Freaky Friday


The surf was big on Friday. Well, big for me. Solid 8-foot sets pounded the shore at a frequented North Coast beach break. It was dark, rugged, thick, and heavy, which, is fairly abnormal for this locale. I narrowly evaded certain death once. Mo was on the outside, being smart. He turned and beckoned me with a smile that said it all: So long sucker. I knew something was on the horizon. My arms and shoulders went into survival mode and I promised that as soon as I got home I would make blueprints for a jet propulsioned surf board. Then I saw it. The lip was feathering from the east winds and I knew that I had to take this wave head on. As the moving mass of water rolled toward me, it also grew in size. The last thing I remember is pushing my board under water, kicking the tail with my back foot, and looking into the eyes of a hungry monster. Luckily I made it through the back of the wave with no problems. This type of escape route was used throughout the day. Unfortunately, I failed to catch a rideable wave. I dropped in on a few closeouts and that is about it. Oh, and I had one heck of a "over-the-falls". For those of you that do not know what an "over-the-falls" is, just use your imagination. Once ashore, I was conversing with a familiar face who was preparing to do battle with the sea. In our conversation I mentioned something about my failed attempt. He replied, "Oh, come on bro, it wasn't all failed. I'd give that over-the-falls about an 8." That made me laugh and I instantly felt better about my lost dream of scoring perfectly clean beach break barrels. You win some, you lose some. I believe the current score looks something like this: Ocean - 1,227,362. Mark - 13. Again, you win some, you lose some, but I am catching up.

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