​​I'm 68 and have been surfing for over 55 years.  After a short stint of competition in college, I decided I much preferred empty dawn patrol sessions in more remote spots.  As work became a necessity, I found I could usually get two hours of surfing in before heading to the office.  Surfing continued to be a basic, essential part of my life and I attribute much of my moderate success in business to the stress-relief surfing provided.  It kept me sane during insane times.

As the years went by, early injuries started to reemerge and by time I hit 50, I surfed well on days when my back was okay, and not as well with any significant back pain.  At one point,  I saw a physical therapist for an Achilles tendon injury.  He made me stand and walk, then approached from behind and hit me in the butt.  "Relax your glutes! he ordered.  The fact was that I couldn't.  No matter how much I tried, they remained rock hard, which I thought was a good thing.

"You surfers are all extenders," he stated flatly.  "We need to fix that."

Over the next couple of months, I worked on not arching my back, standing straighter, pushing my pelvis forward,  and on core strength to compensate for over-developed lower back muscles.  

Amazingly, in addition to improving my Achilles injury, my back problems disappeared.  Suddenly, I was surfing like I was twenty again.  I added the core strengthening exercises, especially plank and side plank, to my morning stretches/warm-ups, and over the next 15 years, I had zero back problems and was easily able to keep up with the young surfers in the lineup.

The Setback Injury

Then, a few years ago, on a small (shoulder-high) day - injuries always seem to happen on small days - I pulled into a backside barrel which started to close down on me.  I tried my  standard small-day-pull-through-the-back-of-the-wave but found myself slammed on a sharp rock which had fallen off the cliff the previous winter and had migrated.

The rock knocked my sacrum out of alignment which twisted my spine and compressed a disc causing a nerve impingement.  I went a month without being able to lie down or sit, and sleeping standing up didn't work.  For more on how I recovered from that injury, see How I Narrowly Avoided Back Surgery.

I was out of the water for four months, the longest I'd ever gone without surfing.  Once I could surf and had regained my paddling strength, I found I was almost always dragging my front foot on my pop-ups.  I could ride well enough, but that slowness getting up limited my critical takeoffs.

I worked hard on upper body strength doing sets of 50 pushups followed by 20 popups on the floor.  There was marginal improvement, but it wasn't like before.  I still surfed every day but...
​​

Time to Give up Surfing?

Last November, surfing up north on a super high tide with a slightly overhead swell, I got hit by backwash as I was standing up.  Perhaps if I'd had my old pop-up I would have been fine, but my dragging front foot slipped off the board and my back leg hooked onto the board as the backwash threw the board upward.  I severely tweaked my pelvis and this time I was out of the water for 3 and a half months.  

When I got back into paddling shape, with lots of push ups, my pop-ups were worse than ever.  I seriously considered giving up surfing.  For me, it was embarrassing to be in the lineup.  I was well-known and now, I'd lost my confidence.  I sucked.

Getting the Pop-up Back

I searched the internet for ways to improve your pop-up.  There are countless videos with all sorts of exercises.  I tried a bunch but had no luck.  Then I stumbled on this one by Kale Brock.

Attempting to do push ups bringing a knee inward was easy for my back leg and very difficult for my front leg.  I realized that I'd lost a lot of range of motion in my hip flexors and that this was preventing me from bringing my front leg forward properly.  I searched further and found an excellent video by Cris Mills of Surf Strength Coach.  If this video is any indication, I suspect his other training programs are worth the expense.

I did their exercises and then modified my stretching/warm-up routine to include the following:

1) Push up, bringing my foot to the opposite hand as I push up.  After only 5 of those, I go into pigeon pose (per Cris), for one minute, then pointer-dog for 1 minute and repeat on the opposite side.  I do two sets of these.
2) At the end of my stretches I do squats leaning forward to put my hands on the floor.  At first, I'd lost that flexibility, so as odd as it sounds, whenever I was on the toilet, I'd lean forward and put my hands on the floor for a minute.  After a few weeks, I could do the squats and gained a lot of flexibility in my hips.  Ultimately, I could do squat-hops, forward, back, sideways - 20 before each surf session.  

When I first started (1) above,  I couldn't bring my front foot more than half way to the opposite hand, but had no problem getting all the way to my hand with my back foot.  Two weeks later, I could touch my hand with my front foot. 

That day, I paddled out into empty waves and popped up with no problem on my first wave.  It was a small mushy day (for me, the worst conditions for popping up), but it seemed like magic.  

Since then, my confidence is coming back and I'm taking off on more critical waves.  It's great to be back!  Who would have thought that the pop-up problem had nothing to do with upper body strength?  It was all about flexibility, specifically hip flexor flexibility.  

I'm sure this won't work for everyone, but if you end up in a situation like mine, I hope you'll find this blog helpful.  

If you liked this blog, please check out my novels.

It was a beautiful swell from the southern hemisphere and Southern California was seeing double-overhead waves.  My friend Tom and I raced to a secret spot north of Los Angeles where we, along with a few others, caught some of the best waves of our young lives.  We were both 19.  At sunset, Tom went in and I waited for one more.  As expected, it was perfection.  A nice stand-up barrel after takeoff and then a long workable wall that would take me to the beach.

I knew that my wave would meet an outgoing wave from the steep beach and I expected a huge vertical exit.  What I didn't expect was the hyperextension and dramatic compression that would crush two discs (between L5 and S1 and L4 and L5), and would leave me nearly paralyzed on the beach.  Tom carried me to the car and it was six months before I could touch my knees and nearly a year before I was back to surfing.

Over the next forty years, I had intermittent back problems some of which would sideline me for weeks at a time.  I saw doctors and chiropractors and got temporary relief, but invariably would have flare ups a few times a year.  The quality of my surfing was dependent on the condition of my back.  When I had no pain, I surfed well.  Otherwise, I was slow to get up and conservative in my drives down the line and off the lip.  

When there was no surf, I went trail running if my back permitted.  At some point, I developed Achilles tendinitis and saw Jeff Moreno at Precision Physical Therapy.  He put me through some tests, watched me walk, and declared that like most surfers he worked with, I was an 'Extender'.  I had spent most of my life arching my back while paddling, had over-developed back muscles and under-developed core strength.  My posture was bad, I sat and stood incorrectly, and I was a mess.  

Trusting his judgement, I started developing core strength, corrected my posture, and was diligent in not 'extending'.  I later discovered that Kelly Slater had put out a video on core strength for surfing and added those exercises and paddling techniques to those prescribed by Jeff.  

Six months later, my back pain was gone.  Over the next seven years I had zero back pain.  No flare ups.  When my fellow surfers complained about back issues, I talked up core strength.  I was finally done with back pain and back to surfing at full capacity.

The Accident
Like most surfers, I've had my share of accidents: a fin into the thigh when a barrel collapsed on me at Wind'n'Sea in San Diego, stitches from run-ins with boards (not always mine) and encounters with rocks and reefs, and a torn MCL, which I rehabbed (see How I Rehabbed my MCL Tear).   So, I wasn't surprised when I hit the bottom at the Lane ten weeks ago.  Unfortunately, what is normally just a bounce off the bottom was much worse this year because of the portions of the cliff that fell in last winter.  Sharp rocks have accumulated in front of the point.  

I managed to finish the surf session after recovering for ten minutes, but the next day, I could hardly move.  I had hit my sacrum on a rock.  There was significant bruising and my back was twisted.  After a couple of osteopathic treatments (see another post on Why I Believe in Osteopathy) and a great massage with a 'Q-L Release' from Rochelle at Joy of Movement, I was on the mend.  Surfing wasn't a problem and I was dancing, hiking, and playing disc golf. 

I knew I was only at maybe 80% recovered but hey, why limit myself?  Of course I did something stupid and it was game-over.
​

I woke up the next day in extreme pain.  I couldn't walk more than a few feet, couldn't stand, couldn't sit, and couldn't lie down.  Most of the pain was down the front of my thigh, and my knee was hypersensitive.  Over the next week, the pain increased each day.  I tried to sleep standing up but that didn't work.  The doctors gave me anti-inflammatory shots, morphine, and hydrocodone, but nothing stopped the pain.  After another week with continued degradation, my osteopath recommended surgery.  The docs at PAMF scheduled an MRI (the most painful experience of my life - even after a big morphine injection) and the surgeon diagnosed a herniated disc with nerve impingement between L3 and L4.  

Never having had any kind of surgery, the prospect was terrifying, but I knew I couldn't live in that state.  

I met with the surgeon who described the 'minimally invasive' microdiscectomy.  It did require general anesthesia.  He would make a 3 cm incision, shave the bone and the disc and free the nerve.  Aside from recovering from the incision, I should be pain-free immediately after the surgery.  Complications were rare.   In the meantime, the surgeon prescribed Gabapentin to calm the nerve pain.  

Doing the research, it appeared that the only real risk arose if you needed another surgery.  The additional scar tissue could complicate subsequent surgeries.  The one thing that concerned me was that studies showed that after two years, patients who avoided surgery had the same outcome as those who had the surgery.  It looked like aside from the risks of that scarring, the surgery provided a faster way to get pain-free but that alternative treatments could be as effective.

