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Hang Tough, Not 10, Is Today’s Battle Cry on the Waves : Surfing: Two decades ago, it was recreation and a laid-back life style. Now, it’s crowds, cash and lots of conflict.

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TIMES STAFF WRITER

Twenty years ago, the two best surfing spots in southern Orange County were closed to surfers. Trestles, on the northwest tip of Camp Pendleton, was patrolled by Marines. And Salt Creek, in South Laguna, was nearly inaccessible because of a residential development.

Today, both beaches are open, but riding their waves is clearly no less of a battle. The two spots offer at least seven consistent breaks, and when the waves are good, all the takeoff spots resemble a surfing equivalent of gridlock. Competition for waves is fierce and nobody seems to be in a good mood.

In 1970, you faced a long hike to get to those long, powerful rights peeling off the point at Lower Trestles. And if you wiped out and your board washed ashore, you might have to pay a fine to retrieve it from the Marines. There were plenty of days, however, when the only green in sight was glowing iridescently through the faces of the waves, which were shared by a handful of surfers.

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The road to Salt Creek was closed on weekdays back then because of the construction, but if you survived the walk carrying that heavy longboard, you could get the tube ride of your life on one of those hollow lefts and wish it was crowded so more people would have seen it.

Of course, there are some old-timers who insist the good old days ended with the first Gidget movie, and that the invention of the leash (the tether that attaches the board to a surfer’s ankle) was the bane of the sport. The pre-leash days were survival of the fittest in its truest form, old-timers say.

Despite Marines, heavy surfboards and occasional long swims, surfing along Orange County’s southern coast was fun back then.

Now . . . if you want to discuss surfing survival, you better talk to the gladiators of the ‘90s, the lean young men who daily wage war for the waves that break on those same beaches, surfers who have never heard of Gidget and can’t understand why anyone ever surfed without a leash. ‘ ‘It’s such a basic idea, man. How come none of those old dudes thought of it?”

Two decades ago, surfing meant recreation and a laid-back life style. Surfers carved graceful, sweeping turns and reveled in hood-ornament poses on the noses of their boards. Now, it’s power plays and power moves. It’s crowds, conflict and the lure of big-bucks endorsement contracts that go along with a good showing in the contests.

It’s all clash and slash.

“You don’t want to go out here if you can’t deal with stress,” said Brian Ellis, 19, of Huntington Beach as he watched surfers jockeying for position at Lower Trestles. “When it’s big, half the pro surfers in the world are out there.”

Indeed, many of those who thrive in today’s environment--and plenty of those who dream of earning a living in a wet suit--tear through these waves at every opportunity, perfecting their gravity-defying feats and building their triceps while trying to out-paddle each other to catch one more wave.

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T he Cotton’s Point/Upper and Lower Trestles/Church area on the southern tip of San Clemente produces some of California’s finest surfing waves, so the crowds in those areas are understandable.

San Clemente’s popular T Street features a large, triangular-shaped reef that--like Trestles and Salt Creek--produces good waves on a variety of swells. And, in this sport, consistency breeds congestion.

The local surfing population is expanding with every new residential development and that’s the kind of swell surfers hate. These days, if there are waves to ride anywhere from Laguna Beach to San Clemente, there are surfers in the water . . . usually a lot of surfers.

Locals have traditionally been protective of what they consider to be their home breaks, but there is an ever-increasing sense of chauvinism among the regulars. The result is a tendency to surf at the same spot. Surfing safaris are out. Security is in.

Most south county spots are not considered dangerous to visit--some beaches in Oxnard, for instance, are ruled by locals in gangland style--but newcomers are never made to feel welcome and occasionally a tire gets slashed.

Still, the quickest way to become the most unpopular man on the beach is to propose to write an article about local surf spots. Most surfers would rather have you take off in front of them on a perfect 10-footer and then fall down.

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“Look, if I were you, I wouldn’t even mention Brooks, or Thalia, or, God no, not St. Ann’s,” said one veteran Laguna Beach surfer of his favorite breaks. (He didn’t even want his name mentioned).

When it’s pointed out that all three spots--named after Laguna Beach streets that dead-end into the beach--have been recognized breaks for at least 40 years and are hardly secret spots, he tries another tack.

“Really, it wouldn’t be good journalism,” he says. “You’d be doing a disservice to your readers. They’re all tight, little reef breaks with very small takeoff spots. You don’t have much chance of getting many waves if you’re from out of town. If some 16-year-old kid from Huntington (Beach) wants to sample some Laguna waves, then he should go to Oak Street. The crowd’s more cosmopolitan and he’d catch 100 waves to every one he’d get at those other spots.”

There are those, however, who claim they know “secret spots” on the south county coast. Probably, they are capricious beach or reef breaks that aren’t worth the paddle out 90% of the time. The key to these secrets is knowing which swells and which tide conditions will produce good waves.

Killer Capo Reef, the artificial surfing reef that was built with 125,000 cubic yards of rocks dug up in the dredging operation at Dana Point Harbor in 1970, is one example. Located off Capistrano Beach, Killer Capo was the dream of city resident Ron Drummond, but the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, fearing beach erosion, built it farther out than Drummond wanted.

Jet skiers enjoy jumping the waves almost daily, but it takes a good-sized swell--usually at least four to five feet--to break. And that means nearby Doheny, now reduced to knee-slapper status on most days because of the jetty protecting the marina, is probably showing its former form with long rights that can stretch a half-mile from the tip of the harbor to the beach in front of the campgrounds.

