======== Newsgroups: alt.surfing Subject: The D.J.Files...bits of a surfing live #6 Truckin' - djtruck.6 [1/1] From: dp025@seqeb.gov.au (D.Pritchard...Bear) Date: 3 Oct 1996 23:07:20 GMT Disclaimer: The following story is true...ish, but the places, people and other props are all cardboard :-) The D.J.Files #6 More 70s nostalgia... "Come on, come on, you bastards must think I've got all day!" Says D.J. to the others, but does so with a wide grin. _And_ they know what his time- keeping is like. 3 guys have the day off and have met at D.J.'s to go on one of his famous round-Wales-in-a-day goods delivery and wave-hunting expeditions. It's 7:00 and Bear, Krakatoa and The Feet are piling their wetties and boards into the truck along with cans of whatever and containers of wossname. All aboard, engine on. Everyone takes a deep breath ( in the absence of any vallium ) and D.J. pops the clutch and the truck leaps forward at probably a couple of 'G's In real time probably only a couple of hours has elapsed, but the 3 passengers have aged considerably as the truck has assaulted the bitumen, defied Newtonian (and civic) Law and caused assorted vehicular and pedestrian mayhem before they've made 3 deliveries and pulled up at a surfable beach. Surfable being a reasonable description. It's not one of your classic all-time sessions, but hey, there are shoulder-high, if slightly sloppy waves _and_ none of the guys back at the home breaks are getting _any_ ! Mind you, adrenalin excess from D.J.'s driving has em "pumped up, man" and they hit the spot like unleashed surf dogs. Wham! Bang!...never-bloody- mind-the-thank-you, ma'am! Off, over, thru and smack-on the lip. Take that! As usual, D.J. is the smooth-surfing stand-out; Krakatoa stills surfs his 7'6" as tho it was a longboard, turn from the back and walk-up trim; The Feet has his number 12's at each end of his shorter-than-he-is 6'er, so he just alternates his weight foot-to-foot,depending on what he's up to; Bear surfs mostly from the one, optimum spot on the board, tho he's occasionally seen to slide a foot forward and/or grab a rail. They all basically assault the waves as tho they were punishing them for the frenetic driving earlier. Most people who travel with D.J. get a stomach problem: it aches thru laughing and this day was no exception. But nothing's perfect and on the trip back it starts to drizzle. A stop at a transport 'caff' for bacon'n' eggs and a huge mug o'tea (I think someone missed out on the regulation 'fag ash' on the egg white, but maybe it's just the trix of time on an ol' man's memory) and by the time they're back at D.J.'s it's raining quite heavily. He just pulls up, says "You can get your own gear out eh?" and disappears into the house. Oh great, thanx, they chorus. And just to show they mean it, they roll the truck down the road and leave it 2 streets away :-)