I scheduled the surgery, did all the pre-clearance testing, and two days later - three days before the surgery - I was feeling a bit better.  I still couldn't walk or lie down, but I could sit.  I was able to get a partial night's sleep - my first in weeks - sitting up. ​  As the surgeon explained, this was the result of the Gabapentin.  And that was as good as it got.  At least I could sleep a bit.

The Miracle Machine
Hearing about my impending surgery, a friend who had gone through multiple back surgeries contacted me.  Several months ago, he was about to undergo yet another surgery (he'd been suffering back pain since a car accident when he was a teenager), when someone suggested he contact Dr. Bernstein at Santa Cruz Osteopathic.  After a few weeks of treatments on a spinal decompression machine, he said that he had now gone six months without pain and without medication for the first time in his life (actually, since his accident decades before). 

I did the research and discovered that MDs and DOs had a 90-100% success rate with the decompression machine while chiropractors had success rates between 50% and 60%.  This was attributed to the DOs and MDs being more experienced doctors who could accurately read an MRI and better target the focus of the  machine, as well as the fact that they could better identify patients who wouldn't benefit from the treatment.  They also can prescribe medication like the Gabapentin.  

I spoke with the surgeon and we agreed to postpone the surgery to see if this would work.  

I met with Dr. Richard Bernstein who reviewed my MRI and pointed out my original injury with degradation of my vertebrae from S1 through L4 and the nerve impingement between L3 and L4.  He said I was a good candidate for SpineMed treatment. It would give me the spacing necessary to relieve the nerve pain and would stimulate blood flow to the damaged disc and to the previously degraded vertebrae.  The treatment wasn't covered by insurance and would require 20-25 sessions.  He suggested two 30-minute sessions a day.  

Because I still couldn't lie down without major pain, the first sessions were difficult.  I had a hard time not moving.  I was constantly trying to relieve the pain.   I suspect I reduced the efficacy of the machine because I couldn't lie still.  By the 10th session, I could lie with legs elevated and minimal adjustments.  By the 19th session, I could lie there comfortably, and afterwards, could sit and stand, and walk short distances pain free.  

Dr. Bernstein suggested I continue for a few more sessions - one a day for the next week.  

Two days later, I was walking well.  I also started physical therapy at Precision. I took Precision's Spine Dynamics class, and  continued massage with Rochelle.  For the first time in over two months, I had zero pain.  I tentatively began increasing my walking distance and now, a week after my last treatment on the SpineMed machine, I'm up to 3 miles a day at a rapid pace.  Yesterday, I took my new board  (which I ordered just before my accident), and paddled for 20 minutes - again with no pain.  

My physical therapist is cautioning a slow return to full activity.  I have lots of exercises to do, but she thinks I'll be surfing in two weeks.  In the meantime, I can stand-up paddle, hike, and start dancing again.  I still have some residual hypersensitivity around my knee (about 10% of what it was), but Dr. Bernstein and the physical therapist believe that as the nerve heals, that will disappear.

If you're considering back surgery because of lumbar disc problems, see if you can find a doctor (MD or DO) who has a SpineMed machine.  In Santa Cruz, definitely have a talk with Dr. Bernstein.  

After doing this treatment and a lot more research, I honestly believe that this is a great alternative to surgery for most lumbar problems and that surgery should really be a last resort.

If you liked this blog, please check out my novels.

Hey.  I'm an extreme sports kind of guy.  As you can see from the photos above and in my Picture Gallery, I love surfing, skiing, kayaking whitewater, hang gliding, and more - individual sports that force me to hone my skills and my body so that I can experience the best Mother Nature has to offer.  So how is it that I took up disc golf?

It all started with Karen's son Victor.  He had learned disc golf through a friend in college and thought it would be fun to get his mom to play.  Karen joined him and they started playing fairly regularly.  

For those of you who don't know, disc golf is very similar to golf.  The rules are essentially identical, except that instead of using a club to hit a ball down a well-tended fairway hoping to put it in a hole a few to several hundred yards away, in disc golf, you throw Frisbee-like discs with the objective of putting one in a basket a few to several hundred feet away somewhere in a forest, in the mountains - out in nature.  

Each 'hole' has a par just like golf.  There's a tee pad from which you make your first throw.  Your next throws are played from where the previous one landed.  Just like ball golf.  There are hundreds of types of discs which fall into basic categories of driver - long range, mid-range, and putters/approach discs.  Some fly straight, some turn left, some right, some are good in wind, some are better downhill - you get the idea.   They're not standard Frisbees.
​

Anyway, Karen and Victor tried to convince me that I should play with them.  Although I claimed that disc golf didn't fit my concept of sport and that my sports required too much time to take up another hobby, truth be told, I knew I would be terrible at it.

You see, at the University, while my friends were on the beach throwing Frisbees and doing all sorts of tricks, or playing Ultimate Frisbee (like American football with Frisbees), I was in the water surfing.  I'd never learned how to throw a Frisbee with any consistency.  And why  should I start now?

But with Karen and Victor spending more and more time playing, I ultimately caved and joined them.  Guess what?  I sucked.  I was truly terrible.  Victor did his best to help me and I slowly gained a basic competence, but as I watched other players throw and score par or under par, I knew I was light-years away from being any good at disc golf.

For the next year, Karen consistently beat me.  At times, I would back off - certain throws hurt my shoulder and I didn't want to risk my surfing or other sports for disc golf.  ​

But then, for my birthday, Victor and other family members gave me a lesson package with Jack Trageser's School of Disc Golf.  

Jack played a round with me, then filmed me throwing, then started the lessons, showing me how to throw further and more accurately without hurting myself.  A few weeks later, I was not only beating Karen, I started beating Victor consistently.  I think that was a bit hard on him so for his next birthday, I gave him a lesson package and now, we play at pretty much the same level - just a bit over par on most difficult courses.  

But that's just the beginning of the story.  The magic thing about disc golf is that anyone can play.  It's free - just buy a driver and a putter ($5 used, $15 new) and you can play at thousands of courses around the world.  And even if you're not very good, it's a great excuse to get out for a hike in nature with a game to motivate you.  And, while ball golfers will tell you about the sound of the ball dropping into the cup, it doesn't compare to the ringing of the chains as your disc flies into the basket.

It's a sport that is easy to play and incredibly hard to master.  ​

It's also addictive.

A friend of mine had a major car accident when he was younger and was limited in his physical activity.  He put on weight and had a heart attack in his early 40s.  The doctors recommended exercise, but going to the gym and working out just wasn't something he could keep up with.  I invited him and his wife to join us for a round of disc golf.  It turned out that he was one of those people who threw discs on the beach in college.  He was a natural.  The walking was challenging, particularly on hilly courses, but he was motivated.  He started out only able to play a few holes, but quickly progressed to playing physically challenging courses.  He dropped weight and for the first time in years, got into decent physical shape.  

Those of you who have read my blog posts know that Karen and I spend a lot of time in France.  Of course, we had to play disc golf there but there were no permanent courses in our area.  We decided to bring a luggable basket with us and play our own, makeshift courses while in France so we didn't lose our skills.  We discovered there was a small disc golf club in the region and they welcomed us enthusiastically.  

We introduced Karen's friend Martine to the sport. Martine is a physical trainer who immediately became addicted and who recognized the theraputic value of the sport for her sedentary clients.  Within a year, the tiny club had more than tripled in membership and most of the new members were women.  I suspect that in the Basque Region of France, there are more women disc golfers than men.  

Disc golf in France has been challenging because there is so much regulation on sports and sport training.  Fortunately, Martine and others have made great headway and there are now permanent courses popping up in the Southwest of France.  
​

So yeah, I have to admit it.  I love disc golf.  Karen and I play wherever we go.  Our favorite courses are in the mountains and the redwoods.  It's a great hike and a lot of fun.  It's as easy or as challenging as you want to make it - a great sport for the whole family.  And, it's supplanting ball golf.  It's estimated that there are two million people playing disc golf.  While ball golf courses are closing because of ecological and economic reasons, multiple disc golf courses are opening every week.  

If you'd like to know more about the history and evolution (or revolution) of disc golf, I highly recommend Jack Trageser's The Disc Golf Revolution under his pen/nickname, Jack Tupp.  It's a fascinating account of how disc golf got to be what it is today.  It also has a great introduction to the sport and how to play.

If you haven't played disc golf, give it a try.  It's a great excuse to go hiking!

If, like me, you're not a boater, you probably think the Santa Cruz Harbor Patrol is only purposed with maintaining order in the harbor and helping boaters in distress in and near the harbor itself.  You may have seen Dan Coyro's picture at left of the Harbor Patrol boat towing a capsized boat after the 2011 tsunami that wreaked havoc on our small harbor.  Although I spend a huge amount of time in the ocean, I have to admit, I certainly never gave the Harbor Patrol much thought.  

But then, as I started working on my next novel, currently titled The Swimmer (you can check out the beginning in my Work in Progress section), I knew I needed to do some research on ocean rescues.  My scenario is very dramatic and I thought the chances of my swimmer being rescued were nil but I needed to describe an attempted rescue in the book.

