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Return to Lahinch

By TomR - Published on 12th September 2011 | Viewed 724 times.

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Ice melted and temperatures levelling out, the winter season now offered lashings of relentless rain. A trip back to blighty was put on hold; instead, after a good dose of simply taking it easy around the house, we decided to head to Lahinch again. The first time we were there was the day after the wave ‘Prowlers’ made headline news after Al Mennie and his crew had braved this emerald monster during the November mega swell of 2010.

The rain had let up finally and a beautiful day revealed itself for the journey over to Lahinch, I armed myself with a 6’6” retro egg as it fits snugly inside the car. (The soft rack system turns the car seats into reservoirs when it rains and I was taking no chances!)

Our hopes of catching the last of the day’s sun over the Cliffs of Moher were dashed as we were not dashing on this trip; we rolled into Lahinch bang on 6.30pm and signed into the hostel, our crib for the evening. We feasted on wide screen TV and supped a few bottles of beer before skating the dog for a walk along the promenade to the love heart seat at the south end of the pier; my girlfriend and I were sky-watching as a shooting star leapt across the night sky, “how lovely” simultaneously we versed. It was only a few weeks since we both witnessed a green comet (at least we hope it was!) that’s recently been orbiting our planet, streak across the skies; this was a cosmic trip alright! Back in the hostel I cooked us a filling pasta dish in preparation for the following day.

The next day I texted Bryan, a surf cat we met on our last (and first) trip to Lahinch. Chatting waves and catching up over coffee and a slab of rich chocolate brownie, we watched the rolling sets come thundering into the shore and decided it was time for battle.

We drove around the bay and up to the top car park, a brilliant vantage point for marking the best place to surf this fine and sunny day. There were some sizeable waves offering cracking lefts just in front of the cliffs, which was our point of immersion. Precariously we made it down the steep and winding footpath before reaching the cliff floor and negotiating the waves and wet, slippy rocks as we headed around the base of the cliff before embarking the paddle to the line up.

I felt the glory of the sun’s rays beating upon me, shining brilliance reflecting off the waves as I paddled, once I reached the line-up I sat up on my board to soak in the moment – beautiful…

Looking around there were a few other surfers out – about ten in total and I distinctly remember a feeling that each one of us was looking out for the other and sensed camaraderie, Bryan and Dash also helped put me at ease, informing me what to watch out for, where the exit points are should I get swept in and generally egging me on! The surf was over reef and my biggest fear was smashing into the rocks at the base of the cliffs, or indeed being eaten up whole by the waves themselves.

Today I was at the edge of my comfort zone and ability. The egg is a fast little board, not much rocker and a single longboard style fin keeping it steady. I’d positioned the fin to the very rear of the board to help control balance on takeoff. I sat for a while and watched as other surfers played on their chosen waves, some making it, others not as they (like me) were engulfed in the white fury of the water. I was aiming to take off on the shoulder of the waves as these were some of the biggest waves I’d surfed, watching in awe as sneakers reared up like a cobra about to strike its prey, unfortunately, I was the prey! I wrestled my first wave as it lunged shoreward and scrambled to my feet, my awareness heightened by fear and my responsibility to be safe to the other surfers in the water. I remember thinking how fast the wave was and how long it took me to get to my feet, trying to balance my awareness of where I would end up if I fell off, where I would end up if I stayed on and how safe the rocks at the base of the cliff were and for how long, as well as where all the other surfers in the water were.

I knew I was playing it safe, not fully committing to the wave unless it felt totally ok to do so. It wasn’t busy by any means but there were enough surfers in the water for me to want to play it safe. This was definitely one of those sessions that existed for the teaching. No room to try and push my limits to breaking point, conditions were perfect really for today’s lesson as long as I didn’t push things too far…I didn’t want detention!

I was trying to pick the waves off at the shoulder, still there were a few that caught me in the heaviest section, paddling into position a wave would rear up and I remember thinking, “go for it, you have time, turn around, paddle and get that wave”, either that or thinking “shiiiiiiiiiiiittttt, duck!!!” all the while processing where everyone else was for their safety and mine.

