I swear, sometimes I have to laugh at my luck. I paddled out this morning after getting a late start and got pretty much skunked. I was out in the water for about 30 minutes, caught one wave, but pulled out when I saw a longboarder had already taken it. Then, I caught a shorebreaker and got pitched when I stalled too long. The water was so wonderfully warm though, and had the air not been so strangely chilly this morning, I would have loved to have paddled out sans wetsuit and just in a bikini.
Tonight, I went mountain biking after work and had a blast with good company and a fun trail. I decided today to take the different path, following the guys, and did a hike-a-bike up to the ridge to the singletrack (which ended up being fun), where I promptly got stung by three different bees all at once. Having never been stung before in my life, it was quite an experience to have three at the same time, and I think everyone in the park could hear me yelling out expletives as I tried to shake the bees off of me. Pure comedy! Stung once on the back of my right hand, and twice on my left leg, right up close and personal to my... well, you know.
What can I say, though? That's life, and you can only laugh and enjoy it for what it is. Bee stings and all.
(Glad to know I'm not allergic to bee stings. I had no clue before today. That would've sucked.)
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
After a great day, I came home to find everything in disarray. Things strewn about, papers thrown here and there, and items smashed, as if a tornado had hit. I saw angry notes written furiously in red ink, filled with words of hate and spite. I'm so used to it, but naturally, my body and my mind seized up, and I regressed into the young girl whose earliest memory is that of being smacked across the head. Nothing in this house but fear and pain and memories of sorrow.
I just think of the choices that have been made by many different people, and my need to escape this place. Maybe not so much a need to escape, but more of a need to find.
All I can wonder is, "Really?"
I just think of the choices that have been made by many different people, and my need to escape this place. Maybe not so much a need to escape, but more of a need to find.
All I can wonder is, "Really?"
Saturday, July 25, 2009
I Want to Break Free
Nature is always lovely, invincible, glad,
Whatever is done and suffered by her creatures.
All scars she heals,
Whether in rocks or water or sky or hearts.
John Muir
With the waves and the crowds out of control, and after having heard about the death at Wedge, I opted out of going for a surf this morning. I stopped by HB last night and had to navigate through hordes of people everywhere, so much so that even from PCH I had a difficult time getting a clear view of the ocean. It makes me long for September to roll around, when it starts to quiet down and I can spend early mornings at the beach with only a few others to share it with.
Instead, I joined N & N for a ride this morning, and we did a loop I've always wanted to try: Whiting to Santiago Truck Trail to the Luge. I'd always been nervous about the Luge since people have made it sound difficult and frightening, but with my downhill/singletrack/technical skills progressing, I thought it would be a nice challenge. Whiting was fun, as usual, although climbing up Mustard always tricks me; I assume it's shorter and a more subtle grade than it actually is, and end up panting by the time I reach Four Corners. It also seems as though the groups of Asians were out en masse, as we passed by party after party of hiking Asians. (I can always distinguish which ones are the Korean groups, and feel a connection when I pass them by!)
Santiago Truck Trail was a good, challenging climb, as I'd never done it before. The paved Modjeska grade was a pain to climb, and I was good and hankered by the time I hit The Wall, hence, the name, I guess. But I pushed along, as usual, and N decided to move on to Old Camp, so the other N and I hit the Flag. We signed our names in the Warriors Society registry book, and shared a beer with other fellow friendly riders. Seeing all the Felt bikes out on the trails piqued my interest a little more for them. As my bike is having more and more issues that are beyond my paltry knowledge, and as I feel like I'm outgrowing it a bit, I'd love to try out some new rides. But you know, the want list is long; the need list, not so much.
So, after having climbed and sweated my way up to the Flag, N and I were ready to go down the Luge. I don't know when I started enjoying descents more than climbs, but I absolutely loved the Luge and had a blast. It's been a little over a year since I had my first ride, but I definitely notice a big jump in comfort on downhills, singletracks, and technical bits. I hesitate to even call the Luge any of those three, except maybe a singletrack. But I found myself loving the little rolls, drops, and "swooshy" feel of the flowy trail, as well as clearing sections I used to come to a grinding stop at and walk. I even uttered the words, "I wish it were longer! I wish someone would just shuttle me up over and over so I can ride down it all day!" Now only to build up to something stronger.
