Sunday, May 4, 2008
Swell has arrived and plans in place. Zip, zoom, dash. A gem of a right point is doing its thing. I, through the kindness of strangers, am on it. On a weekend devoted to inflatable infatuation, this is a treat.
Three hours into the session, an hour since I paddled North, over to catch a few shoreline zippers all by myself- perfect for full mat planing- I encounter one of the many who wonder. "Looks like you've had a few good ones." "Yep." "What's that you're riding? Is that like a Greenough thing?" "kind of..." Explanation is cursory for there are waves to be ridden and I, a relative novice, am learning with each razor edged speed run. "That's really cool." "Thanks."
I paddle back to the main peak to catch the fatter, but longer point waves. The crowd has grown and there's one grumbler. "You're on the wrong equipment." "Oh..." "You could ride that anywhere." "Yep, but this is a good mat wave." "Uhhum."
I'm not going to say I was doing the capabilities of the mat complete justice. I was having f u n. I was catching plenty of waves. I was getting some fun speedy lines going. I wasn't snaking anyone. I can understand a little wave lust, but I probably didn't need an op-ed about the right type of equipment to ride. The truth is obvious. Those who need to belong to a club to validate their experience are only human, but to air, yes to ride on air, that is divine. Ha.
The Mat Meet Was Fun! We Scored!