Spencer Pirdy gets shacked in Mexico
Spencer Pirdy recently made his way down to Mexico for some big barrels, and scored. Here's the story in his own words.
There's something about this place. Maybe it's the cockadoodle doo of the roosters at dark or the swaying of the palm trees as the dry offshore wind wisps past my sunburnt face as if to tell me, "It's time again." All I know is that if you're seeking a challenge an have the right amount of foam to play, you've come to the right place.
Monday evening Greg and I were sitting up on the vista when about an hour before dark it started to turn on. I saw a couple of really nice looking waves and sprinted out with the intention of catching one on my new 8'0, but after getting my ass spanked to the beach 3 consecutive times I surrendered. I came in to find Greg sipping on a margarita. "A for effort," he said. I smiled and tried to mask my deep gasps for breath that still were hitting me and my dizzying head. The funny thing is that normally at any other spot I would've felt ashamed and defeated, yet at that moment I felt the opposite and was content. Sure, I didn't even get out the back to have a fighting chance at catching one, but I learned that evening that sometimes some sessions are meant to be watched from afar and that we are only human.
The next morning saw the peak of a fairly hefty South swell. Greg and I watched it at dark and could see a few bombs but it was hard to tell how big it was. I opted for a bigger 9'3" Baltierra and Greg took out a trusty 8'6 Christenson. My first wave of the morning was a stark reminder of how crucial wave selection is at Puerto Escondido. I got too anxious, saw a large left that seemed within reach and forced the issue. I stroked with all my strength into what I thought could possibly be an epic wave. The stiff off shores acted as a blockade preventing me from entry, but I persisted. Then, at a moment where I felt the wave was starting to jack up I got to my feet. Unfortunately, once I was fully up I realized that I was teetering atop an ugly beast that wasn't the diamond in the rough I'd thought it was. I pushed my front foot forward in an attempt to launch myself down the face. As I dropped in the wind lifted the nose of my 9'3" into flight. I airdropped and pondered for a quick moment my chances of making the drop. I remained locked with my feet to the board and kept the little faith I had in my training and preparation. Then, disaster struck as soon as I impacted into the flats. I was hurdled forward and flung out in front of the falling lip. The impact of the wave knocked me around and threw me into countless summersaults. Finally, my floatation kicked in and shot me to the surface with time before the next wave landed on my head. A third wave washed me into the beach where I was able to gather myself. "Well!", I thought. "Lets not do that again!"
I made my way back up the beach to the shore-break, pushed the restart button and paddled out again. After a couple throw away waves that boosted my confidence again I found myself in the right place at the right time. I nabbed one of the best waves I've had out there. A clean entry that let me draw a long faded bottom turn with what probably looked like a little pocket ride, but felt like a cavernous view to me.The rights coming in were pretty crazy and guys from an international field were going nuts. Jose Ramirez, Marcial Monreal an Matias Segura just to name a few.It was hard to find the perfect gem, but still a magical session with large 20 foot faces detonating the shores of Zicatela.
The next days saw the swell drop slightly but still hold well into the 15- foot face range. I had the pleasure of bearing witness to Greg Long on an abundance of remarkable waves. He is so in tune out there it's unbelievable and when he gets in rhythm it's quite a show to see.
For ten days I stayed in Puerto. I copped waves on the head, paddled until my arms screamed for mercy and was lucky enough to get a few views in the process that'll last me a lifetime. Life is simple in Puerto and the people, food and culture is as vibrant as any place I've ever been. As I sit here writing this I patiently await my next visit there and welcome with it the sounds of the roosters at 4am and the warm, stiff off shores that gently awoke me every day. I thank Greg, everyone in Puerto and Billabong for a trip that I'll never forget!
Spencer setting the line on a bomb. Photo: Caca Naves
No fear as Spencer grabs the rail and steadies for the drop. Photo: Caca Naves
Would you want to trade places with Spencer here?