The quote up above is one by John Muir that was written into the signature book up by the Flag. It was placed up there after the November fires of last year, and sitting there reading that quote and looking around me at the impeccable beauty of Nature made my eyes mist a bit. I feel as though Nature has been my one saving grace in my life, and that all chaos I've felt over my few (but many) years has been tempered by her. Mother Nature has, in many ways, been a motherly figure to me: chiding me when I become too bold, lifting my spirits up when I feel defeated, teaching me lessons about life and love and beauty, providing a cathartic release for pain and sorrow when I have no other outlet, and giving me the most joy and serenity that I could ever desire.
:)
Whatever is done and suffered by her creatures.
All scars she heals,
Whether in rocks or water or sky or hearts.
John Muir
With the waves and the crowds out of control, and after having heard about the death at Wedge, I opted out of going for a surf this morning. I stopped by HB last night and had to navigate through hordes of people everywhere, so much so that even from PCH I had a difficult time getting a clear view of the ocean. It makes me long for September to roll around, when it starts to quiet down and I can spend early mornings at the beach with only a few others to share it with.
Instead, I joined N & N for a ride this morning, and we did a loop I've always wanted to try: Whiting to Santiago Truck Trail to the Luge. I'd always been nervous about the Luge since people have made it sound difficult and frightening, but with my downhill/singletrack/technical skills progressing, I thought it would be a nice challenge. Whiting was fun, as usual, although climbing up Mustard always tricks me; I assume it's shorter and a more subtle grade than it actually is, and end up panting by the time I reach Four Corners. It also seems as though the groups of Asians were out en masse, as we passed by party after party of hiking Asians. (I can always distinguish which ones are the Korean groups, and feel a connection when I pass them by!)
Santiago Truck Trail was a good, challenging climb, as I'd never done it before. The paved Modjeska grade was a pain to climb, and I was good and hankered by the time I hit The Wall, hence, the name, I guess. But I pushed along, as usual, and N decided to move on to Old Camp, so the other N and I hit the Flag. We signed our names in the Warriors Society registry book, and shared a beer with other fellow friendly riders. Seeing all the Felt bikes out on the trails piqued my interest a little more for them. As my bike is having more and more issues that are beyond my paltry knowledge, and as I feel like I'm outgrowing it a bit, I'd love to try out some new rides. But you know, the want list is long; the need list, not so much.
So, after having climbed and sweated my way up to the Flag, N and I were ready to go down the Luge. I don't know when I started enjoying descents more than climbs, but I absolutely loved the Luge and had a blast. It's been a little over a year since I had my first ride, but I definitely notice a big jump in comfort on downhills, singletracks, and technical bits. I hesitate to even call the Luge any of those three, except maybe a singletrack. But I found myself loving the little rolls, drops, and "swooshy" feel of the flowy trail, as well as clearing sections I used to come to a grinding stop at and walk. I even uttered the words, "I wish it were longer! I wish someone would just shuttle me up over and over so I can ride down it all day!" Now only to build up to something stronger.
The quote up above is one by John Muir that was written into the signature book up by the Flag. It was placed up there after the November fires of last year, and sitting there reading that quote and looking around me at the impeccable beauty of Nature made my eyes mist a bit. I feel as though Nature has been my one saving grace in my life, and that all chaos I've felt over my few (but many) years has been tempered by her. Mother Nature has, in many ways, been a motherly figure to me: chiding me when I become too bold, lifting my spirits up when I feel defeated, teaching me lessons about life and love and beauty, providing a cathartic release for pain and sorrow when I have no other outlet, and giving me the most joy and serenity that I could ever desire.
:)
Friday, July 24, 2009
Antsy
Friday morning, sitting in a windowless office lit up with fluorescent lights. A globe on the corner of my desk, my surfboard resting against the file cabinets, and The Who for background music.
It's beautiful outside, and I feel almost angry that lives get wasted in the confines of four walls. Or that my life gets wasted in the confines of my four walls, bleach white and housing a computer that I stare at all day. I leave work with migraines and eye strain, feeling more and more like I'm wasting my time for a paycheck.
I'm told I should be thankful I have a job, and on a certain level, I am, I suppose. But I don't know how many people would be thankful for a job they really dislike. Suck it up and be thankful anyway.
Waves outside, sunlight and warmth, crowds too, but there are always the quiet spots where nobody goes.
