The Ocean is My Home and I Will Go: Be Surf

Went out with Maddie to LS yesterday just north of Rs. Low wind, sun and temps in the high 30s made it a bluebird day for winter surf. We hit it at mid tide and saw someone getting fun, hang 10 rides on a longboard as we were suiting up.

We kept finding ourselves in a strange pocket and we had a fair number of closeouts but the waves were fun and perfect size, 2-3, and consistent.

I can’t imagine not surfing through the whole year. Winter surfing can be painful and getting out of your wetsuit after is absolutely a tragic experience, but the last couple weeks the waves have been consistently FUN, and I can’t imagine missing them. Not only that, I just can’t imagine surfing being available to me, and me not going. I can’t imagine not being tethered to that lifeline. It’s just my sacred space. It’s where I get to see my friends, it’s where I get to go and be quiet on other days, it’s where I get to go and just be. There are no expectations of me, no roles I’m playing, no emails to answer, no promotion of business to do. There’s just me on a board in the water, willing a wave to come my way. it’s simple, it’s joyful, it fills my heart.

So ya. Turtle rolling and having 38 degree water massage my face is not a comfortable feeling. Struggling to wiggle out of my wet suit while the wind is licking my bare legs is also a tragicomical experience. But the ocean is my Home and I will go.

You Don't Know Unless You Go (or, Sometimes You Get Lucky): Be Surf

I actually love small days. Clean, 1-3 feet days are truly my favorite conditions. I love a big day, I love to push it just a bit—toe the line—but I really really love small days.

The forecast suggested going later in the day today was the thing to do but I got overcome with excitement and couldn’t not go this morning. Ten minutes later, I found myself driving north, Billie Eilish on Spotify. My wetsuit was still wet as were my booties because we haven’t set up “the most amazing Christmas present in the entire Universe” that Nick made for me (a mits/booties/Wet Sox custom-made rack *he made it*), and I knew it would be cold but I didn’t care!

I got so excited passing Stage Neck—if you peek down, you can size up the waves, and we had lines. I knew it would be small and clean—and likely very quiet given these are conditions a lot of people won’t get out of bed for.

I parked, suited up, ran to the shore, where a little grom was paddling over to the spot I was running towards. It was glassy and super low wind when I got there but within a half hour or so, the wind picked up. We still had waves rockin’ through but two hours in, they were starting to crumble with the high wind. Freezing and losing mobility in my feet and hands, I got out a couple hours in but was stoked because the wind was strong all day long, even through when it was supposed to drop off. I was so happy I had gone out in the AM, so happy the Wave Jiminy Cricket had whispered in my ear, filled me with stoke and sent me up north.

You can (and I do) look at surf reports all day but to really know you just have to go, and sometimes you get lucky. Sometimes the forecast is off and so whatever lightning struck you to go early or later, was some sort of magical divining rod giving you the intergalactic cosmic wave report. And the apps love to say 1-2 feet but there are always bigger sets that roll through if you’re patient and willing. Happy happy day.