I met briefly with one of the members of the Santa Cruz Fire Department's Marine Rescue Unit, thinking these were the people who would attempt such a rescue.  Over the years, I'd seen them doing physically demanding training exercises at night along West Cliff Drive.  

I was hoping to understand how they'd attempt a rescue of a swimmer trying to commit suicide in Monterey Bay at night, expecting lots of information about their jet skis, search patterns, rescue swimmers, etc.  And while they have all that, apparently, if we're looking at a rescue more than a couple hundred yards offshore, especially at night,  it would be the Harbor Patrol that would pursue the rescue, possibly in coordination with the Coast Guard.  I was told that the Harbor Patrol boat had all sorts of cool high tech equipment including thermal imaging, side sonar, sophisticated radar and more, and that I should contact the Harbormaster to find out how they approached ocean rescues.

I spoke with Latisha Marshall, the Harbormaster, and she gave my contact information to Blake Anderson, the assistant Harbormaster.  Blake would meet with me to explain rescue strategies and show me their rescue boat.  

I sent Blake a link to my scenario and when I arrived, he greeted me and introduced me to Latisha.  Blake was more than prepared to answer my questions.    I laid out my scenario and apologized, saying I understood that the likelihood of saving my swimmer was just about zero.  But Blake interrupted me and said he wasn't so sure.  Over the next thirty minutes he told me about some remarkable rescues.  One was led by Don Kinneman (Senior Deputy Harbormaster) and was later recounted by Santa Cruz's resident ocean science guru, Gary Griggs.  Griggs writes a not-to-be-missed biweekly column for the Santa Cruz Sentinel titled Our Ocean Backyard.  

Griggs describes ocean disasters, impacts of climate change, pollution, and much more.  You can find archives of his articles here.

In the early 70s, Griggs did a study of ocean currents in Monterey Bay.  He dropped floats containing postcards at various points along the coast and followed where they were found.  Ironically, in the summer of 1972, I found one of the floats in the rocks on the south end of Four-Mile Beach.  Grigg's current research would play a significant role the first story.

Amazing Rescues
In one of the rescues, Don Kinneman led the search for two brothers whose Hobie Cat had capsized.  Two very distressed women had entered the Harbor office just before dark.  The first was the wife of one brother and the second was the fiance of the other brother.  The brothers were supposed to have returned hours before.  Don put together a crew and  following the lead of the Coast Guard, searched southeast of the last known position (accounting for drift from the northwest winds).  But after hours of searching they were forced to return to the harbor about midnight.

Frustrated with their lack of success, Don didn't give up.  Having studied Gary Griggs' results on currents in the Monterey Bay, he pulled out charts, and plotted where the currents might have taken the brothers.  Don, and Cary Smith, another Harbor Patrol Officer, went back out and after starting a sweep search in the projected area, found one brother clinging to the side of the overturned boat 10 miles offshore.  He was hypothermic and likely near death so they raced back to shore and then returned to search for the other brother.   A mile further out, on a pitch-black night, they rescued the other brother.  If you think about the vastness of the Monterey Bay and the odds of finding a swimmer 11 miles out, this is truly miraculous - or beyond miracles, perhaps Don Kinneman is a rescue force to be reckoned with!

Gary Griggs gives us a nice footnote to the story that Blake didn't relate.  Don, and Cary were invited to the brother's wedding a few weeks later.  For his first toast, the groom raised his glass to Don and Cary without whose help, the wedding would have never happened.  

As Blake finished this story, which clearly reset my expectations about my swimmer's rescue, Laticia jumped in.  "Why don't you tell Steve about that rescue where you were awarded the Rescue Professional Hero Award?" she suggested.  

Modest Blake reluctantly agreed to tell the story.  

He was on duty one evening and heard what seemed to be static on the radio.  The operator had concluded that it was just static.  Somehow, Blake thought he heard something else.  At first it was 'mile buoy' and then 'water'.  Since no one else heard this, Blake went on instinct.  He found a crew member and they motored out to the mile buoy - just in case his hunch was right.  Not far beyond the buoy, they found an overturned Hobie Cat.  They continued their sweeping search and located the victim another quarter mile away.  Once again, this was another successful rescue in what I thought of as a near impossible situation.

The Harbor Patrol Boat

Moving back to my scenario, I asked Blake to take me through the entire process from the time a 911 call is placed.  He explained how they would be alerted and that once the Fire Department confirmed a rescue was needed, they'd contact the Coast Guard and would begin the search. Blake described the complex process of coordinating the searches (you'll find a dramatized account in my novel).  He then suggested he take me out on the boat.

Today, the Harbor Patrol Rescue Boat is a 21-year-old 28' RIB (Rigid Inflatable Boat) with twin 250 HP Yamaha outboards.  The 'cabin' is tricked out with  two displays which show charts, side-sonar imaging (looking at the bottom up to 40' down), thermal imaging, radar images, and much more.  They have a camera where they can record interactions with boats or rescues.  The boat has a top speed of almost 50 knots (nearly 58 mph), so it can get to distress situations remarkably fast.  The soft sides make it easier to come alongside other boats and to bring victims on board.

The Harbormaster staff includes 4 deputies who are 'offshore certified'.  As Latisha and Blake explained to me, this is a rigorous training and certification program where part of the final exam is done in the boat at night with blacked-out windows.  The candidate must show navigation and rescue skills using only instruments.  

I put on a PFD and Blake led us slowly out of the Harbor.  One screen showed the thermal imaging while the other used the side-sonar to show the bottom of the harbor entrance.  We headed toward the wharf, my eyes jumping back and forth between the thermal imaging and the windows.  A few hundred yards into our trip, I saw a kelp bed ahead of us, just offshore from the Boardwalk.  It looked like any other kelp bed.  But on the thermal image, I spotted 6 white balls moving around.  As we got closer, I could see that this was a family of sea otters - well hidden in the kelp, but visible through thermal imaging.  

On our way out to the mile buoy, we passed some swimming sea lions.  Again, I would never have seen them visually but the thermal imaging clearly saw their heads as they periodically rose above the water. 

Several hundred yards from the buoy, I could see the buoy on the thermal imaging screen.  I was a bit surprised, but Blake explained that the system spotted temperature differences and the buoy was warmer than the ocean.  Several large white objects were moving on the buoy - sea lions.  I realized just how powerful this imaging tool was.  And apparently, the Coast Guard boats and helicopters are similarly equipped.

On our way back to the harbor, Blake talked about other work he and the Harbor Patrol had undertaken.  Over the last few years, they've become instrumental in cliff rescues.  As most of us know, not only do people fall off cliffs into the ocean or get knocked off by unexpected waves, far too many beach walkers fail to pay attention to the tides.  Incoming tides have trapped many on virtually inaccessible cliff faces and in caves.  

While it's the Fire Department's cliff rescue and marine rescue teams that usually perform the actual rescues themselves, they need to locate the victims first.  With high cliffs or high wave conditions, this can be nearly impossible.  But once again, it's the Harbor Patrol and their thermal imaging to the rescue.  They can locate people and help guide the rescue teams to the victims.

Blake also talked about the Harbor Patrol's recent involvement with law enforcement.  I won't go into detail here, but they now do training for police departments, SWAT teams, and Federal agencies.  

As you can see, I was impressed.    Between 2015 and 2018, the Harbor Patrol saved over 217 lives.  I never suspected that the Harbor Patrol was so critical to the safety of our ocean-loving community.  And I wondered why.  Why didn't I know this?  How is it I could have underestimated their contribution?  I hope that this blog and my accounts to surfing buddies and friends will help get the Harbor Patrol more recognition.

The good news is that the Harbor Master recently received a Federal grant that will allow them to replace the aging Harbor Patrol Boat with a new $550,000 craft so that they can be even more effective.  

If you see the Harbor Patrol while surfing, boating, kayaking, stand-up paddling, or during other ocean activities, give them a wave.  And if there's an issue on the ballot that involves funding for the Harbormaster or Harbor Patrol, give it due consideration.  This team might one day save your life or the life of someone you love.
​

This post is intended for those of you contemplating hip replacement or those of you who might be caring for someone who's going to have hip replacement surgery.  I'm hoping to set your expectations for the recovery.

Many of you know the story of My Miraculous Wife - the blog post I did several years ago where Karen made an amazing recovery from major hip problems to actually do the Big Sur 21-mile race.

A few years went by and we were back to our active lifestyle, dancing Salsa and Swing, hiking, surfing, stand-up paddling, kayaking - you get the idea.  

But then, Karen started having hip problems again.  Our dance sessions and hikes got shorter and finally stopped.  Walking was limited and even sitting was painful.  This time, Karen's orthopedist showed us the arthritis in her left hip.  Parts of her hip were bone-on-bone, and the best spacing was less than a millimeter where there should have been four millimeters.  A very painful cortisone shot did nothing to help.  Hip replacement surgery was the only viable option.  

A few of my surfing buddies had recently had hip replacements and were now surfing as well as they did before the surgery.  Other friends had had the procedure and raved about the results.  We were hopeful.

