 |
| "You need the highs and lows, otherwise it's flat...kinda feels like you're not really doin' anything." -J.Elway Far from flat. Chest plus nor'east swell, 47th street lineup. 10/2/2016 |
"The beautiful violence of breaking waves. It is a constant. In small waves and
weaker waves, it's mild, unthreatening, under control. It's just the great ocean
engine that propels us and allows us to play. That mood changes as the waves
get more powerful. Surfers call power "juice," and the juice becomes, in serious
waves, the critical element, the essence of what we are out there to find, to
test ourselves with- to recklessly engage or cravenly avoid."
-William Finnegan, Barbarian Days
It hadn't seemed like I'd get get out at all. This trip already looking like the last chance I'd have for the year. But here I was; Sunday morning about 8:30 am. Semi-clean waves chest to neck high. An occasional head here and there. Little bump, but the recent swirling nor'easter winds had finally lightened up to allow a bit of a lineup at the 47th Street break. Like to say I was stoked; watching the left breaking sets roll in two and three at a time while unwrapping the leash from the T&C and securing it to my ankle. The 7'6" Town & Country was not my board of choice, but it's what I had. Paddling out into the lineup I felt good about finally getting an opportunity to nail down a few rides before settling back into a long, potentially very cold Mid-West winter. But, I was fighting an uneasiness I just couldn't shake. Hadn't been able to surf since May. The swell was to my backside... weak even when I'm surfing regularly. I'd found I'd pulled the wrong board from storage upon arrival at the beach. And, I was on a clock. The joy to be back in the lineup. The agony of self imposed pressure. Recipe for a shit session.
 |
| Nor'easter sparring match, the Atlantic in chaos. 47th Street 9/30/2016. |
The start of the weekend return trip across The Bay gave premonition to the state of mind to come. Tropical Storm Lisa veered off in the middle of the Atlantic while at the same time Cat 3 Hurricane Matthew was coming up from the south. The combination of the two pulled in a stalled Northeast storm over the central Right Coast and dumped bookoo buckets of rain on the Shore causing flooding, sinkholes, closings. Thursday, we literally drove into the airport parking with a flat tire (driving 4 slow blocks prior), a delayed flight and slowed traffic created juggling within our schedule, arriving in the evening to water under the house still for sale (dishonest, shithead buyers-sore spot? Yes!). Friday, water from nearly a weeks worth of rain, pumped out from under, all day into the evening.
 |
| Snow Hill Road flooding. |
 |
| 31514 Spearin Road |
 |
| Pocomoke River profusion. 9/30/2016 |
Rain, high winds, and mist most of the day ixnayed any PM surf. Saturday, our day with our Granddaughter...big plans vastly modified due to the continued nastiness of the weather. Sunday, a clearing.
 |
| Sunday clearing, 47th Street 10/2/2016 |
Surfer and writer Bill Finnegan said it best, "defeats, humiliations- craven avoidance- burn into memory so much more deeply, at least for me, than their opposites." That is how Sunday's session felt to me. I was exited to be out there. And at the same time, I felt very anxious. Not scared. Hesitant. It was not overly big, or rough. But I tired more easily than usual. The T&C does not float as well as my 7'4" Shell...the board I preferred in these conditions. Took a bit outta me to get into the lineup. I was more easily winded. Did not relish the thought of wiping out and having to fight back into position. For the first time since I had moved to the Midwest I could tell I hadn't been surfing for a while, and I could feel the burn. Seemed to spend to much time backing off from the frontsides that wouldn't materialize and avoiding most left-handers. I only managed a couple of kook rides, the last of which was a rush job...the disintegrating wall of a late sloppy left grabbed my tail and with too much weight on my rear foot I fell backwards into the wash. The wind had picked up. The lineup emptied out. More mush now that earlier. I drifted in knowing it may be many months before I get back in the Atlantic O again. But I was happy to have gotten out. Happy to have returned to the Shore. Happy to have spent time with friends. Happy to have seen my Granddaughter for her 2nd birthday. And this afternoon we would be having dinner and spending the evening with my brothers and their families. Let the joy overcome the agony.
Deschutes Brewery offers their own brand of liquid assistance to overcome, Hopzeit Autumn IPA, a hoppy take on the traditional German Marzen. I was out looking for the next best, and I snagged this as soon as I laid eyes on it. Poured a cloudy reddish-amber with a finger plus, foamy, khaki head. Nice carbonation and tight lacing. Aromas of toasted bread and herbal citrus which one might think would clash. But the tastes of the two together were complementary with the strong roasty malts melding well with the 60 IBUs of earthy grapefruit hop goodness. At 7% ABV, a nice warmer for the now cooler evenings. I rated Hopzeit an A-.
 |
"Dinosaurs had no beer. How did
that work out?" -Bar sign
|
 |
The Big 2! Happy Birthday Little Girl! -Shannon Blythe pic
|
No comments:
Post a Comment