Thursday, January 7, 2010
Interesting letters....
I originally wrote this blog for my 10 or so friends I keep in touch with.
They are scattered around.
Easy to update.
At first
they were the only people reading.
At first.
Now random people write me letters.
I never write back.
And none of the writers have ever mentioned their real name.
Blogging feels ridiculously narcissistic.
Getting a little old already.
I was just curious how blogging worked?
SO...
One day I posted a few photos of beautiful surf of my home.
I was born and raised here.
This is my home.
25 years of cold water.
Tried to leave twice.
Came back.
5 of those years I was out of the water from a back injury from dropping in on to rock.
Feet first.
Compression of the spine.
Gained 30 pounds.
Lost it riding a bike along the beach.
I still live with the bulging discs.
Another 4 years kept me out because of surfer's ear.
I was out for 9 years.
Spent a winter in Mexico kitesurfing.
Got back in shape and ready to paddle back out.
Got back on my surfboard 2 years ago.
Still nursing the back.
But I am in the best shape of my life mentally, physically, spiritually---literally.
People don't recognize me.
New 'locals' stink eye me.
Strange.
Every once and a while an old timer tilts his head and puts it together.
They say the same thing every time.
'you look so different?'
It's the only place that many of us would even want to be a surfer.
Still amazed by our place---every day.
The most heavily localized point break and stretch of sand on the west coast.
The history here goes way back.
Way before John Mel set up a surf shop on Hwy 101.
Way before he moved to Santa Cruz and birthed Peter Mel---famed mavericks madman.
The history here is deeper than surfing.
This is the oldest city on the entire west coast.
My grandfather and great uncle worked at the shingle mill in Astoria back in the late 1920's.
My great grandfather fished here in the 1800's.
They came over from Scandanavia.
They watched the same waves.
Walked the same sand.
Tried to catch the same elusive salmon.
Too cool.
So I got a few letters.
About those photos of our sacred spot.
And yep.
You are right.
It's true.
Bad bad idea.
It's like bitching about people hitting on your girlfriend
and then putting nude pictures of her all over the internet.
I whine about crowded surf.
And post a photo to contribute to it.
The saying is true.
"Some excitement is meant only to be contained."
So no more surf porn of the sacred.
Pics are removed.
And this must be what blogging is all about.
Called out on my own bullshit.
Thanks anonymous writers.
Point taken.
Investing time--- for free time gain
Two days.
Six hours.
28 waves the first day.
39 waves the next.
Paddling.
Paddling.
Paddling.
Feels great to be sore.
But why were there 15 guys out in the lineup at 2:00 in the afternoon on a Wednesday.
Unemployment sucks.
Makes the lineup grow.
Too many 20 somethings in the water.
Don't they have jobs?
Last year, this time, there were only 5 guys out at best.
Welcome to the future.
The better the wetsuits....the bigger the lineup.
Oh yeah.
I am a commercial fisherman.
Decided that I wanted to do it---not so much for the money.
I did it for the adventure...and to prove to myself I could---with no experience.
A 30 something who found a seasonal job that lets me surf from October to February.
The real surfing season.
But I need to get back to 'getting ready for' work.
39 days till the season starts.
39 days till I permanently affix the family size Dawn liquid soap bottle in the shower.
The ultimate degreaser---de fish oiler.
39 days to get the boat ready for every potential mishap.
Last year...the alternator went out at 2 in the morning.
Not a soul in site for miles.
It's like sitting alone in a graveyard as the fog rolls in.
Oh yes.
The prop fell off 3 times last season.
Nothing like hitting the accelerator and not moving....at around 1 in the morning.
Wondering if you can get anyone on the radio who is willing to lose the rest of the night of fishing just to 'help a guy out'?
Ran out of gas a few times due to a faulty fuel gauge.
Too embarrassing to ask for help.
Just sit and wait.
Till someone calls you.
"How's the fishin'?"
And you humbly admit.
They laugh.
And then they come help you.
Pity tow.
Oh yes.
A few things to fix.
Or I will suffer more ego blows.
But most certainly
something will still go wrong...
when least expected.
Such is commercial fishing.
But today.