We discussed their surgeries and recoveries with all of the people we knew, then contacted the doctors and asked for patient referrals.  It quickly became clear that the anterior (front) approach had the best recovery times and the fewest complications.  We decided to go with Dr. Nicholas Mast of SFHips in San Francisco.  Although that would require a longer drive, from what we could see, his patients had the best recoveries.  We met with Dr. Mast and his staff and got briefed on pre-op procedures and post-op plans.  We scheduled the surgery for early April in Novato (the earliest available appointment).  

Weirdly, the one physical activity that Karen could still do was downhill skiing.  She couldn't walk well (I had to carry her skis to the slopes), but boy could she ski.  The week of skiing before the surgery helped her get stronger (she had gotten pretty weak in the preceding months), and likely aided her recovery.
​

Overview of the Procedure
Your hip consists of a ball joint at the top of your femur (femoral head) that moves in the hip socket (acetabulum) which is part of your pelvis.  The socket and the femoral head are covered in cartilage which helps lubricate the joint.  

With an arthritic hip like the one in the photo at the top of this blog, the hip joint has deteriorated.  The cartilage has worn away, lubrication is gone, and bone spurs develop.  Movement becomes restricted and painful.

In the anterior approach hip replacement, a 3-4 inch incision is made in the front of the upper thigh.  The thigh muscles are pulled away from the joint and the femoral head is removed.  The hip socket is resurfaced to make it smooth and an acetabular cup is installed along with a lining.  A ridged spike-like prosthesis with a titanium ball on top is inserted into the femur.  Clamps holding muscles are removed and the muscles go back into place.  The thigh is stitched up with dissolvable sutures and a sealed bandage is applied.  

Hip replacement is one of the most successful major surgeries performed today.  Nearly all patients report getting their lives back.  

The Surgery and Time in the Hospital
We spent the night in Novato and made our way to the hospital.  Surgery was scheduled for 10:30am but pre-op began two hours earlier.  We met with Dr. Mast and with the anesthesiologist.  Dr. Mast was personable and reassuring and talked about recovery times of his patients who often were walking over a mile within a week.  He told us about one patient who went to dinner and a movie with his wife the day after surgery.  This was very encouraging!

At 10:30, they wheeled Karen into surgery.  About 11am, Dr. Mast came into the waiting room and spoke with a woman waiting for her husband who was now in recovery.  He said that her husband could go home that afternoon.  Then he turned to me and said that Karen was next. 

Just over thirty minutes later, he was back and said that everything went perfectly.  Karen would be headed to recovery and would probably be there about an hour.  He said that since she wouldn't be out of recovery before noon, she would be staying the night.  That was exactly what we expected.  

Unfortunately, Karen was in recovery two and a half hours and once in her room, she continued to have numbness in her legs, so she wouldn't be getting up to walk yet.  Apparently, people recover from anesthesia differently.  However, once the numbness subsided, Karen did walk - with a walker - but she easily (from my perspective) covered the 150 feet required for discharge.  Pain medication (we had chosen Tramadol) kept her comfortable and surprisingly, not at all loopy and it didn't upset her stomach.  

The next morning, we had a visit from the occupational therapist who showed Karen how to get on and off the toilet, get into and out of the shower, and some clever tricks for getting dressed.  A bit later, the physical therapist came by and invited Karen to walk to the physical therapy room about 500 feet away.  He and many of the nurses commented on how amazing Dr. Mast's results were.  No other surgeons compared.  The physical therapist showed Karen how to get in and out of bed and how to climb stairs using a cane.  We walked back to her room and prepared for discharge.  Basic instructions were:

- No restrictions on movements other than no lunges.
- No baths, swimming, or hot tubs for 4 weeks - showers are okay.
- For the first week, walk five minutes every hour.
- Wear TED stockings (Thrombo-Embolic-Deterrent) stockings to prevent blood clots
- Taper pain medication as appropriate. 
- Take an anti-inflammatory (Celebrex) for 30 days, and aspirin for ten days. 
- Use ice consistently to reduce pain and swelling. 
- Start physical therapy two weeks after surgery.
- Remove the bandage after 4 weeks.  
- No driving until she stops the Tramadol.
- No risky physical activities which could involve falls for 3 months. 
- Follow the instructions for exercises from the PeerWell application.   

Home Care
We made the lengthy drive home, stopping every hour so that Karen could walk for five minutes.  Once home, Karen had no problem climbing the stairs (using the cane and handrail) to the second floor of our house, home to our living room, kitchen, dining room, and bedroom.  

Karen was exhausted, so after dinner she spent the evening in bed, getting up to walk every hour.  The only significant pain she had was in and around her left knee which was hugely swollen.  With the anterior approach, no muscles are cut.  Instead, there is a 4-inch incision in the skin and the muscles and ligaments are pulled away from the hip so that the surgery can proceed.  This places major strain on the knee attachments.  

We set up a mattress in the living room in front of the television so that Karen could watch TV when bored.  

At this point, and for some time to come, I needed to be present to help Karen get into and out of the shower, get dressed, and to supply her with ice packs.  I also provided massage of her thigh, knee, and lower leg multiple times a day.  

Over the next few days, Karen did as the PeerWell application instructed with exercises and meditations.  In addition to a guided recovery, PeerWell tracked her progress and reported back to Dr. Mast's office.  Remembering Dr. Mast's words about the patients with amazingly fast recoveries, Karen increased her walks of five minutes an hour to ten minutes, then to more.  However, it seemed the swelling and pain in her knee increased.  She had expected to stop pain medication (others had done so at this point), but it wasn't possible.  

We called Abigail, one of Dr. Mast's PAs (physician assistants), and she said that for the first week, Karen should really be reclined or lying down fully, except for the five minute walks.  And, she emphasized keeping the walks to five minutes.  As we later discovered, this is what the patients with the best recoveries had done.  Dr Mast is a great surgeon, and as you'll see, Karen's recovery was remarkable, but Dr. Mast may be a bit over-enthusiastic about the pace of recovery for some patients.  ​

For the next few days, Karen remained prone most of the time, doing the five minute walks.  She could sit to eat, but needed to keep her leg elevated without too much bending at the hip.  After day 7, she began increasing her walking time, very much aware not to increase too much too fast.  

Pace of Recovery
On day 9 after surgery, I came down from my office to find Karen grinning from ear to ear.  She asked me to watch and then proceeded to walk the length of our hallway without her walker.  I was very impressed.  She still used the walker to get on and off the toilet that day, but by day 10, the walker was history. And, so was the pain medication.  Karen had begun tapering after a week (the setback from too much walking early on probably delayed that), but by day 10, she was done.  However, we still iced after walks and before bed.  

On day 11, Karen went downstairs for the first time using a cane and we went for a walk outside.  After 10 days cooped up inside, Karen was ecstatic to be out and about.  We walked to the end of the block and back several times that day.  Karen used walking sticks (we'd bought them for hiking some years before).  These are a better than a cane for walking as they allow for a more natural, even gait.

At two weeks, Karen had her first physical therapy appointment.  After testing, the focus was on range of motion.  Karen couldn't put on her TED stocking, socks, or tie her shoes by herself.  The physical therapist gave her exercises and thereafter, Karen just used Peerwell for meditations and progress tracking.   She also made a remarkable discovery - if she pulled the TED stockings over her knee, it greatly reduced knee pain and swelling - we should have done that from the beginning.  Since her surgery was on her left side and since we have a car with an automatic transmission, Karen was able to drive.  She was a bit nervous - an accident or sudden stop might be painful, but she was pleased to have more freedom of movement.

On day 15, Karen stopped using the cane going up stairs.

On day 17, she could walk downstairs with alternating steps.

On day 18, she could walk upstairs with alternating steps.  At this point, we were doing several 20 minute walks a day on flat sidewalks - adding up to over 3 miles.  Karen was cautiously increasing her distance every other day.  

At three weeks, we went for a hike in Ano Nuevo.  The total distance was almost two miles with a massage break at the halfway point.  The uneven surfaces were much more challenging and tiring than walking on flat sidewalks.   She took the next day off to recover.

At four weeks, the bandage came off and we did a wound inspection via video conference with Abigail, Dr. Mast's PA.  Everything looked great.  At this point, the Physical Therapist showed us how to start massaging the scar.  We also started doing tougher hikes with more elevation and Karen started doing short rides on a recumbent stationary bike.  

At five weeks, Karen could tie her shoes but with difficulty.  

6 Weeks and beyond
At 6 weeks, we started doing more significant hikes and Karen tried disc golf - this involves a dramatic twisting of the body with substantial pressure on the hips and a lot of walking.  We also cautiously restarted our Salsa dancing at Salsa by the Sea at the base of the Santa Cruz Wharf.  

At 9 weeks, Karen began doing daily yoga sessions (via videos)  in addition to the physical therapy exercises and  regular treadmill and stationary bike workouts.  Her flexibility increased steadily.  For all intents and purposes, Karen was back to where she was a year before the surgery - actually, better!