Went for a surf yesterday morning and it was packed already with people trying to get in on the swell. Drove by the ocean after work looking at the waves, but didn't even bother paddling out, as it was crowded and sloppy. Ended up supporting the golden state of California by buying a parks pass and think I will try for a couple of trips down south this weekend. Haven't been in a tent in a while, and it's time to put mine to good use.
A paycheck needed to do what you want, but a paycheck keeping you from doing what you want.
All typed while I'm sitting in this blindingly white office.
And B.F. proceeds to IM me while waiting in line for SanO. Great.
It's beautiful outside, and I feel almost angry that lives get wasted in the confines of four walls. Or that my life gets wasted in the confines of my four walls, bleach white and housing a computer that I stare at all day. I leave work with migraines and eye strain, feeling more and more like I'm wasting my time for a paycheck.
I'm told I should be thankful I have a job, and on a certain level, I am, I suppose. But I don't know how many people would be thankful for a job they really dislike. Suck it up and be thankful anyway.
Waves outside, sunlight and warmth, crowds too, but there are always the quiet spots where nobody goes.
Went for a surf yesterday morning and it was packed already with people trying to get in on the swell. Drove by the ocean after work looking at the waves, but didn't even bother paddling out, as it was crowded and sloppy. Ended up supporting the golden state of California by buying a parks pass and think I will try for a couple of trips down south this weekend. Haven't been in a tent in a while, and it's time to put mine to good use.
A paycheck needed to do what you want, but a paycheck keeping you from doing what you want.
All typed while I'm sitting in this blindingly white office.
And B.F. proceeds to IM me while waiting in line for SanO. Great.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Boys of Summer
A and I had a discussion about how people who read novels are more likely to be messed up in the head. I don't know how true that is, but I thought about it for a second and realized that I live a lot of my life out as if it were a novel.
Some people have internal soundtracks, but I have an internal narrator who is constantly reflecting on events, people, experiences, and lessons and writing up chapters. I have days when I will literally piece words together into sentences and paragraphs, trying to imagine how I would write about a specific piece of my life. Sometimes I feel like I'm playing Will Ferrell in "Stranger Than Fiction." If only my internal narrator was as sophisticated as Emma Thompson.
I typically hate when there is any film adaptation of a novel I've read and enjoyed. Take, for instance, "The Lovely Bones," which is supposed to come out soon. I loved that novel so much and it almost pains me to see a film version coming out of it. I hate seeing the characters (their looks, mannerisms, voices, etc.) defined for me, the landscape and setting physically drawn out, and so on. (I think one of my favorite things about reading is the ability to use your imagination in the process.)
I wrote an entry about a novel I recently read called "The Road," and ended up privatizing it, but I found out there's a film adaptation of that book coming out soon. That novel had me so emotionally drained and terrified in ways that only one movie has made me feel. Will that translate over to the big screen? Will seeing the film, and it possibly dulling the emotions the novel brought out in me, change how I approach its written counterpart?
If my internally narrated life story were to be put onto the big screen, who would play me? Maybe I'll get Grace Park from Battlestar Galactica to play me. Or Lucy Liu, she's hot.
Some people have internal soundtracks, but I have an internal narrator who is constantly reflecting on events, people, experiences, and lessons and writing up chapters. I have days when I will literally piece words together into sentences and paragraphs, trying to imagine how I would write about a specific piece of my life. Sometimes I feel like I'm playing Will Ferrell in "Stranger Than Fiction." If only my internal narrator was as sophisticated as Emma Thompson.
I typically hate when there is any film adaptation of a novel I've read and enjoyed. Take, for instance, "The Lovely Bones," which is supposed to come out soon. I loved that novel so much and it almost pains me to see a film version coming out of it. I hate seeing the characters (their looks, mannerisms, voices, etc.) defined for me, the landscape and setting physically drawn out, and so on. (I think one of my favorite things about reading is the ability to use your imagination in the process.)
I wrote an entry about a novel I recently read called "The Road," and ended up privatizing it, but I found out there's a film adaptation of that book coming out soon. That novel had me so emotionally drained and terrified in ways that only one movie has made me feel. Will that translate over to the big screen? Will seeing the film, and it possibly dulling the emotions the novel brought out in me, change how I approach its written counterpart?
