It Clicks

Sometimes it just clicks.  Unfortunately it seems to happen less and less these days.  Our busy lives crammed with to do lists and deadlines seem to get in the way more than I'd like to admit.  But it still happens, and last weekend was one of those times.  The perfect combination of a great friend, a bit of space, and the stillness and freedom to go with the flow.

A couple of California dreamers.

We strapped our surfboards to the roof and pointed the car north.  We wanted to go somewhere with less people, not more, and on Labor Day weekend that can be tough.  So we headed towards a stretch of coastline that is known for sharks, frigid water, fog and generally harsh conditions.  If we could squeeze in one mediocre session we thought we would have scored.

'69 Ranger and a few great peaks.  We're in the right place.

Starting from the first morning we got clean session after clean session.  Sunny days, warm water, it was truly unprecedented.  We talked to one local after a session who said he had lived in the area for 45 years and never seen such great weather, warm water, and clean surf.  We continued north, searching the map for points, driving to random pullouts and scrambling down rocks and cliffs to empty beaches.  Paddling out into the unknown and catching the best surf I've had in a long time.

Another empty cove.

It was amazing how fast we folded back into the rhythm of of the road, the rhythm of a surf trip, and the rhythm of nature.  Wake up early, drink a bit of caffeine, paddle out for a few hours, breakfast, move camp to a different beach, surf some more, eat, repeat.  Simple.

That's Oregon in the distance.

Between surf meal.  No time to stop.

By our last session we barely even said a word to each other.  The surf was just gorgeous.  An a-frame peak with a slow left and and punchy quick right.  There was no time to wait on the outside.  I'd catch one and while I was paddling back out to the takeoff zone Chris would catch another.  We just passed in the middle, watching each other get theirs.  Over and over and over again.

No filter or camera tricks.  This is what we woke up to.

Chris and Ruby meditate on the day ahead.

During that last session I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time.  That click.  I can catch anything, make any drop, power through any section, overcome any stumble.  It didn't matter if I was late or early I could make it work.  I feel very lucky to know that feeling and to have experienced it many times before.  Some people call it flow, others say it's Zen, and some just say you're present.  Some discover it through meditation, others hunt for it with drugs, I found it in the cold waters off northern California riding ocean pulses with my best bud.