If you're happy and you know it, ride the froth

With a depleted burger posse (Joeleee is junketing/working-like-a-bastard around Europe, Serhio is watching the skies in Wadonga and Zombie is laid up with a hangover masquerading as a flu) it is up to Dub and I to make the pilgrimage westside. The guy at the fruit and veg shop informs us that we missed the 10ft barrels at Winki a few days earlier (oh darn…not) and good luck finding a wave. A howling offshore is keeping things flat but with a huge pack of hopefuls at Torquay and only the occasional set to all compete/fight for, it's major head trauma on a stick. Round the corner at Jan Juc it's a different story, the long length of beach has spread everyone out and there is more size in the swell so in we go. There's still a big wait between sets but when they do roll in they're plenty big enough. Dub tames the biggest dumper of the day which arches over and seemingly mashes him before he bursts forth from the froth victorious. I manage a couple of my 'ph' fattest carves ever and we both retire from the water as happy campers. Swell café near the previously blogged Bird Rock delivers two novel chicken burgers. Textured home made patty, lots of fresh salad and toasted turkish bun, all presented in a package so tall that only a knife and fork will do the job, conclusion? That's a tasty burger! What weekends were made for…

Lockie