If my internally narrated life story were to be put onto the big screen, who would play me? Maybe I'll get Grace Park from Battlestar Galactica to play me. Or Lucy Liu, she's hot.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Blue Lights
Best Dodgers game I've been to in a long, long time. They ended up winning over the Astro's 5-2 with Kershaw pitching. Andre Ethier sat out, Russell Martin played, and it was the first game that I've seen Manny play live since last year. Good group of friends, a lot of laughter, smuggled in rum with watered down Coke, cheap beer, garlic fries, and me making friendly with the guys a few rows down and tasting their pretzel. ;)
I became a Dodgers fan when I was in elementary school. I watched them play the Rockies and lose, but I was hooked. It was a hot, hot day when I first saw them play, and I can only imagine I was baking and miserable, but I loved every second of the game. I loved the stadium back then, the vibe of the crowd, the instant camaraderie and the slow, but steady suspense of the game. I hope to catch them play the Rockies again some day, and then the Angels. Still have yet to see those two match ups.... that would put a big smile on my face.
We got there in time tonight to hear the national anthem and see the first pitch, and the game was just really fun -- not intensely exciting or edge-of-the-seat moving, but a constant flow of action on the field. I think it was the 6th inning that saw 3 Dodgers runs, the last of which came when the pitcher had the ball lobbed to him from the catcher and it bounced off his glove off to the foul area. It was a really pitiful moment to watch, but one of those ones that's funny in hindsight on the "Bloopers" reel.
Listened to all the usual songs: Bon Jovi's "Livin on a Prayer," Journey's "Don't Stop Believing," and of course, "I Love L.A." and made my throat go hoarse in the process, but I would've had it no other way. Being in Dodgers Stadium makes up for all the little things that make me detest the city. I realized that at no other point am I more proud to be from Southern California than when I go see the Dodgers. Dodgers Stadium has so much soul, so much enthusiasm and fun, and I feel at home there. It also made me realize that I have to be with a Dodgers fan, no doubt about that. It's my goal to get on the Kiss Cam one day!
Afterward, we all drove home, most of the guys drunk and silly, singing along with the radio. Queen, the Rolling Stones, and even Debbie Gibson, which elicited more loud singing from the men than women. Stood around in the hot, humid air when we got home, chatting and laughing some more. Hopping around foot to foot, growing sleepy, and now here I am blogging.
No surf today or tomorrow, but it's okay; I live for weekday dawn patrols before work when other people lay lying in their beds.
I became a Dodgers fan when I was in elementary school. I watched them play the Rockies and lose, but I was hooked. It was a hot, hot day when I first saw them play, and I can only imagine I was baking and miserable, but I loved every second of the game. I loved the stadium back then, the vibe of the crowd, the instant camaraderie and the slow, but steady suspense of the game. I hope to catch them play the Rockies again some day, and then the Angels. Still have yet to see those two match ups.... that would put a big smile on my face.
We got there in time tonight to hear the national anthem and see the first pitch, and the game was just really fun -- not intensely exciting or edge-of-the-seat moving, but a constant flow of action on the field. I think it was the 6th inning that saw 3 Dodgers runs, the last of which came when the pitcher had the ball lobbed to him from the catcher and it bounced off his glove off to the foul area. It was a really pitiful moment to watch, but one of those ones that's funny in hindsight on the "Bloopers" reel.
Listened to all the usual songs: Bon Jovi's "Livin on a Prayer," Journey's "Don't Stop Believing," and of course, "I Love L.A." and made my throat go hoarse in the process, but I would've had it no other way. Being in Dodgers Stadium makes up for all the little things that make me detest the city. I realized that at no other point am I more proud to be from Southern California than when I go see the Dodgers. Dodgers Stadium has so much soul, so much enthusiasm and fun, and I feel at home there. It also made me realize that I have to be with a Dodgers fan, no doubt about that. It's my goal to get on the Kiss Cam one day!
Afterward, we all drove home, most of the guys drunk and silly, singing along with the radio. Queen, the Rolling Stones, and even Debbie Gibson, which elicited more loud singing from the men than women. Stood around in the hot, humid air when we got home, chatting and laughing some more. Hopping around foot to foot, growing sleepy, and now here I am blogging.
No surf today or tomorrow, but it's okay; I live for weekday dawn patrols before work when other people lay lying in their beds.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
Sleepy
Yesterday, while sitting in a wine bar with some friends, P leaned over to me and told me I look like a fairy. I was a little puzzled until he explained in further detail that I look magical, as in if we were in a forest together, I would be the fairy. That is one of the odder compliments (?) that I've ever received, but it made me laugh.