It's really hard to keep my mind straight.
Too many clean lines rolling in from the horizon.
More coffee.
And stick my head down in the engine.
No duck diving today.
Insuring another year.
Fishing all summer and surfing all winter.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Convinced by convenience
Land, fish, timber, and water use.
The theology of resource use.
Natural capital?
Natural capitalism?
Or natural capitalism caps?
What to harvest?
Where to harvest?
When to stop?
Your wood desk.
The paper filled books on your bookshelf.
The newspaper.
Wooden floors ---- real wood planks.
And Ikea laminate floors made of recycled plastic bottles.
Plastic everything.
HUNT to find ketchup in a glass bottle.
Squeeze those plastic bottles.
Dry.
But they are still here.
For 2.4 million years.
Glad it’s raining on our beach today.
No one is there.
One less day of litter.
One less plastic bottle in the sand.
Wood.
Glass.
Metal.
Rock.
Real.
The fish you eat in your sushi.
The fish you buy at the market in filets.
Catching a fish and bringing it home to eat.
And fish sticks in a plastic tray.
Microwave 2 minutes and 30 seconds.
You are so modern.
So efficient.
So intelligent.
You are moving faster each day.
No time to cook.
Faster.
No time to go catch a fish.
No.
You would have to put a raincoat on for that.
Go outside.
Rain is not convenient.
That thin clear plastic.
The lid on the tray.
So thin.
Microwave it.
Cook it.
Hear it pop and spit.
No smell in the kitchen.
No mouth watering urge.
Just popping, spitting, and DING DING DING.
What an invention.
The plastic tray and clear plastic lid.
They did
Not
Melt
You just cooked a “meal” in it.
You are such a fucking genius.
Maybe you have been caught?
Convenience is killing you.
The baited hook.
You bit.
Wake up.
Wood
Glass
Metal
Rock
Real.
The theology of resource use.
When to stop?
I say let’s start it up again.
Wood
Glass
Metal
Rock
Fingers typing on a plastic keyboard.
Disturbing irony.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Heavy V
Working on my boat today---commercial fishing boat.
Getting it ready for the salmon season which starts around February 15.
A lot of work to do.
Been thinking, and writing, a lot about the idea of living in an area where we
harvest the land------and are judged by pop tart eating metro livin' hippies in urban areas for doing so.
They can just go to whole foods and get that.
No thought of where it came from?
My ancestors in Norway were loggers, fisherman, and wood carvers.
All of us have ancestors who harvested the land.
First for food.
Then for trade.
But I watched a lady on the television last night ---ranting about how the 'rapers of the land will meet their demise'.
I tend to strongly disagree.
Sustain---and balance.
But don't just stop using natural resources and live in plastic houses.
I guess she forgot that much of our nation was built on the harvesting and collecting of resources in which we sold and manufactured with?
She must not eat fish.
And I suppose she hates wood.
Personally------my fireplace is one of my prize possessions.
I am proud to heat my modern home with traditional fire.
I am a naturalist-----but I can't claim to be an environmentalist if the claim involves a stop of all harvesting and the consumption of microwave manufactured food in plastic houses.
I am looking forward to fishing season.
I will post my entire rant on all that later.
A junk collector/relative/friend of mine came over to the shop yesterday
and brought an old surfboard he picked up from an estate sale on the north
coast of Oregon.
I thought----by some random chance----someone may recognize the old board.
The waveset fin box and fin date it to late 60's to early 70's.
It looks like a backyard boat builder board.
Someone had some innovative new ideas.
Check out the photo of the heavy 'V' in the tail.
Glassed heavy.
Recognize it?
Drop me a note.
coldwaverider@gmail.com
Labels:
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commercial,
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gillnetting,
harvesting,
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surfboard,
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Friday, December 25, 2009
Happy Holidays....
Monday, December 21, 2009
Surfing cold water equals freedom-----
Sunny December day.
Offshore winds.
No one out.
So many waves.
Tired.
Walk an empty beach.
To an empty parking lot.
Watch the ocean as I take off my wetsuit.
It's 32 degrees out.
But I am so warm?
Naked in the parking lot?
No one here?
What a dream.