12 Weeks - All Clear!
After 12 weeks, Karen started biking.  We're also very confident about some more difficult hikes - falling is no longer a major risk to the prosthesis.  We're dancing regularly at full speed with dramatic moves and fast turns,  and are back to our previous active lifestyle.  Karen continues to work on getting stronger and on increasing her flexibility. 

This past week we played disc golf at Kirkwood Ski Resort.  The course is physically demanding, even if you're in great shape.  We played the entire course complete with significant climbs at altitude, scrambling over rocks and cascading creeks, and making challenging throws on one of the most difficult courses we've played.  Next week, we'll be doing more disc golf there, then cooling off by kayaking and stand-up paddling on nearby Silver Lake.  

It's great to have our old  life back again!

Lessons Learned
First, Karen believes, and I agree, that she waited too long for the surgery.  Constant struggles with pain as our active lifestyle declined could have been avoided with an earlier surgery.

Choose the best surgeon and talk to his/her patients about their experiences and recoveries.  If Karen needs another hip replacement, or if I do, we'll go to Dr. Mast again.  

Don't be in a rush to get off the pain meds.  There's no competition with other patients who may have told you they were done with meds after two days.

Last, and most important, be patient with the recovery.  Go slowly and you'll get there faster.  

I have to admit it.  Even after the testimonies of my friends, I was worried about the hip replacement for Karen.  It's a major surgery!  But with an excellent surgeon, great support staff and physical therapist, and Karen's amazing work ethic and never give up attitude, My Miraculous Wife has done it again!

If you liked this blog, please check out my novels.
​

I'm a skeptic.  When I studied philosophy, I called myself an empiricist.  Essentially, I don't believe in things unless they're proven.  This is especially true when it comes to medical fads:  vitamins, supplements, dietary changes, alternative medicine - you name it.  Unless I can see some double blind studies that show solid evidence of their efficacy, count me out.  

Of course sometimes my skepticism goes too far.  I like to think that I'm well-read and well-informed, but the reality is, you can't know everything, no matter how hard you try.  So what about the things you don't know about?  Me, I try to do the research, but it's usually only after I bump into these unknowns in some way or another.  

This was the case with Osteopathy.  I knew Karen's son (Victor) and daughter (Sabrina)  had enrolled in medical school and I knew that each of their schools specialized in Osteopathy.  From my rudimentary understanding at the time, it seemed like it had something to do with manual manipulation to supplement standard medical care - something like chiropractic.  But, since it didn't affect me, I didn't pay much attention.  

Fast forward a couple of years.  It's the day after Christmas and I'm surfing with a couple of friends on the north coast.  Perfect morning, excellent uncrowded waves, good company.  I climbed the cliff, drove home, and took a shower.  Within an hour, I couldn't raise my right arm. The funny thing was that I couldn't remember hurting myself in the surf.  Sure there were some tough duck dives and a few rail grabs, but usually I know when I've pulled something.  Not this time.  

It was officially a holiday and I knew my sports-med doc wouldn't be available so I went with the standard RICE treatment (Rest, Ice, Compression, and Elevation).  I also loaded up on Ibuprofen. The next day it was worse, not better.  I called the Doc's office and found out they were closed until after the first of the year.  I called back-up sports-med docs and all were out for the rest of the year as well.  All I could do was continue my RICE treatment.  

At one point, I tried some stretching, but no luck.  I had to eat left-handed, drive with one hand - do everything left handed - I couldn't raise my arm more than an inch or two and then, only with extreme pain.  

Of course I went to the internet and quickly determined that the main area of pain was the coracoid process with radiating pain into the scapula and bicep, but I was unable to find anything that seemed to relate to my specific problem.

The following weekend, Karen and I were on a call with Karen's daughter, Sabrina (who now runs Resilience Health in Eugene, Oregon) and soon-to-be son-in-law, Steve (another Osteopath focusing on Family Medicine).  I described my problem and Sabrina proposed the following: "Lie on your back. Have my Mom put the index finger of her right hand on your coracoid process and simultaneously lift your right arm into a fainting woman's position - palm outward on your forehead.  Have her re-position the arm until you have minimal pain in the coracoid process. Have her hold that position for ninety seconds.  Then have her return your arm to your side and rest for five or ten minutes."  

We did as she asked.  Ten minutes later, I sat up and raised my arm to shoulder level.   After an hour, I could raise my arm over my head with zero pain.  Later that afternoon, Karen and I were Salsa dancing at Salsa by the Sea and I had no recurring problems.

In between we called her back and she explained how this worked.  I'm not an Osteopath, so I'll paraphrase.  Basically, sometimes nerves send bad signals to the brain and the brain reinforces a problem by trying to fix it.  Swelling and pain may increase and your body gets into a feedback loop.  The technique she used is called Counterstrain.  The pressure on the specific point and re-positioning sends a reset signal to the brain allowing the body to move on.  It certainly worked for me.   After a week with a paralyzed arm, this instant recovery seemed truly miraculous.  

As I often do when I find something new, I went crazy doing research into Osteopathy.  I discovered that Osteopathic physicians are regular physicians - they can do family medicine, psychiatry, surgery - anything an 'Allopathic' doctor can do.   But, during medical school, in addition to the standard medical training, they study Osteopathy.  They also are trained to do more holistic evaluation and treatment of patients, focusing on causes, not just treating symptoms.  Osteopaths try to tap into the body's ability to heal itself before moving on to more aggressive treatments.  Officially Osteopathy is:

a system of complementary medicine involving the treatment of medical disorders through the manipulation and massage of the skeleton and musculature.

You can recognize Osteopaths by the 'DO' after their names as opposed to an 'MD' for an Allopathic doctor.  

A year and a half after that first incident, I was surfing the same spot. I pulled into a barrel which collapsed on me.  I held onto my board and felt my left shoulder tear.  By time I got my wetsuit off, my shoulder had swollen to the size of a grapefruit.  I raced home.

Fortunately, Karen's son, Victor, an Osteopath who focuses on Neuromuscular Medicine and now runs Seek Optimal Health with his wife Lee Ann (also a gifted Osteopath specializing in Neuromuscular Medicine), was visiting.  He stretched me out and started working on me.  He discovered (without an MRI), a small rotator cuff tear and a misalignment.  He treated me for about 45 minutes (most of it was painful), after which he explained that he had opened up passages (my word) to release the built up fluid (swelling), and had re-positioned my shoulder and upper back.  He suggested I follow up with RICE and Ibuprofen for 3 days after which time I could get back in the water.

As I got up, I discovered that at least 90% of the swelling was gone as was most of the pain.  I followed his advice and sure enough, 3 days later, I was back in the water.  

In the years since, Osteopathy has become a regular part of my treatment for acute injuries.  It has proven very effective, especially when combined with good physical therapy.  Most Osteopaths suggest regular treatment to keep the body aligned and fluids flowing.  I haven't gone that far yet, but I may well be on my way.  

If you're like me and injure yourself from time to time, I strongly suggest consulting an Osteopath. Of course, check to see if your family doctor or Sports Medicine expert is a DO.  I think you'll be pleased to find that miracles still exist in modern medicine.  

It was a spectacular day on the north coast.  A friend I hadn't seen in years came up to surf with me and there were only four of us out in perfect shoulder-high waves with a few plus sets.  An hour into the session, I raced down the line hoping for a barrel in the section ahead, but at the last second, the water under the section drained with the dropping tide and I tried to turn down and out. 

Unfortunately, the back rail of my board hung up and did an el-rollo with my foot while my knee went in the opposite direction.  I felt a major tearing.  I paddled back into the lineup and talked to the physical therapist who was surfing with us.  He suggested that from the symptoms, it was a MCL tear - one of the most common surfing injuries.  He also said that if the injury didn't involve other ligaments or the meniscus, it likely wouldn't need surgery.  

Ironically, a few minutes later, my friend hurt his back, so we hobbled up the cliff together, disappointed at the number of uncrowded perfect waves we were going to miss.  

I raced home, showered, iced, and elevated my leg, then waited patiently for the arrival of Karen's son and daughter-in-law, both Osteopaths and specialists in Neuromuscular Medicine. They were planning to spend part of the weekend with us.  Two rounds of disc golf were scheduled for the next day and I envisioned being able to play.   Little did I know.

By the fifth week, I was feeling pretty good.  The swelling was almost completely gone and although my knee would get stiff if I sat for a while, doing the passive knee extension and flexion after getting up seemed to work well.  I bought a brace with a strap, and decided to try to surf.  The strap is cool because you can wrap it around the weak parts of your knee to provide much more support.  It stretches so you can make it really tight and it velcros to itself.  

I paddled out into easy, mushy rights and lefts.  My first wave was a right (backside for me), and as I started my bottom turn, I felt my knee give and pull.  It hurt like hell but the pain subsided quickly,  I decided to try a left and had no pain at all until I did an aggressive cutback.  I stuck with lefts for the next hour and surfed cautiously.  Unfortunately, I discovered that when you duck a wave, the wave pulls at your legs, sometimes to the side, and when that happened it definitely hurt.  I was sore after the session but I was glad to have surfed.  Still, I knew I wasn't ready.  It wouldn't take much to re-injure my knee in the surf.  Anything unforeseen would do real damage.  

