Last Wednesday, I brought my board when I met Jackie at the beach–mostly because I could; not necessarily because I expected the surf to be any good. The Park has decided to let us surf anywhere that is not a designated swimming area. Finally. This means that if you happen to have a day free of work or other obligations, you don’t have to rise with the sun to get in a decent session before the lifeguards kick your ass down to the ever-migrating surf beach. Since the regulation relaxation, I’ve noticed a lot more surfers in the water. Lured out by facility, I guess. Getting up super early/dropping by post-work does require some additional effort, which I can see being a deterrent–especially when the afternoon swell is often killed by the wind and the tides only occasionally ally themselves with your free time.
Evidently, no one felt the need to place bets on whether Evan (that was his name, right?) was a surfer or not. I’ll just tell you that he… was… not. This experiment has gone poorly indeed. I have felt fewer surfer vibes since I decided to do this ridiculous thing than ever before, which is funny since the waves have been sort of massive lately.
Newly bionic Rob Kelly is beachridden–sorry, Rob–but on the bright side, he had some free time to manufacture this epic video:
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