Cold water.
Warm wetsuit.
FREEDOM.
This video clearly exemplifies the determination a few of us are defined by---- and proud of--- surfing in the cold and rugged north pacific.
Offshore winds.
No one out.
So many waves.
Tired.
Walk an empty beach.
To an empty parking lot.
Watch the ocean as I take off my wetsuit.
It's 32 degrees out.
But I am so warm?
Naked in the parking lot?
No one here?
What a dream.
Cold water.
Warm wetsuit.
FREEDOM.
This video clearly exemplifies the determination a few of us are defined by---- and proud of--- surfing in the cold and rugged north pacific.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Patagonia wetsuits ---- good karma----LOST and FOUND--- Don't lose the lesson in the loss
Two weeks ago I made a horrible mistake.
The sun was out, my wetsuit was wet, and I decided to lay it across the canopy on the back of my truck to dry it out.
We were having a great streak of surfing in the beginning of December----on the northern Oregon coast----and I was looking forward to another great day of head high waves with offshore wind.
But I made the mistake of leaving my wetsuit on the truck as I drove away in search of waves…………
And when I had realized what I had done----it was too late.
My beautiful wool lined wetsuit, made by Patagonia, is one of my prize possessions.
It allows me to surf in cold water and never feel anything but warm, cozy, and energized from the flexibility.
I have a love affair with clothing that allows me to enjoy the great outdoors. And this particular wetsuit was the best $600 I had ever spent for such adventures. I have lived and surfed in the cold water of Oregon for over 20 years and I have never been so comfortable surfing in the dead of winter----even when it is snowing.
My heart was racing-------because I had lost a huge sense of 'security in my lifestyle'.
I turned the truck around and scoured every inch of the country road I had traveled.
Grass-----blackberry bushes-----fir trees----and a few dead raccoons lined the edges of the asphalt.
But no wetsuit.
It had only been 15 minutes? And there are very few surfers in the area----who would have taken my suit.
I thought back to last winter when I first bought this suit.
And how I did the EXACT same thing after only owning the suit for 3 weeks.
I had to spray paint a sign on the road reading...
"Lost wetsuit---please call (my phone number)"
Miraculously a man had found the suit and called me....
Realizing this was the SECOND time I had lost my suit "to the road" was enough to convince me to lose hope.
I will never find it twice?
My karma is not that good?
I live in a fisherman rich area (not a rich fisherman area).
And commercial fisherman would recognize my hooded neoprene rubber suit as a survival suit. This is something they know is expensive……and so I wrote off the SECOND loss of my favorite piece of outdoor clothing-----and recited to myself……
“don’t lose the lesson in the loss”
I decided to roll my truck down to Cleanline surf shop and buy myself another suit---exactly the same.
My insecurities were eased as I knew I was 'back in heavenly warmth' with the wetsuit of my dreams---but I was indeed out another $600.
It has been 2 weeks.
I just returned from a trip to Portland where we did some Christmas shopping.
I didn’t really find anything to buy.
I came close.
When I was in a camera store I examined the idea of buying a camera strap for my father who is an avid photographer.
The camera strap was made of neoprene and I thought that it was unique and reminded me of a wetsuit. Completely by accident I had thrown one of the straps over my left hand (holding a bag) and walked out of the store with it.
When I had realized that I walked out with merchandise I didn’t pay for I had three thoughts.
1. I just got a free camera strap and they didn’t notice!?
2. I have a decision to make because I can go home with this strap and save myself $50 by giving it to my dad for a present.....or....??
3. I cannot walk away with this strap as it will surely confuse the karma in my life and nothing good will become of it------it’s wrong...….bad deal.
It wasn’t just the guilt----
I am not a thief.
And so-----I wandered back into the store----a bit embarrassed ----and a bit relieved----since none of the employees even saw me put it back on the shelf.
…………….Home------------it was a 2 hour drive through rain and fog.
Happy to be home…..I opened the daily newspaper and checked out the local happenings.
Not much new----------wandered to the classifieds------still nothing new-------------it‘s a small town and the classifieds literally stay the same for a week at a time.
Bored----I wander to the lost and found.
A section I never read.
