Monday, August 25, 2008

HALLOWED

Dear Surf Gods,

Thank you for serving up a bacchanal of hollow waves on Saturday morning. We checked the beach above first, noticed a growing crowd, and moved along. The next location was about twice as big and breaking twice as far out. As we paddled out into the glassy beachbreak, joining a friendly group of five guys, we counted our blessings.

The swell continued to build and clean up, and we joined in on the feast. I distinctively remember dropping into a perfect left and hearing OS yell, "PULL IN!"

I didn't...

But yay, the thought did cross mind that Oregon never gets waves like this, as I locked into the pocket, moving faster than I ever had on my round pintail. Guys were getting shacked. I threw myself over the ledge on some "head-and-a-half" rights. Can I get a witness?

I guess you could say it was a good day.

Amen.

6 comments:

Rider said...

"...joining a friendly group of five guys, we counted our blessings...."

Five guys on a peak and you paddle on them?

Sweet!

Foulweather... said...

Things have certainly been shaping up. Lots of waves to go around recently.

Chum said...

Rider, so nice to know you're still following along... except that I didn't say there was only one peak.

It was pretty spread out, actually. And as I mentioned, everybody got their share of waves. No bad vibes. You know, that whole "aloha" thing?

That kind of was my point...

;)

rye said...

yo chum. good day for sure. always fun being in the water with you and OS. how lucky are we. lets hope for more.

cheers

LittleLordFuckpants said...

Bee-Oh-Oh-Aitch-Oh-Oh for poor Rider:

Coming up short...
As with anything...
So bored and uninspired.
Today, like all of these passing days lately...
Nothing.
My life has been reeled in and is now limited to child care and not much else.
I go no where. I do very little.
Why?
Because a free spirit must be free to seek out new experiences, new scenery and new friends.
To boldly go where I want to go.
Oh no...Stella calls me again.
The other day, I had heard 'poppa' or "daddy" fifty seven times by 5 pm.
You know what?
What about me?

There is no longer a me.
Stella just said..."I am waiting for my mom..."
I have just made her spaghetti, gave her blueberries, took her for a bike ride and changed her shirt.
In the last hour.
Yet thats what I hear.

You know what?
What about me?

I am stuck in this place.
No culture.
No surf for weeks at a time.
And its cold.
Every fucking day.
Cold.
Summer is half over and I can count the days of sun on two hands and one foot.
I am wearing a sweater on July 14th.

No music to make except by myself.

What the fuck.

I quit smoking pot.
And now I see what this life is.
Not bad when you are stoned.
But when you are not?
It simply is just passing the days.
There is nothing to seize upon.
So there is that.

There is nothing I can reach out and do because its all an excuse.

I hate this place I am in.
I always will.

"Poppa?"
What now Stella?

Jason said...

TOO BAD THE SURF WAS'NT LIKE THAT WHEN I WAS OUT THERE. WHEN ARE YOU GUYS COMING DOWN FOR A MEX TRIP