Low Expectations Rewarded

Per my surf buddy Steve, I didn't miss much surfwise while we were in Greece. Windy, rainy and meh. Sadly, it hasn't improved much since I got home. Yesterday looked so poor on the cams that I spent half an hour swimming laps at the YMCA pool instead of surfing. This morning was marginally better but I had no high hopes when I rode my bike to the pier in Pacific Beach.

The waves were a bit bigger and had more push than Thursday, and the crowd was initially light. I lost count of my rides, although most were fairly short.

A friendly black dude with dreadlocks started up an ongoing chat. He lives nearby and his name is Andrew. He said he'd seen me before although I didn't remember him; odd, since black surfers are rarer than female ones on this part of the coast. He's on break from studying oceanography up in cold and sharky Humboldt County, working for the summer at the local Rip Curl surf shop and as a surf instructor. I must confess to being a bit envious. If I had it all to do over again, knowing what I know now ... maybe I would've followed a similar path to an marine career instead of becoming an aerospace engineer. And surely I would've found my passion before I was in my late thirties. I would rip so hard by now!

The crowd rather suddenly increased to an unpleasant level, although most weren't as close to the pier as I. It took a while to find my ride in, but it ended up being my best of the day, a right that took me near shore where a couple of smiling kooks were foundering on Wavestorms. Then a fast belly ride propelled me to shin-deep water.

As I crossed the walk path at the top of the bluff, a cute brown-haired little girl gave me a thumbs-up and asked, "How was the surfing?" I returned her gesture with a smile. "Fun!"