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And, of course, most supposedly “secret spots” break only when many of the more consistent breaks are also very good. So surfers tend to check out a spot such as Trestles, see that it’s good, and then jump into the water with a horde of others.

Steve Truelsen has spent much of the past 30 years surfing every break in the south county and claims he can still beat the crowds and find good waves. He lived across the street from Mariposa and 204 in San Clemente for 14 years. He says Mariposa, for example, was really good “only about seven times a year.”

“Last week we had a nice swell and sure, Trestles was smoking,” he said. “There were also a few hundred guys out. A buddy and I went to a secret spot in San Clemente. It was firing, too, but there were never more than five guys in the water.”

Don’t ask him to get too specific about the locale, though.

“I’m not going to give you the you-park-here-and-go-through-this-gate stuff,” he says, smiling. “I might get hanged. Or at the very least, I’d lose a lot of friends.”

So the days of sharing waves--and even knowledge about breaks--are over. Information is almost as hard to come by as the best takeoff position for the premier wave of a set.

“It’s all part of the urbanization of Orange County,” said Eric John, owner of Laguna Surf & Sport. “There’s more pressure on the freeways, it’s harder to get parking spaces and I imagine the wait for a tennis court is longer, too.

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“Hell, the locals around here aren’t very nice to each other. It’s just a sign of the times. All anyone is concerned with is ‘me and my nuclear family.’ It’s an us-against-the-world mentality out there.”

One surfing beach, however, retains its heritage. San Onofre, now a state park and designated surfing beach, is a stretch of sand and rocks south of the Orange County line that has been a surfing haven for more than 50 years.

One of the three breaks there--sometimes called The Point--is also known as Mecca. It’s an appropriate name because surfers have been coming here to worship the waves and an ocean-oriented way of life since the ‘30s.

The waves at San Onofre are slower and less powerful than their high-performance neighbors a mile up the beach at Trestles, but the hospitality factor is of tidal-wave proportions compared to everywhere else.

There’s a hand-painted sign on the bike path that leads to Trestles that reads: “No longboarders beyond this point.” At San Onofre, they should have a sign that says: “Longboarders welcome, shortboarders, too. But leave your bad attitude in the car.”

“I do most of my surfing at the Lifeguard Headquarters,” said Rich Chew, a longtime professional surfer who is a lifeguard in San Clemente. He still competes in both longboard and shortboard contests. “Most contests are in beach-break settings that don’t have the predictability of a point break,” Chew said. “If your reflexes are set for a beach break, you can handle any point break.

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“If I have the time, I love Lowers, but San Onofre still has the best atmosphere. The waves aren’t as good, but it’s a great way to spend a day. It’s soul surfing.”

Next Thursday: Surfing in the north county.

SOUTH COUNTY SURF SPOTS Laguna Beach

El Morro, sometimes called Elevator Point, Rock Pile and Oak Street are the least-consistent, and therefore most-accessible spots in northern Laguna. Brooks, St. Ann’s and Thalia, all at the end of the streets for which they are named, are reef breaks that can produce good waves, especially on south swells. Trouble is, the takeoff spot is small at each break and the locals are usually piled pretty high on that spot. Salt Creek Beach Park provides access to one of the fastest, hollowest waves in South Orange County. Locals divide the breaks into three takeoff spots--Gravels, Middles and The Point--and all can be good on south, southwest and west swells. Dana Point

Doheny, and neighbor Boneyard, were once known as “Killer Dana” but the development of the marina blocked the big surf. Now, it’s knee-high most of the time and mostly ridden by the junior-high set and their fathers, but a big south swell can still produce some of the longest rides in the county. Dana Strands is a typically capricious beach break that also can be dangerous at low tide because of submerged rocks.

Capistrano Beach

Hole in the Wall, Beach Road and Poche are fickle beach breaks but a combination of the right swell direction, size and tide can make for good waves with usually uncrowded conditions. Killer Capo Reef, located about 3,000 feet offshore from Beach Road, was created with the rocks dredged from Dana Point Harbor. It only breaks on large swells.

San Clemente

204, Mariposa and Lifeguard Headquarters, north of the San Clemente Pier, are the kinds of beach breaks that can go from pretty good to really bad in a matter of hours. Catching them at the right time is the key. ‘T’ Street, named after nearby Trafalgar Lane but located at the base of Esplanade, is a very popular (i.e. crowded) spot that breaks both ways off a triangular-shaped reef. Like many reef breaks, competition for waves is often intense. Lost Winds and Riviera are as close to “secret spots” as you can get in Orange County, but don’t expect to find perfectly-shaped point breaks ... that’s why they’re secret.

San Onofre

Cotton’s Point and especially Upper and Lower Trestles are considered among the finest point breaks in California. All three produce consistently rideable waves the year-round, breaking on a variety of swell directions. A strong, clean south swell will bring out the surfing magazine photographers and a veritable Who’s Who of surfing talent. Despite the long hike down the bike trial off Cristianitos Road, these are among the most heavily surfed breaks in the county. Church is usually not as big as Trestles, but still is a quality point break, especially during west swells. Mecca, Old Man’s and Dog Patch are the three breaks at San Onofre Surfing Beach, most popular with long boarders and beginners. The waves are a bit mushier than the ones at Trestles, but the people in the water are a lot less aggressive.

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