It made me think more of my childhood, and one of the memories that stands out the most is the constant battling between my neighbor and I over who got to choose which movie to watch. He would always choose "Ferngully," which is a movie about a magical rainforest and pixies or fairies or whatnot. Actually, now that I looked it up on IMDB.com, seems like some big names did the voices: Tim Curry, Christian Slater, Robin Williams, Cheech Marin, Tommy Chong... Maybe I'm in good company, then, being a fairy and all.
I always wanted to watch the movie called "Rock-a-Doodle" about a rock-and-roll rooster who makes it to the big time. I could actually make a really dirty joke, but I won't. (But I bet now you and I are both thinking it!) More often than not, I lost that battle, though, since we watched the movies at his house, and well, both of the movies belonged to him.
I had my first work-related dream last night, and I woke up this morning just exhausted. I guess working while sleeping will do that to you. I was thinking a lot this past week about something B.F. told me when he decided to quit his job and change his career path. I'm always stuck in this in-between of sticking something out to be smart, or doing what makes me happy. I'm debating a lot with myself right now, and can only wonder why, so often in life, those two things are at odds. In the long run, the two can only go hand in hand.
I read some quote somewhere, and I'll probably get it wrong, but it's pretty common sense and the basic message is something along the lines of pursuing what makes you happy and not dying wishing you did something else. Vague, I know, but I usually get all those sayings wrong, so that's about as good as it gets.
Anyway, I'm typing this all up at work, hence, the rush and the lack of introspective detail and insight.
It made me think more of my childhood, and one of the memories that stands out the most is the constant battling between my neighbor and I over who got to choose which movie to watch. He would always choose "Ferngully," which is a movie about a magical rainforest and pixies or fairies or whatnot. Actually, now that I looked it up on IMDB.com, seems like some big names did the voices: Tim Curry, Christian Slater, Robin Williams, Cheech Marin, Tommy Chong... Maybe I'm in good company, then, being a fairy and all.
I always wanted to watch the movie called "Rock-a-Doodle" about a rock-and-roll rooster who makes it to the big time. I could actually make a really dirty joke, but I won't. (But I bet now you and I are both thinking it!) More often than not, I lost that battle, though, since we watched the movies at his house, and well, both of the movies belonged to him.
I had my first work-related dream last night, and I woke up this morning just exhausted. I guess working while sleeping will do that to you. I was thinking a lot this past week about something B.F. told me when he decided to quit his job and change his career path. I'm always stuck in this in-between of sticking something out to be smart, or doing what makes me happy. I'm debating a lot with myself right now, and can only wonder why, so often in life, those two things are at odds. In the long run, the two can only go hand in hand.
I read some quote somewhere, and I'll probably get it wrong, but it's pretty common sense and the basic message is something along the lines of pursuing what makes you happy and not dying wishing you did something else. Vague, I know, but I usually get all those sayings wrong, so that's about as good as it gets.
Anyway, I'm typing this all up at work, hence, the rush and the lack of introspective detail and insight.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Parfum d'ocean
I smell like the ocean.
Woke up at 5 this morning, took a drive down to the beach to see small, onshorey windswell. The air was chillier than I'd expected, and I'd hoped to go out sans wetsuit, but donned it anyway. I didn't have many expectations for catching waves, so I headed a bit south and paddled out. I ended up having a blast anyway and catching more waves than I originally thought (I was honestly a little scared that I would catch no waves).
Had a great, short but fun mountain bike ride yesterday night. Took a bunch of silly tumbles and ended up getting a couple of scratches here and there and a nice bruise when I ran into a tree. Couldn't do much during the ride but just laugh things off, especially when I was bushwhacked a hundred times through the overgrown forest.
A great two days... hoping to get out in the water again after work, and maybe this time without needing a wetsuit.
Can't complain much. Trying to blog a little more, but mostly just end up recapping major events without much introspective writing or even complete sentences. We'll see if that changes.
Woke up at 5 this morning, took a drive down to the beach to see small, onshorey windswell. The air was chillier than I'd expected, and I'd hoped to go out sans wetsuit, but donned it anyway. I didn't have many expectations for catching waves, so I headed a bit south and paddled out. I ended up having a blast anyway and catching more waves than I originally thought (I was honestly a little scared that I would catch no waves).
