Leaning heavy on the end of the week
Early Saturday afternoon, I was getting a bite to eat at Eggroll, when Brian called me looking for motivation to catch a big swell that found its way to the North Shore. I explained that I couldn't make it since I was hosting a Halloween party that night. Twenty minutes later I was on my way to Hampton Beach. Brian, regrettably decided not to go, so I called my brother up, and he agreed to meet me on the water.
I parked at the wall near 13th street, suited up, and proceeded to jog up and down the area looking for Chris. There were hundreds of faceless, neoprene-clad bodies peppering the water. I felt like I was browsing a particularly difficult page of a Where's Waldo book. At long last, I caught him and we paddled out on a break that wasn't too crowded.
Light offshore winds were holding the waves up pretty well, so we didn't have to wait much for the right one. Time and time again I paddled out, sat up, quickly spotted a wave rolling in, and set to chasing it down. At one point, Chris and I paddled on the same wave, Chris dropping in on a steep section that I thought sure would pitch him over. I took the ride left and lost sight of him until I started paddling back. He was getting back on his board way down by the shore with a shit-eating grin on his face. Later he told me that was his best wave yet. I love that I know this stellar feeling.
Chris left after about an hour of surfing to meet up with Leah. I stayed for 2 or 3 more hours until sunset when the sky turned all shades of pink and purple and rays shot out from behind the clouds like alien tractor beams. There was even a brief sun shower that came out of the nearly clear skies above, the highlight of my evening.
The more I surf the more I learn. There is such an intricate and subtle science between body, board, and water... a science that I'd rather think of as an art. At the end of the day, if the simple joy of surfing isn't enough to justify itself, then perhaps it's the new perspective I gain from which I can examine other interactions that I encounter, the subtle science of everything.
I parked at the wall near 13th street, suited up, and proceeded to jog up and down the area looking for Chris. There were hundreds of faceless, neoprene-clad bodies peppering the water. I felt like I was browsing a particularly difficult page of a Where's Waldo book. At long last, I caught him and we paddled out on a break that wasn't too crowded.
Light offshore winds were holding the waves up pretty well, so we didn't have to wait much for the right one. Time and time again I paddled out, sat up, quickly spotted a wave rolling in, and set to chasing it down. At one point, Chris and I paddled on the same wave, Chris dropping in on a steep section that I thought sure would pitch him over. I took the ride left and lost sight of him until I started paddling back. He was getting back on his board way down by the shore with a shit-eating grin on his face. Later he told me that was his best wave yet. I love that I know this stellar feeling.
Chris left after about an hour of surfing to meet up with Leah. I stayed for 2 or 3 more hours until sunset when the sky turned all shades of pink and purple and rays shot out from behind the clouds like alien tractor beams. There was even a brief sun shower that came out of the nearly clear skies above, the highlight of my evening.
The more I surf the more I learn. There is such an intricate and subtle science between body, board, and water... a science that I'd rather think of as an art. At the end of the day, if the simple joy of surfing isn't enough to justify itself, then perhaps it's the new perspective I gain from which I can examine other interactions that I encounter, the subtle science of everything.