Access to a storied surfing spot in Southern California has been almost entirely cut off after the roadway leading into the famed San Onofre Surf Beach was washed away during this month's powerful atmospheric storms.
"There is one way in and one way out to Surf Beach — where Old Man's is — and it's a dirt road that drops in from a bluff up above," said David Matuszak, author of the book, San Onofre: Memories of a Legendary Surfing Beach.
The recently destroyed path led to the dirt parking lot that sits directly on the sand of Old Man's. It wasn't uncommon to find cars lining up to wait for the iconic beach to open in the morning, or for a coveted parking spot on good surf days. The lot itself is as legendary as the break's world famous and mellow waves — the place for tailgates and barbecues for the tight-knit surfing community.
For Matuszak, Surf Beach has looked and felt the same ever since a friend took him there more than four decades ago.
"[The surf] was flat that day. We never got out of the truck, but I was just very impressed with the atmosphere — the dirt road, the flora, the fauna, everything was pretty much natural as you would see in the California coast a hundred years before," he said. "The primitive coastline of San Onofre was just very rare even in those days — and it's even more rare today."
A snapshot of San Onofre
Along the miles-long stretch of coastlines that make up San Onofre are multiple surfing breaks, said Matuszak: Trestles, Church, The Point, Four Doors, and the like.
"And then of course Old Man's, which is where it all began back in the 1930s," he said.
That was when the earliest documented instance of surfing took place in San Onofre — in an area that would eventually become better known by its nickname.
"Old Man's is famous for being what we call a slow roller, almost like a Waikiki type of wave," Matuszak said.
A 'wild singles scene' grows up
Despite the moniker, the crowd it first drew were surfers in their teens and 20s. "It was sex, drug, and rock and roll," he said. "A wild singles scene."
After World War II, many of them returned to San Onofre to surf and start families. As this first generation of surfers began to age, the culture changed along with it. Matuszak said that's probably how the beach got the nickname, as these young guns matured into, well, old men.
"On any given day in the summer at San Onofre, you will see three generations of surfers in the same family out in the water," he said. "You'll see grandpa, you'll see dad, and you'll see a son or a daughter in the water. That sort of culture in surfing is rare."
"The other thing that is very unique about San Onofre is what we call the 'Aloha Spirit,'" Matuszak continued. "That same 1960s aloha, that brotherhood of surfing, a place where it's unusual for somebody to drop in on you on a wave."
When a new young surfer would show what Matuszak termed "bad manners" in the water, the old men at San Onofre would "educate them, shall we say" — just as it was done to him when he was new and young and didn't know better.
A disappearing beach
But like so many beaches up and down the state, San Onofre is at risk of disappearing from the effects of high tides, rising sea levels, and monster storms.
"We've lost 70 feet of coastline in the 40 some years that I've been at San Onofre," said Matsuzak, adding that an estimated 40 feet of it were lost in the last decade alone.
While erosion has been eating away at the beach for quite some time, what weakened the roadway to the parking lot was a broken drainage system that was installed in the bluffs above it. Earlier this month, the record-breaking rainfall finished the job.
"[It was] a very severe, high-level rainstorm with winds, and it was just a lot more than that particular area is accustomed to getting in a small amount of time," said Kevin Pearsall, state park superintendent for the Orange Coast District that oversees San Onofre.
"It kind of caught everything off guard," he said, "and a lot of the dynamics of infrastructure for parks, in particular vulnerable areas like San Onofre, are made for 100-year storms, not 100-year storms in two days."
What it takes to get there today
For now, Old Man's is still reachable, but requires diehards to park elsewhere and either walk or e-bike their boards to the water.
"A lot less people are surfing now, and some of us guys are getting a little older, you know, it gets a little more difficult to jump through all the hoops to get down there, but it's still worth it," said Craig Ephraim, a longtime San Clemente resident and a member of the San Onofre Surfing Club who's been surfing at the spot for decades.
What's next
Pearsall said the state's parks department is working with the stakeholders to repair the roadway and hopefully to fix it once and for all. That includes the Navy, because the beach is on military property and is being leased to the state.
I think we're going to have to try to figure out how to save the beaches, and San Onofre will be one of them.
"We don't have an exact timeline because it's all coming in agreement of who's doing what," said Pearsall, adding that he knows the local surfing community can't wait to regain access to Old Man's.
Ultimately, many surfers said there's a bigger issue at play.
"I think we're going to have to try to figure out how to save the beaches, and San Onofre will be one of them," said Scott Cuda, president of the San Onofre Surfing Club. "I would like to think that it would be a priority because it's a gem for the state and it means a lot to a lot of people."
Cuda has been surfing San Onofre for more than two decades. His father-in-law was an original member of the famous surf club, and helped install the volleyball courts at the beach. But the family connections don't stop there.
"It's where my kids have grown up. It's where my family hangs out. It's our special place. There's nothing down the coast like it," Cuda said.
