a huge gray shape and DORSAL FIN surfaced hitting my left side and pushing me out of the way. For a heart beat I thought the worst. But, luckily, I recognized it as a dolphin. Whew. The guy with me started laughing and we got to talking. Seems one of his friends was pulled underwater by a dolphin down in Mexico. It ain't Flipper out there boys and girls. They are wild animals and will bite ya. :oops:
Click to expand...

:ROFLMAO: :ROFLMAO:

R7f582e1588e731d7fe1db1755855ecfa.jpg
 


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