I worked hard with the exercises and the gym the following week and tried again.  This time the waves were small but quick and mostly lefts.  I had a great time until I tried a right.  Again, driving off the back leg hurt.  It wasn't unstable like it was the week before, but still.  

It's now been eight weeks.  This past week, I was able to make full backside bottom turns and aggressive cutbacks on my lefts.  I surfed four really fun days.  On the last day though, I punched through a large set and got tossed around by the last wave.  I really felt it in my knee.  It didn't tear, wasn't any worse later, but I know that I can't let up on the strengthening exercises.  I still have a ways to go for 'full recovery'.  In the meantime, I can hike, dance, and play disc golf (took 4th in a tournament yesterday with no pain).  

Mistakes I made.

Realistically, Karen's son was right.  It's going to be 12 weeks for full recovery, particularly for surfing.  I seriously underestimated how much inward force you put on your knee in a backside turn or frontside cutback.  I seriously underestimated the force of the ocean, which is a very stupid thing to do.  And at the beginning, I tried to do too much too soon.  I'd try to push walking and tried to do the harder strengthening exercises when I wasn't ready.  Each time I did, it set me back a couple of days with renewed swelling and loss of flexibility.  

Overall though, I'm almost there.  Still, perhaps you can avoid some of the mistakes I made.

Set your expectations - it's going to take longer than you think.
Don't do too much too soon.  Be very cautious as you restart any activity.
Spend the extra for the best brace possible.

And, I think the main reason for my successful recovery is the dedication to the daily (or more) stretching exercises, and consistent and progressive strengthening exercises.  

The good news is that if it's an MCL tear with no other damage, you can rehab it yourself. But above all, you need Patience, Patience, Patience!

Update January 2018.

It's been a year and a half since I first injured my MCL as described above.  The rehab program worked, and I was back to full activity with maximal stress (surfing, extreme skiing, etc.) within 4 months (with a lot of hard work in rehabbing it).  Everything seemed fine and then, six weeks ago, while Salsa dancing on a rough surface, my foot caught in a fast turn and I felt my MCL pull.  It was too painful to continue dancing so I stopped.  By time I got home, my knee was hugely swollen.  I started the RICE treatment, but underestimated the severity of the injury.  Yes, it was only a grade 1 injury - there was no looseness under the Valgus test, but almost any activity caused huge swelling.  I consulted my muscular medicine doc and he informed me that re-injuries are often worse from the point of view of healing time.  Unfortunately, he was right. 

I hate being sidelined from the surf during one of the best seasons we've had in years.  And, not being able to run, dance, ski, etc. is depressing at this time of year.  

So here I am, six weeks later.  The pain is gone.  Most of the range of motion has returned (with lots of stretching), and I'm working on strengthening.  The plyometric exercises are still tough.  I did try surfing and easy front side is okay but I can tell I'm not quite ready for more aggressive turns.  I will be giving skiing a shot this week (now that there's a bit of snow in the Sierra).  In the meantime, I'm working hard on the strengthening and I now realize that to avoid re-re-injuring my knee, I need to keep up these exercises even after I'm back to 100%.  They're going to become part of my daily routine, much like core strengthening has.  Core strenghthening  resolved all of my back problems and I expect I can avoid further knee injuries if I keep up these knee exercises too.  

So, a final word of advice.  Once you're back to normal, don't stop your strengthening and range of motion exercises.  Do them regularly and hopefully, you can avoid a re-injury that will sideline you for several weeks.

If you liked this blog, please check out my novels.
​

I recently received a very complimentary email from a surfer/entrepreneur who had just read The Silicon Lathe.  He appreciated the parallels I tried to draw between extreme sports and trying to succeed in the Silicon Valley.  He spoke extensively about how the book accurately depicts the cutthroat competition of the Silicon Valley, especially for a young, idealistic entrepreneur.  But I think I most appreciated his comments about my treatment of surfing: "This is one of the truest descriptions of surfing I've ever read.  I made my wife read it and now she gets it."

Actually, I think he's wrong,  what I wrote isn't most intriguing example of surfing I've ever read (or written), and I'm pretty sure that without actually surfing, his wife doesn't really get it, but I thought I'd post one of the surfing excerpts here (there are several in the book, most more uplifting):

From The Silicon Lathe:

Surfing is not what most people think it is.  Films and popular culture have presented it as either Beach Blanket Bingo-like parties on the beach with everyone sharing waves, surf odysseys where you meet friendly people around the world as you search for the perfect wave, or hard core life-threatening big wave surfing, where one mistake means certain death.
In reality, surfing is much less romantic. 

First and foremost, it is the hardest sport I’ve ever tried.  You’re skiing intermediate and advanced slopes after a week or two of trying.  You can be soaring a hang glider within a couple of months of your first run down a sand dune.  You can be paddling intermediate Class 3 whitewater after several days on a river.  But with surfing, after two or three years of practicing every day, you might be an intermediate level surfer. 


Part of this is strength, conditioning, teaching your body to do something unnatural, learning the timing of the breaking waves and understanding the differences between waves on a beach break, reef breaks, and points.  You also need to know about tide changes, rip tides, wind forecasts, storm and swell prediction, and even water pollution levels which rise on the season’s first big swell or first major rain, both of which wash decaying matter from the hillsides and beaches into the ocean. I’ve already mentioned sharks.  But more than that, it’s cutthroat competition.  There are tens of thousands of surfers and they all expect to catch every wave that rolls in. 


Most surf spots have locals.  These are the surfers who surf there every day.  Take a wave that ‘belonged’ to a local, and you will be physically attacked by his friends when you get out of the water.  Your car will be vandalized; your girlfriend threatened.


Even when you’re a local, there are often so many people in the water that you’ll be lucky to get more than five waves in an hour.  With fifty-degree water and wind, even with your wetsuit, you get out of the water so cold that you can’t put your fingers together.  You might even have to ask a stranger to open the door to your car because you can’t grip and turn the key yourself.   And then there are the bad days. 

You paddle out, almost reaching the lineup – the place just outside the breaking waves where you wait to catch the oncoming swells, and a much larger than normal set of waves approaches.  You use all your strength to try to paddle over the wave, but it breaks on top of you.  You think this is okay because you and your board have punched through the wall of the wave and you are in the sunlight beyond.  Unfortunately, the force of the wave and the vacuum created as it tubes and barrels towards the beach grabs hold of your feet which are not all the way through.  The wave sucks you back into the hollowed hole from the collapsing tube and you are rolled over and over for what seems like minutes, even though it is only twenty or thirty seconds.  You finally get free of the wave’s clutches and float to the surface.  You quickly grab a breath as the next wave in the set breaks right in front of you.  You attempt to duck dive, to force you and your buoyant board deep under the oncoming wave, but when it’s big, you can’t get down deep enough.  The wave grabs you and your board and hurls you shoreward in a mass of churning whitewater.  You’re thrown upside down, sideways, in circles, sometimes bouncing off the bottom, stuffing your sinuses with water that will flow freely from your nose later in the day when you bend over to kiss someone.  When you finally escape this wave, there are more.  You may successfully duck dive, but with each successive wave, you lose more ground; you’re almost back to the beach. 


On a bad day, it’s all about luck and timing.  You try to paddle out again, and just as you reach the lineup, you repeat the experience.  After several times, you’re exhausted. Shoulders ache. Arms refuse to move.  As you try to get speed to paddle over the next set, you’re too weak and it just gets worse and worse.  In spite of all the energy expended, you’re now cold.  You’ve spent more time below the water than above it and the wetsuit doesn’t help much.  Tired and cold, if you’re a real surfer, you don’t give up.  Ultimately, you luck out, there’s a longer lull than normal and you make it out to a chorus of, “Man, you really got worked in there!”  And now you face the competition for waves. 


Maybe you get lucky.  Maybe your friends feel sorry for you and let you have one of the best waves of the day.  You drop to the bottom of the overhead wave and look upwards.  You aim your board at the feathering lip and feel the acceleration of you and your board as you rise upwards to meet it.  With perfect timing, your board and the wave meet and the falling water forces you back to the bottom.  You repeat this over and over.  It’s a dance.  You’re in perfect harmony.  You look down the line of the wave and you see a concave section ahead.  It’s already starting to pitch over.  You have a choice.  You could turn down and safely end your ride as the rest of the wave closes out ahead.  Instead, you go for it, crouching, then extending your body forward to add speed.  As you reach the edge of the concavity, you squat low and sure enough, you’re inside the wave with small window of light out ahead.  You hold on and pop out a few seconds later to imagined cheers from the beach.  Of course, no one saw it.  The guys in the lineup can’t see the front of the wave and are looking at the next ones in the set anyway.  It’s yours and only yours, and somehow even for just one perfect wave, the struggle and fatigue and stuffed sinuses were worth it.

Most of the reason we came to France so early this season was that Karen was invited to play in a disc golf tournament sponsored by our local club in Tarnos on the 7th of September.  Because of demands at work and some new injuries, Karen didn't play much disc golf this past summer so the week before we left and the few days after our arrival, we practiced as much as we could, getting her used to new discs and to having me as her caddy. 

