Tuesday, March 11, 2008
So, you imagine yourself as something. Father. Husband. Teacher. Surfer. More specifically, a Surfer who prefers a specific style of board, wave, wind, water, coast, crowd. Confession. This mat riding thing is going a little haywire.
Tomorrow, for the first time in two years, I have the opportunity to ride any wave I want in the middle of the day. That means small crowds. That means I'll probably head to one of the area's usually overcrowded quality reef/point waves. Question: what do I throw in the car tomorrow morning?
Wetsuit. Wax. Mat! Fish. Fins.
It used to be I mind surfed my favorite surfboards across swell lines. More and more I find myself imagining the fall line of a mat on a yet unbroken peak, rolling towards it's cascading climax. To be sure, my last several sessions have taken the form of most in the past- Surfboard for an hour and change, Mat for a bit, bodysurf a few, boogie if the barrels and blackball are cooperating. A bit schizophrenic, I know. But more and more the slow leak of ugly, black bag, prone and projectile-like stoke has been dripping into my surfing thoughts. Not a bad thing. Just a thing.