But hey look that lost kitten looks like our cat Lilly??!?
But of course----Lilly is not lost she is right here eating her food.
And then-------my eyes wandered upon the magic of the human spirit.
The magic of the giving nature of humans which DOES still exist.
There were the words which I had to read three times to believe.
“FOUND: Wetsuit on 101 Business just before the Tire store. Call to identify--”
And the phone number ----which I called ….still in disbelief.
The little old lady who answered explained that she knew that wetsuits were expensive and that she would not want to lose anything like that--------because she is on a limited income and would hate to lose something so valuable.
We talked for a few minutes and agreed to meet tomorrow for the exchange.
She will give me the wetsuit------and I am giving her a gift certificate for a LARGE QUANTITY of coffee drinks from her favorite coffee stand.
Upon hanging up the phone I reflected on the entire day………..I thought about the camera strap………made of neoprene……….the same material this wetsuit is made of………and how life has an amazing way of teaching us things.
How I felt like I was doing right by returning the camera strap today-------but another part of me was kicking and screaming saying that I was ‘losing’ something that I could walk away with for free.
No one would ever notice.
But sometimes we have to lose------and not ‘lose the lesson in the loss’.
Even when it involves feeling like we are losing something when we are really doing something RIGHT.
Would I have even read the newspaper tonight?
Would I instead have been too busy wrapping my dads present?
Tomorrow-----------I am going surfing----------in the wetsuit that was given BACK to me.
I am not losing the lesson in that loss.
The sun was out, my wetsuit was wet, and I decided to lay it across the canopy on the back of my truck to dry it out.
We were having a great streak of surfing in the beginning of December----on the northern Oregon coast----and I was looking forward to another great day of head high waves with offshore wind.
But I made the mistake of leaving my wetsuit on the truck as I drove away in search of waves…………
And when I had realized what I had done----it was too late.
My beautiful wool lined wetsuit, made by Patagonia, is one of my prize possessions.
It allows me to surf in cold water and never feel anything but warm, cozy, and energized from the flexibility.
I have a love affair with clothing that allows me to enjoy the great outdoors. And this particular wetsuit was the best $600 I had ever spent for such adventures. I have lived and surfed in the cold water of Oregon for over 20 years and I have never been so comfortable surfing in the dead of winter----even when it is snowing.
My heart was racing-------because I had lost a huge sense of 'security in my lifestyle'.
I turned the truck around and scoured every inch of the country road I had traveled.
Grass-----blackberry bushes-----fir trees----and a few dead raccoons lined the edges of the asphalt.
But no wetsuit.
It had only been 15 minutes? And there are very few surfers in the area----who would have taken my suit.
I thought back to last winter when I first bought this suit.
And how I did the EXACT same thing after only owning the suit for 3 weeks.
I had to spray paint a sign on the road reading...
"Lost wetsuit---please call (my phone number)"
Miraculously a man had found the suit and called me....
Realizing this was the SECOND time I had lost my suit "to the road" was enough to convince me to lose hope.
I will never find it twice?
My karma is not that good?
I live in a fisherman rich area (not a rich fisherman area).
And commercial fisherman would recognize my hooded neoprene rubber suit as a survival suit. This is something they know is expensive……and so I wrote off the SECOND loss of my favorite piece of outdoor clothing-----and recited to myself……
“don’t lose the lesson in the loss”
I decided to roll my truck down to Cleanline surf shop and buy myself another suit---exactly the same.
My insecurities were eased as I knew I was 'back in heavenly warmth' with the wetsuit of my dreams---but I was indeed out another $600.
It has been 2 weeks.
I just returned from a trip to Portland where we did some Christmas shopping.
I didn’t really find anything to buy.
I came close.
When I was in a camera store I examined the idea of buying a camera strap for my father who is an avid photographer.
The camera strap was made of neoprene and I thought that it was unique and reminded me of a wetsuit. Completely by accident I had thrown one of the straps over my left hand (holding a bag) and walked out of the store with it.
When I had realized that I walked out with merchandise I didn’t pay for I had three thoughts.
1. I just got a free camera strap and they didn’t notice!?
2. I have a decision to make because I can go home with this strap and save myself $50 by giving it to my dad for a present.....or....??