The day of the tournament, everyone was surprised that I wasn't going to play.  After Karen and her friend literally begged me to play, I reluctantly agreed.  I have never wanted to play in a disc golf competition.  I compete with myself, not with others.   

The tournament went smoothly, Karen finished second among the four women playing.  The one who beat her plays on the French National Women's team.  I finished in the middle of the pack of excellent, experienced players.  I was pleasantly surprised. 

During the third round, on the most difficult par 4 hole, Gilbert Carniel, one of the older players (my age) who is the primary contact for the Coutras club, helped me out of a difficult situation.  The shot looked impossible to me, but he showed me a trick and I dropped my disc next to the pin.  After being down quite a bit in that last round and suffering from the 90+ degree heat, something about learning a new shot inspired me and I subsequently had 4 birdies and finished the round a respectable 2 over par.  Gilbert's 15-year old son Mike, who is on the French National Junior team, easily won the competition 9 under par while his sister Kim took the honors for the women.

I mention this because the real story in this blog is about the next tournament which was sponsored by the Gilbert's club in Coutras on Sunday the 21st of September.  It was the last disc golf tournament for the season which was part of the Southwest (France) tour.   

Six of us from the Tarnos club made the 3 hour trek to Coutras for the tournament.  Unfortunately, several of the other club members had other obligations.    As we entered the town, I realized that Karen and I had been there before.  We had stopped there for lunch on our way back from the Dordogne two years ago.   

Coutras is a village of about 8,000 people that sits where two rivers, L'isle and the Dronne meet.  It is considered the gateway to the spectacular Dordogne region and is a only few minutes away from the famous Saint-Emilion wine region. 

We were greeted warmly by Disc Golf Club Coutrillon (Coutrillon is what people from Coutras call themselves) and a light breakfast was waiting.  In addition to Gilbert, Mike, and Kim, Steve, another son who is on the French National Team, was going to play.  Gilbert's wife managed the refreshments and scoring, and between matches, his grandson who was about two tried to throw discs.  I think you get the idea here.  

The course was challenging.  Every hole had OB areas (out of bounds - in the map, white lines are the paths to the baskets; red lines indicate the out of bounds areas around each hole) which made the course very technical.  Don't go wide or it costs you a stroke.  Don't go long past the basket or it costs you a stroke.  Don't go too short or it will cost you a stroke.  Two doglegs had very tight restrictions.  But the most interesting thing was hole number 2 - the 'ilot' - the island.  The basket was in a small field and was surrounded by an OB rope.  The diameter of the island was about 6 meters.  The tee was on a ridge that ran along the highway.  It was about 150 feet away but about 20 feet above the island and the island was at about a 30 degree angle to the ridge.  You had to stand on the ridge and land your disc in the island on the first shot.  If you missed, you got a second shot with no penalty.  If you missed again, you took a penalty and moved to the closer tee which was about halfway to the basket along the ridge where you got to keep trying. 

The island was Gilbert's idea and from what I understand, he previously has done quite well with it.  I felt really bad about taking 6 on that hole after being under par until then (our group started on hole 6), but Gilbert consoled me by telling me he scored 10 (the max) on it.  Karen on the other hand landed in with her first shots during her first two rounds. She was a contender for the 'closest to the pin' prize until the last round when Laurent from the Lagorce club, who was otherwise having a very bad day, beat her out by a few centimeters. 

I learned a lesson from these competitions.  As much skill as you may develop, Disc Golf, like many other sports, is a psychological game.  Much as Gilbert's trick helped me on to much better performance at Tarnos, my poor performance at the Island dragged me down on subsequent holes.  And it did it on each round - I got discouraged.  Fortunately, on the second round, it came near the end, so it was only my last few holes that showed the effects.   This is something I really need to work on. 

Putting aside my personal challenges with the day, I can't deny that the weather conditions were ideal, everyone had a great time, and I learned a lot about what disc golf can be.  The DGCC club sponsors community disc golf events, bringing children and families into the park for festivities and disc golf lessons.  This particular tournament was a handicapped event, so even those who didn't play well had a chance of winning a prize.  And it was fascinating to see a family so dedicated to the sport.   

I note that in France, the cities provide a small amount of funding to clubs who bring recreational activities to their communities.  The clubs must be what we would call corporations, with officers, annual meetings,  and a plan for each year.  Some of the disc golf clubs are also sponsored by local businesses. 

While disc golf hasn't yet exploded in France, if the club at Coutras is any example, it won't be long before it becomes a great family sport here. 

Last week, I paddled out to the Lane and, politely waited a couple of sets before grabbing a larger set wave.  A guy dropped in on me.  These things happen from time to time, and I expected him to kick out once he knew I was there, but he didn't.  At the end of the wave I paddled over and asked him why he'd done that.

"Did what?" he asked.

"Dropped in on me," I responded as I paddled back out to the lineup. 

"I'll do it again," he challenged.

"Why?" I asked. 

I was met by silence so I made my way back out where several people just shook their heads at his rudeness.  It was the dawn patrol and it's not generally terribly agro out there.  People wait their turn in the rotation. 

A few minutes later the guy made it to the lineup and said, "Okay.  I'll tell you why I dropped in on you.  It's because you almost ran me off the road on Highway 1, passing on a blind curve."

I responded that he must have had the wrong guy.  Being someone who bikes up Highway 1 and who has seen some bad incidents there, being retired, and not in much of a hurry anymore, I drive a sedate 55-60mph up Highway 1, respecting the 45mph in Davenport.  Aside from farm equipment, I can count on one hand the number of people I've passed on Highway 1 in the past several years.  I'm just not in that much of a hurry. 

"What kind of car was it?" I queried, hoping to prove my innocence.

"I don't remember."

A couple of people in the lineup told him they found it hard to believe that Steve would run anyone off the road. 

"It was you.  I saw you," he argued.

Much later in the session after a long ride where I was coming around a section near the end of the wave, he dropped in again, preventing me from making the section.  It was clearly symbolic as there was no real wave left.  He went in after that. 

The incident bothered me.  It really bothered me. 

I spent a sleepless night, trying to figure out how he could be so sure it was me when I know I don't drive like that. 

An then it dawned on me. 

I don't remember exactly when, but I was driving my Audi up the coast (Karen must have had the electric car since that's what I usually drive).  I was north of Santa Cruz in the right lane just past Granite Rock approaching Dimeo Lane - the road that leads to the Santa Cruz dump.  The passing lane ends just after Dimeo. 

I saw a van on Dimeo approach the stop sign but didn't think anything of it.  I figured he'd stop until I went by.  But, he didn't stop, didn't even look.  I had momentary hopes that he'd stay to the right since there were still a few yards until it became a single lane and there was a wide shoulder on the right, but no, he pulled out into the middle of the merging lanes going maybe 10 to 15mph.  I slammed on my brakes and felt the ABS kick in.  Just before slamming into the back of him, I swerved left across the double yellow line, stepped on the gas and zipped around him.  

I don't think I honked - there wasn't time.  I just wrote it off as someone who was completely distracted.  But it was a close call, almost ending my accident-free driving record. 

As my speed got back up to my usual 55-60mph, I looked in my rearview mirror and there he was, honking his horn and crawling up my butt.  When we reached the passing lane by 3-mile, he didn't pass, he just kept surging behind me and honking his horn.  I continued driving sedately and he eventually pulled off at four-mile as I continued up the coast wondering what had gotten into that guy. 

I guess he's been holding a grudge for a long time.  It wasn't a blind curve - the road was perfectly straight and no cars were coming.  There was a wide shoulder that he didn't need because I passed in the other lane.  But somehow in his mind, I raced up behind him at a million miles an hour and blew by him passing where I shouldn't have.  He's sure I'm some asshole driver who tried to force him off the road. 

And of course, now he has to pay me back in the surf. 

I'm sure I've done it and you've done it.  We lock into our perspectives and are sure we're in the right.  The other guy is in the wrong.  The other guy is an asshole.  It might be on the road; it might be in the surf; it might be in politics or in the Middle East.   

But we're not always in the right.  We all make mistakes.  We often fail to see them. 

Wouldn't the world be a better place if we could keep open minds, listen to the other side, and at least consider the possibility that we might not be in the right?  If this approach doesn't solve the world's problems, it could at least make the roads and the surf a little less stressful.

Last year for our wedding anniversary, Karen agreed to take some time off.  Normally when we're in France she works as much or more than she does at home, but this time, she agreed to take a few days to explore some of southern France.   Of course no trip these days is possible without disc golf, so we decided to at least check out two of the courses on our way from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean.   Our first stop was intended to be a short visit to a ski resort that had a disc golf course.  We had visions of the amazing course at Kirkwood, and the vistas as we wound our way up to the Le Mourtis ski resort didn't disappoint us.  

Unfortunately, as we climbed the mountain, the winds and clouds increased, and by time we pulled into the only open restaurant/bar, it was raining.  The people were friendly and did know about disc golf, even offering to lend us discs, but they warned us that with the construction going on, the course was in a state of disrepair. 