One hefter in particular threatened itself towards me, well over head high – it reached me as my arms whisked me forward and lifted me up and surged with raw Atlantic energy. A speed wobble and split second later, I was on my feet, keeping low after a big air drop and then rocketing forward, I went into the turn and came up high on the wave, trying to steer back into the face. Too late, like a kite whooshing then yielding to a lack of wind, my board had found the edge of the wave and dissipated with me as we rejoined the horizon and almost mechanically sought the line up once more, veins pumping with adrenalin.

Another wave saw me start for a take off and then almost immediately pull back, I saw the fins of a short board whizz past, carving one off the lip, the fins clearly visible through the water, wow! Crazy fun, the talented surfer was the dude from the AIB advert and rinsed every ride he had, awesome to watch so close up. The vibe in the water was really, really great, I sort of kept myself to myself, more nerves than anything, but this was fine. The sun beat down upon us all; the sets gleamed their way towards us like bling chains around the neck of Neptune himself. Lahinch really proving its worldwide surf status, chatting with the hostel owner we had learned the night previous that the town’s population swelled from a mere 300 during the winter months to 2000+ in the summer. Maybe I’ll get some DJ work and play this town some funky vinyl…

Some more sitting out at the back of the line up was in order, a chance to regain composure and breathe before dancing once more. Another big wave came leaping in, I thought I was in a perfect position to tango until it opened up and all I could do was cling onto the board, there were two surfers in the water about 100m ahead, right in my trajectory. They saw me hurtling straight at them at breakneck speed but also realised that I wasn’t attempting to stand on this one, I body boarded in and they could see I was in control this way, zooming this way and that, smiling replacing the initial terrifying look that I must have sported.

I rolled out of the wave before gaining too much distance on the rocks and paddling back out I realised that my knees were actually sore from skimming the surface of the water on that last ride. Amazed and thankful I paddled to the right of the group to ensure even more that I was riding my own line, again watching with respect and admiration as the other surfers made these waves their playthings and danced in unison to the oceans music.

A few more ‘one more wave’s’ and I was ready to get back and warm up, I’d been out for over three hours now and was feeling tired alright. Aligning with the pebble beach at the base of the cliff, I started paddling in, using the waves to assist me. The footpath from the base to the top of the cliff looked ‘do-able’ and I continued to shore. The last part of the exit was a bit tricky with huge boulders scattered around. The waves pushing me this way and that, a bit of well-timed rock hopping and I was ashore, I felt a weird sense of release and the brief moment of safety I felt was soon replaced with fresh terror as I realised the only way out was to climb over 60ft up a near vertical grass covered rocky cliff.

Two surfers appeared, boards in hand and I can only to this day assume that they had made an appearance via the route I now faced; their dexterity and balance must have put even the hardiest of mountain goats to shame. With the only other option being to paddle the mile or so around to the beach, I pressed on, I’ve climbed much higher and more difficult routes than this before, I thought. However there were ropes and made for purpose boots for that, a few moves up and I was already jittery, pushing my board up ahead and then wedging it into the cliff face I moved upwards once more. I stole a look to the base and remember thinking that falling would mean agony, not just pain. Pressing on again, I reached the crux of the route and paused for a few minutes as I worked it out.

Reaching the top with elation met with further vertigo inducing emotions as the footpath, not more than 12inches wide, was the only visible route that didn’t intersect a farmer’s field. Not wishing to disturb the farmer I hand-railed the tiny trail until it became un-navigable. A shear drop to my left of at least 100ft ensured the farmers field won me over. I shouted over to the farmer and he gestured me to pass with a grin that bore rugged tales of this fine land. I hop-scotched back to the car and tended a vicious stitch as my girlfriend commented on the photos she had taken.

Shivering with both recent terror and cold, I peeled away the wetsuit and in the time it took me to get changed (which wasn’t long I can tell you!) the dog had snaffled our bagels (momentarily moved to make room for my wetsuit), and the much needed fuel for the way home. We stared in disbelief at the pooch as he stole that evening’s dinner from himself. Finally I sat in the car and rejoiced at being alive, really being alive.

The magic of Lahinch had once again cast its spell upon us, Bryan appeared and remarked on the death-defying ascent he and Dash had just made, we laughed in unison at the situation and stoked from the surf we shook hands and departed with an open invite for Bryan and Dash to visit Mayo.
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