3. I cannot walk away with this strap as it will surely confuse the karma in my life and nothing good will become of it------it’s wrong...….bad deal.
It wasn’t just the guilt----
I am not a thief.
And so-----I wandered back into the store----a bit embarrassed ----and a bit relieved----since none of the employees even saw me put it back on the shelf.
…………….Home------------it was a 2 hour drive through rain and fog.
Happy to be home…..I opened the daily newspaper and checked out the local happenings.
Not much new----------wandered to the classifieds------still nothing new-------------it‘s a small town and the classifieds literally stay the same for a week at a time.
Bored----I wander to the lost and found.
A section I never read.
But hey look that lost kitten looks like our cat Lilly??!?
But of course----Lilly is not lost she is right here eating her food.
And then-------my eyes wandered upon the magic of the human spirit.
The magic of the giving nature of humans which DOES still exist.
There were the words which I had to read three times to believe.
“FOUND: Wetsuit on 101 Business just before the Tire store. Call to identify--”
And the phone number ----which I called ….still in disbelief.
The little old lady who answered explained that she knew that wetsuits were expensive and that she would not want to lose anything like that--------because she is on a limited income and would hate to lose something so valuable.
We talked for a few minutes and agreed to meet tomorrow for the exchange.
She will give me the wetsuit------and I am giving her a gift certificate for a LARGE QUANTITY of coffee drinks from her favorite coffee stand.
Upon hanging up the phone I reflected on the entire day………..I thought about the camera strap………made of neoprene……….the same material this wetsuit is made of………and how life has an amazing way of teaching us things.
How I felt like I was doing right by returning the camera strap today-------but another part of me was kicking and screaming saying that I was ‘losing’ something that I could walk away with for free.
No one would ever notice.
But sometimes we have to lose------and not ‘lose the lesson in the loss’.
Even when it involves feeling like we are losing something when we are really doing something RIGHT.
Would I have even read the newspaper tonight?
Would I instead have been too busy wrapping my dads present?
Tomorrow-----------I am going surfing----------in the wetsuit that was given BACK to me.
I am not losing the lesson in that loss.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Testing nature....we are all an experiment.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
The Pro Leisurist
I just finished watching a 30 minute segment of television about a professional surfer who lives in San Diego county. His giant afro of light brown hair throws him into a very predictable stereotype and the camera lights were sure to exemplify every salt and sun bleached tip of each curl. He speaks slow and draws out his sentences as if to prove that he is sinking deep into zen to find answers to the interviewers questions.
The camera pans to a clip of the pro surfer driving his brand new car along Highway 101 in San Diego. The music in the background is folksy and cheery ….and attempts to persuade the viewer that this pro surfer’s life is one led by humility.
He is narrating and explaining how he finds that when the surf is bad he spends more time with his kids and wife. And when the surf is good he “just has to get out there”.
I am frustrated when I realize that he really thinks we are in church and I have given him a place at the pulpit. His life of leisure doesn’t make me jealous. In fact, his lack of challenge in his life is quite depressing to a person such as myself who enjoys life’s trials.
But his life of leisure does make me think---------what has our society become that we can afford the glorification of such gluttony?
The camera then follows the ’professional surfer’s’ flipping flops in through the giant glass doorway of a very popular clothing company who sponsors much of his livelihood.
The confusion and frustration in my thoughts continue as he explains his role at the company.
“I have been working with Reef shoes for a while now---trying to create a flip flop that is more sustainable and friendly to the environment.”
He holds up a rubber flip flop, bends it in his hands, and continues to explain how this particular rubber is harvested from rubber trees in a region where it has ’less impact’ on the surrounding environment.
The camera again pans---the music changes----more upbeat---inspirational---yet remaining folksy and humorously humble.
“We also decided to branch out further and create and entirely organic clothing line.“ The pro surfer explained. “ It’s small now, but I would like to see the line grow and make an impact”
Here is where he lost me.
Here is where I lost it.
I have been wrestling with this thought for many months.
The wrestling thought has nothing to do with surfing.
