you've come to the wrong place, friends. the frigid sand-colored closeout clamshell barrels from hell are neither warm nor welcoming this morning. not the 3 inches of water that the waves were breaking into, nor the stong current pulling through crab holes towards the jetty.
neither the grey sky, nor the chill breeze.
i am reaching for anything. suiting up in the house to avoid the cold. suiting up in the patagonia, the R4, $$$$ , yeah, that suit, wooly goodness, hard on the bank account but 98.6 inside, and yet, even with all of this over-priced luxury comfort, nothing can peel my bootied feet from where i am entrenched, staring into this complete crap hole of a "surf break" wondering how will i ever get my ass into the water? how will i paddle a 9'2" hull through hollow, shallow tubes? and the better question: why? i finally resolve to bag the plan. surfing is for surfers.