We found most of the tees, but many of the baskets had been damaged and there was lots of heavy equipment on the ski slopes.  They had knocked down trees, moved huge amounts of earth right in front of tees, and scared the face of a beautiful mountain.  I'm sure it will look much nicer covered in snow. 

We left Le Mourtis disappointed but excited to get to our next destination, Sauveterre-de-Rouergue, a very small village about an hour northeast of Toulouse.  We were staying at Le Senechal, a hotel with a Michelin-starred restaurant.  We had dinner reservations for our anniversary, the next night.    Sauveterre-de-Rouergue  also had an 18-hole disc golf course with baskets. 

We checked into the hotel, confirmed our reservation for dinner, then asked if there was anywhere we could eat get dinner locally that evening.  The owner of the four-star hotel told us that their restaurant was closed for the evening, but that there would certainly be a restaurant open in the square. 

Sauveterre-de-Rouergue is a Bastide, build in the 13th century in the land of 100 valleys.  It sits on top of a hill, and as a Bastide, is a small rectangular village built around a central courtyard - the 'square'.  It was after 7pm and we were hungry. 

Unfortunately, all the restaurants in the square were closed.  We wandered around and found a small epicerie (grocery store) that was open, but whose shelves were largely empty.  We spoke with the owner, who assured us that at least one restaurant was always open.  The different restaurant owners coordinated the days they closed.  The owner of the epicerie walked us over to each restaurant and was surprised that they were all closed.  She called the owners who told her that since the high season had ended the day before, they had all decided to close for that one evening. 

She took us back into her store to try to find something for us to eat.  We ended up with olives, crackers, cheese, dark chocolate bars, and a 3 euro bottle of wine.  She apologized for being out of wine and called the wine seller around the corner, but he, too, was closed.    She lent us a corkscrew and we went back to our hotel room where we sat out on the balcony and watched a spectacular sunset as we ate our dinner.   Surprisingly, the wine was quite drinkable. 

The next morning we got up early and walked down to the disc golf course in one of the valleys below the Bastide.  The course was far beyond anything we expected.  It was an 18-hole course in a setting of rolling hills, trees, and meadows with a creek running through it.   

The signage was the best I've seen on any course we've played.  At each tee, there is a sign with a perfect depiction of the terrain - each obstacle, tree, water, alternate pin placements, distances, recommended drives, and both pointers and descriptions to the next holes. 

The course itself was lush and green, but all of the open meadows had been recently mowed.  Many of the holes ran along the creek and with a few, you have to throw across the creek.  Officially, the creek is not out-of-bounds. 

Karen had recently bought a Vulcan Blizzard, and its flotation proved nice but challenging as at one point, I had to chase the disc down the creek.  It floated too well. 

At the end of our first day of play, we took a beautiful trail back up to the Bastide.  We had lunch at one of the restaurants on the square and were talking about disc golf when a middle-aged man approached us and asked if we played disc golf.  We told him we'd just finished playing the course there and that it was one of the most beautiful and well-laid out courses we'd ever played. 

He beamed with pride as he told us that he was the head of recreation for the area, that he designed the course, and that he did all the course maintenance.  While he didn't play himself, he'd done extensive research on disc golf an had hosted the French national tour there. 

He joined us for a drink and told us stories about the area.

That night, Karen and I had one of the best dinners of our lives at Le Senechal.  Michel Truchon, the chef, introduced himself and personally explained the preparation of each dish.  It was fall, so cepes (a remarkable mushroom), and chestnuts were in season and showed up prominently in most of our dishes that evening. 

The next morning, we played another great round of disc golf on this very special course then returned for a sumptuous breakfast (again prepared with local ingredients by Michel Truchon) before continuing our anniversary trip as we headed south and east in search of Templar treasure.  But that's another story. 

Almost three years ago, Karen asked me to join her in her new sport, disc golf.  I laughed.  After all, I'm a surfer, skier, hang glider pilot, whitewater kayaker - a risk sport person.  Why would I ever want to do something like disc golf?  Worse, while I'd thrown a Frisbee a few times decades ago, I was terrible at it compared to my friends in college who did all sorts of trick throws on the beach.   I couldn't imagine that this was something I would ever want to do. 

But Karen's son Victor had introduced her to the game/sport and she really seemed to like it, so I reluctantly agreed to give it a try.  She gave me a Valkyrie driver disc and a putter and off we went.  As expected, I was terrible. 

We started at DeLaveaga which is a world-renown championship course - probably way out of our league.  But we stuck with it, playing most days after work for an hour or two.  Somewhere along the line, we played the courses at Black Mouse, in the redwoods in Felton, and at Kirkwood, in the Sierra.   The beauty of these courses convinced me that disc golf is a reason to go hiking - most of the courses are in semi-remote areas and it can be a decent workout to play them.

On our next visit to France we brought a few discs with us, ready to play.  I printed the map of the course at Tarnos, located in Parc de la Baye, and Karen and I found it after searching for quite a while.  Unfortunately, we couldn't find any tees or markers for targets, and even worse, most of the park was under water after heavy rains.  We were discouraged.  To stay in practice, we found some open space areas in Anglet near the beach and practiced our throws with imagined targets.  

On our next trip to France, we took a portable basket.   Portable is probably overstated.  I called it luggable.  It weighs over 25 pounds and is awkward to carry when set up.  We played in the park at Anglet but it quickly grew boring and with other people walking though, difficult.  Searching the web, I found the website for  Disc Golf Sud Landes  and saw that I had been updated.    We went back to Tarnos, hoping to see other players.    We did our best to play the parts of the course we could identify from the map, but never played more than 8 or 9 holes, many of which we just made up.  At this point, Karen was just beginning her hip rehabilitation and was limited in how far she could walk.  

Once interested (I can't say 'hooked' yet), we wanted to keep playing on our extended visits to France.  I searched for disc golf courses in France and discovered http://www.disc-golf.fr/ which showed about 25 courses in France.  Unfortunately, there was only one course near our place in the Pays Basque and it appeared to be a target course - no fixed baskets.  The nearest course with baskets was over two hours away.  

A year later, we were arrived at Tarnos about noon on a Sunday morning.  I set up the basket in the parking lot and we pulled out our discs.  Much to our surprise, there were several disc golf players just finishing up a  game.  Jean, the president of the club introduced himself and told us that they played every Sunday morning at 9:30am. 

He showed us their baskets which couldn't have weighed more than a pound or two and explained to us that they had tried to put in a fixed course with permanent baskets but that the  baskets had been damaged and usually stolen for the metal.  One of the other players explained that Jean had designed their current portable baskets - impressive since even though they're so lightweight, they don't fall over when a fast moving disc hits them. 

We joined the club and started playing every Sunday morning, on holidays, and occasionally when someone has an afternoon off.  They gave us really cool short and long-sleeved shirts.   For the most part, the course is flat  but heavily treed with lots of blackberry bushes, nettles,  and thistles along the 'fairways'.  Bad shots often result in painful retrievals.  There are 6-8 par 4 holes depending on how they play the course on a given day.  With the trees and obstacles (including water), it's a challenging course.  

This past rainy Sunday,  there were 8 of us.  Jean, the president of the club is impressive.  On one of our outings he played the entire course with a putter and I think he still made par.  Michel has the most impressive forehand/side arm throw I've ever seen - a perfect 'S' every time.  Franck has developed some impressive distance and accuracy and is always bringing the latest discs which he orders from the States.  When I get back, I'll be deviating from my Innova disc obsession after throwing some of these new discs.  Bernard is remarkably consistent, including hitting very long (15 meter) putts.  Olivier is a newer player, probably a bit closer to Karen's and my levels.  Martine is Karen's friend who joined the club with us last fall.  She's already hitting quite a few pars in each game and competed in her first tournament this spring.   Pascal wasn't there this past Sunday but he too has an impressive arm.  We've also played with two Sebastiens, one of whom was injured in an accident and hasn't been able to play for several months.  We hope to see him back soon.

The club travels to competitions throughout France and hosts them in Tarnos from time to time.  All of the members are quite good - many are highly rated PDGA players.  There are roughly 17 members.  Even with the bad weather we've had during our current trip we see 8 or more playing on a Sunday.  This trip, we've learned a lot about playing in the rain. 

But the best thing about this group is how friendly and welcoming they are.   And, I have to admit that having 8 people look for a lost disc saves a lot of time and frustration (and I lose a lot of discs).  

As many of you know if you read My Miraculous Wife - Learning French, last week members of the club  invited us to a Landaise lunch where they fed us duck confit, salad Landaise with local white asparagus, grilled chipirons (calamari), magret de canard (duck filets), a fantastic potato dish, great deserts, and of course lots of local wine.  We had an incredible time.  

Disc golf with the Disc Golf Sud Landes club is the most fun we've ever had playing disc golf!  If you find yourself in southwestern France and play disc golf, you won't be disappointed if you show up at Parc de la Baye in Tarnos at 9:30 on a Sunday morning.

My next post will describe our disc golf experience at Le Mourtis and Sauveterre-de-Rouergue.