It is simply that surfing, as a professionally sponsored lifestyle, is a great example of the concept I have been wrestling with.
In the early 1960’s surfing was not even a sport. It was more of a lifestyle of convenience for those who were fortunate enough to live in an area that was warm, with a warm ocean, and consistent small to medium sized waves for year round enjoyment.
California was the perfect stage for surfing to act upon----and cast it’s theatrical spell on youth culture.
The fascination grew due to phenomenon’s like Beach Boy’s music, surfing Elvis Presley and Beach Blanket Bingo movies shown nationwide. Eventually, the lifestyle moved away from extreme leisure and more into the mainstream as thousands of people picked up the fascination with beach culture.
A sport evolved---and competitions arose.
And finally, through the miracle of mass textile manufacturing, surf fashion was birthed.
There were many small brands that pushed the fashion movement in the beginning.
But it was probably Ocean Pacific, also known as OP, who really pushed the mass migration of surf wear into the Midwest and beyond.
Southern California has remained at the epicenter of this fashion movement. It’s beaches are full of these fortunate modern children of Cicero who grow up in million dollar homes next to sun drenched beaches.
Without boring the non surfer, or disinterested reader, with the details I will get to my point.
The surf fashion industry is enormous. The logos plastered all over shirts are impossible to miss.
A few you may recognize from past and present are Billabong, Hurley, Op, Gotcha, No Fear, Reef, Rusty, Roxy and the mega giant Quiksilver.
Make no mistake about it, these are now giant companies in the industry of fashion.
In September of 2008 Quiksilver reported that it’s consolidated net revenues from continued operations for the third quarter of 2008 were a little over $564 million. Quiksilver brand clothes are sold in over 90 countries and it’s worldwide headquarters are in Huntington Beach, California. There is no question that just this one company sold an exuberant amount of clothing-----all in the name of surfing.
Is it any coincidence that Huntington Beach, and Los Angeles county, have some of the most polluted ocean water in the United States? It only goes to prove the level of apathy which exists in Southern California’s modern movement of convenient ignorance. Surf fashion is a proud child of the lifestyle.
Back to the pro surfer who makes his living off this parade. Or should I say he parades his living in order to call himself a pro surfer?
The pro surfer who wants to encourage his sponsor to make an ‘all organic line’ of clothing.
He wants this line to “grow and make an impact”. What this calculates to is that he wants the clothing line to sell large volumes and make his sponsor high profits.
This pro surfer is convinced that by doing so he may actually make a difference in the way surfers, and fashion minded people, view the environment which he believes we need to sustain. The only difference it’s going to make is ensuring his life of leisure.
Here is my point:
Is it possible that we have gone way beyond necessities and instead we now fret, toil, work and sweat to buy non essentials? Is it possible that we have become a society of people who are so gluttonous, so consuming, and so ego centric that we have lost who we really are as humans. Is it possible that our ego’s and our need to be continually labeled and viewed by status have overwritten our simple need to sustain and survive?
Is it possible that we are so concerned about how other’s view us, and what group they put us into, that was have over spent, over consumed and over whelmed the earth with industrial production?
Case in point: That organic surf wear t-shirt is $28.….and by buying it you will help the environment?
A clothing company can make t-shirts with their logos on them, in various styles and colors, and people will pay that said company for the right to wear that logo.
Yes, you can advertise for a fashion company by promoting their logo on your chest or back.
And you will pay $28 to do so.
That clothing company will make so much money doing so this year that they can afford to pay pro surfers, whom I now call ‘professional leisurists’, to wander around the world enjoying themselves mindlessly.
These pro leisurists will burn jet fuel while talking on their cell phones to their children at home. These pro surfers will come back to Southern California and continue to promote the beauty of surfing in a polluted ocean, breathing polluted air, and wearing fashionable clothing which YOU need to buy more of… to be like them.
And somehow----one of those ‘pro leisurists’ has become so enamored by the offer, that he is actually losing his senses and thinking he can “make a difference” by promoting a line of organic surf fashion?
The problem----is the rapid consumption and strong delusion we have all come under.
The answer is not in making more organic clothing for consumers to buy.
