There is nothing quite like the feeling of surfing. The surge of adrenaline as the ocean heaves you forward, the thrill of rushing water beneath your feet, the ecstasy of speed.
But it is not the feeling of surfing itself that keeps me coming back for more.
It is the lack of it.
It’s the elusiveness of it that captures me. The fact that I cannot control the conditions and, like every other creature on this planet, must surrender to nature’s way and timing. And so every morning the first thing I do is check the wind (ask my wife, it drives her crazy!). I look at swell charts, text my surfing buddies, and dream of that perfect wave. All the time constantly aware of and sensitive to the elements – to the rhythms and cycles of the earth.
If it were perfect conditions every day I think I would…
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