Had a great, short but fun mountain bike ride yesterday night. Took a bunch of silly tumbles and ended up getting a couple of scratches here and there and a nice bruise when I ran into a tree. Couldn't do much during the ride but just laugh things off, especially when I was bushwhacked a hundred times through the overgrown forest.
A great two days... hoping to get out in the water again after work, and maybe this time without needing a wetsuit.
Can't complain much. Trying to blog a little more, but mostly just end up recapping major events without much introspective writing or even complete sentences. We'll see if that changes.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Zombies
I finally found someone who is as terrified of zombies as I am. I mean, actually, truly scared of zombies. I always thought I was the only person on this earth who had an honest fear of them and did things to actively prevent my demise in case of an attack. These days, though, it seems like an attack by people infected with a mutated form of rabies or something is more likely to occur.
After doing a grocery store run, I'll fill up my pantry or fridge and then look at it, calculating how many days I could ration my food supplies. I also get a strange sense of satisfaction when I stock up on toilet paper and think, "Boy, I could really wipe my ass for months with all this toilet paper!" Okay, that made me laugh out loud.
Anyway, I wish I had some form of game. It would really help out right about now.
After doing a grocery store run, I'll fill up my pantry or fridge and then look at it, calculating how many days I could ration my food supplies. I also get a strange sense of satisfaction when I stock up on toilet paper and think, "Boy, I could really wipe my ass for months with all this toilet paper!" Okay, that made me laugh out loud.
Anyway, I wish I had some form of game. It would really help out right about now.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Nothing Much
This is one of those mornings when I just feel incredibly lucky.
I woke up early and made my way down to the beach. Not much for waves anywhere that I saw, but it was so nice out that I couldn't say no. I had a terrific time, even though I'm a complete donkey. I caught a couple of waves and realized I've never caught a wave that didn't put a smile on my face. Lucky, or just perspective? I've also never had a surf session that didn't make me feel better after than before.
Water is warm, air is warm, hardly a cloud in the sky. I got in early enough and out early enough that I could walk on an almost empty beach afterward, watching the shells collect in the pools of water left behind in sandy troughs.
I feel lucky to be alive, to be me, to have the opportunity to surf and enjoy everything life has to offer. Nothing puts that more into perspective than going out and paddling into the ocean. It does it every single time.
Speaking of lucky, I had a dream last night that a catastrophic 10.2 earthquake was about to hit California. I woke up panicked. Just a dream - lucky indeed.
I woke up early and made my way down to the beach. Not much for waves anywhere that I saw, but it was so nice out that I couldn't say no. I had a terrific time, even though I'm a complete donkey. I caught a couple of waves and realized I've never caught a wave that didn't put a smile on my face. Lucky, or just perspective? I've also never had a surf session that didn't make me feel better after than before.
Water is warm, air is warm, hardly a cloud in the sky. I got in early enough and out early enough that I could walk on an almost empty beach afterward, watching the shells collect in the pools of water left behind in sandy troughs.
I feel lucky to be alive, to be me, to have the opportunity to surf and enjoy everything life has to offer. Nothing puts that more into perspective than going out and paddling into the ocean. It does it every single time.
Speaking of lucky, I had a dream last night that a catastrophic 10.2 earthquake was about to hit California. I woke up panicked. Just a dream - lucky indeed.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
(Photos courtesy of Nan)
I did a beautiful ride up Blackstar last night. Though there were a few problems that occurred on the descent, the sunset was spectacular and the company afterwards was great. I've been meaning to try out some new dirt, and have been glad to have friends step up to offer to take me on rides I would've otherwise had to try out solo.
Mountain biking is so much different than surfing in that way; while I love to ride alone and it allows me to get in a nice groove, I really enjoy the company of friends when I'm out on the trails. Some trails are better ridden together, and the camaraderie can enhance the experience.
With surfing, I often feel much better when I'm out in the water alone. There are those cases when I love surfing with someone and seeing them catch a wave or having them see me catch a wave. Or the special people you love to paddle out with just because being in the water with them is good enough. I love the times when afterwards, you both smile and share the stoke of a good session. But mostly, I love the solitude and the quiet of being alone, moving gently with the ocean, seeing the sun breaking through, hair slicked back by the water, and nothing but the pure joy of waiting.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
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