The answer is buying and consuming less, period, so that the organic things which are still alive on this shrinking planet will actually find a little dirt to grow in.
As for me, I am thankful that my family and I found dirt to grown in. We live in the country, I work for our food, and I am going surfing in cold and clean ocean water tomorrow morning.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
3 to 10 seconds of BLISS
It's an amazing and unique phenomenon when you experience the sensation. Riding a moving set of electrons which are pushing through a mass of water we call the ocean.
The initial step of relinquishing control over the situation is essential. Dropping into a wave means entering into a moment of temporary chaos and choosing to remain calm and react to what is in front of you ----rather than try to control the powerful moving mass of water.
The larger the wave, the less control you really have as a fleshly human.
The most fortifying events in surfing happen when no one is looking. There is no stadium of onlookers or even a parent warming a bleacher while watching you ride the wave. These moments do not edify the surfer with any sort of 'external approval'. And therefore they only add to the personal element of the experience. With so much happening while riding a wave---there is not a moment to think of who one is, where one is going, or why one exists. It is simply a moment of non judgment where as the rider experiences a true state of bliss.
Doctor Deepak Chopra put this experience into a very simple quote which exemplifies how to reach such a state. Surfing simply helps a person achieve it for 3 to 10 seconds at a time---the average length of a wave surfed.
“If you want to reach a state of bliss, then go beyond your ego and the internal dialogue with ones self. Make a decision to relinquish the need to control, the need to be approved, and the need to judge. Those are the three things the ego is doing all the time. It's very important to be aware of them every time they come up.”
Can you see it....
Six headlands jut into the North Pacific along this stretch from Manzanita to the Columbia river, linked by 22 mile long beaches and scattered rock reefs. Not so much a surfing destination as a place of brooding potential for the hearty ocean loving surfer. This land lies shrouded in fog and rain clouds many days of the year and serves as a graveyard to numerous ships, the bodies of sailors laid to rest in the depths just off the sand.
But there are waves, and living here one comes to know the moods of the coast...and embracing each of them in their moment of glory is undeniably magical. These moments fortify one's connection with nature and help to define a meaning for existence---thankfulness.
Good surf is a matter of perspective and the ocean, alive with activity , gives it's own rewards to those to offer themselves day after day. The very inconsistency of the weather in this place, it's shifts and subtle changes, make it a shangra la for an adventurous person.
That is, if one has eyes to see it that way?
The springtime winds seem relentless, causing a brown sediment rich cold water upwelling. Giant 30 pound Chinook and Coho salmon taste the sediment runoff from the rivers spilling into the ocean. Scientists still do not understand why these fish swim relentlessly from the ocean up the rivers to lay their eggs, fertilize, breed, and then peacefully die. This amazing pursuit of life and death unfolds as a drama that is unseen by the average person. The roaring river and ocean overtaking every sense we have. It is hard to imagine that all this said life abounds beneath me as I paddle out to the surf which breaks at the mouth of a river.
The wind blows and stirs up the ocean into a frenzy. Still the surface is smooth in these certain coves and hidden special places. Headlands on two sides form a reserve from the elements by blocking the wind and smoothing out the chop on the water. These coves have their own unique climate and they defy the forces of nature which attempt to stir their peace.
It is purifying to find waves in such coves where you may have to hike 2 miles through 200 year old forests before you even see the water. I am assured the waves will be all mine----until someday another adventurous soul decides to wander in after researching just exactly what weather pattern will create the wave which breaks there. Amidst the saltwater baptism I feel in this place is a cathedral of sky....the dome of which is painted anew each day. There is no greater art on the planet than the clouds which are painted on the sky above.
That is, if one has eyes to see it?
To squint at the sun and make everything golden.
To tilt your head back and accept the rain on your face---letting it naturally moisturize your lines of age.
Age is just a metaphor to attempt to explain how many experiences you have had in your life.
But the experiences here are so aplenty.
In God's eyes I must be 500 years old.
If wealth were measured by the amount of beauty surrounding one in their life....I would be the richest man in Babylon. A rich man with experience of ages from so many moments of clarity and beauty?
The North Coast of Oregon on the mighty North Pacific Ocean.
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Home.
Can you see it?
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