Losing Stoke

I wanted to go for a surf tonight... but then I also didn't want to go for a surf. What I wanted was long, clean lines of glassy, peeling waves that go on and on. I wasn't quite committed to going out in dumpy bad surf, getting beaten up, and not catching any good rides. There are days when I do commit to going out in any condition, and then end up having a great time despite my expectation to the contrary... I've been pleasantly surprised in messy surf, big surf, and tiny surf. Tonight, though, I wasn't so committed.

I stopped at the north end of North. It didn't look great, but I ended up talking to a totally stoked American, who convinced me to at least check out the south end of North. His stoke helped. But there wasn't a parking spot at Mid, so I drove to South instead of the south end of North. South didn't look good... but I made a u-turn and drove back to the south end of North, and walked out and looked. It didn't look all that great. I stood there for quite a while, unable to make up my mind.

After watching for a bit and realizing that I wasn't going to be doing anything else if I didn't go out, I decided to go out even if it wasn't going to be great. It looked cold... so I put on my booties for the first time since June. I paddled out... got out surprisingly easily (I must be getting better at this)... and waited and waited and waited. It wasn't all that great for what seemed like forever... I caught a few close outs... and successfully made a huge drop which I for some reason barely felt (maybe I was in the air for a bit, I didn't feel the wave under me)... it wasn't a bad session... but it wasn't a super fun one for the first half... but because I was wearing booties, I was very warm and was able to stay out comfortably... then the surf got better, and I started getting much better rides.

At one point, I caught a peeling wave, and as I popped up, cameras on the beach started flashing at me... and there must have been over ten flashes aimed at me for the first few seconds of my ride. Tofino is, for the moment, filled with tourists.... and I am as watchable as a seal. Somewhere out there are pictures of me surfing that I shall never see.

Winter is coming... and I had better figure out how I'm going to keep the stoke.

Giving up

Here's another first:

Today, I gave up.

I went to North Chesterman after work today... the swell was 11.9ft according to the surf report. I went out, worked really hard to get out, got out, sat for a while, and after watching one gigantic wave after another come in and not break in any rideable way, I gave up, and paddled back to the beach.

I decided that I wasn't going to get any good rides in gigantic, big, dumpy surf... so I left to go check out other beaches. I went and checked South. At the end of the trail, I saw Ralph, who said there will be no surfing for him today.

I decided to not go out and get killed and not get any rides. So for the first time since I've been with Bluepath, I gave up.

I went home, got out of my wetsuit, put on a pair of jeans, and went to check out this climbing gym that a friend has been trying to get me to go to (who has the time, with all the good surf we've been having?)... so I went there and climbed. I'm climbing way better than I have ever climbed before... not that I've done a lot of climbing before... but I surprised myself. All the paddling must have improved my upper body strength... I was pretty impressed.

The good time climbing was making the evening pretty good... but the thing that topped it off was that the climbing gym dude's girlfriend came in... and said that the surf at North was nasty and big and NO ONE got any rides... one person got barrelled, chewed up, and spat out on the sand... not the water.

Well... looks like I made the right choice! Sometimes, giving up is the exactly right thing to do.

WohhhhhhhH!

Big surf today... went to North Chesterman and successfully made the biggest drop of my life... totally overhead... went all the way down... and then all the way back up. Who knew that the big 1966-inspired wood fin on the Bluepath would carve so beautifully!

Aside from that, it was an unremarkable session.

But holy crap... what a drop!!

Time Well Spent

Got the day off work today... and had no check-outs... which meant I had the whole day to do whatever I wanted.

Last night, I made an appointment to get my haircut. This morning, I went and had my hair cut for three hours. Three hours of cutting... not colouring, not treating, but cutting. The best haircut-- par excellence.

Then I went to the bookstore to see if I could purchase a copy of David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest to give to someone... they didn't have it... so I ended up lending out my only copy (4th printing of the 1st paperback edition... which means absolutely nothing in collector terms... but... it is my first and only copy of the book). I can hardly believe I've done this... but I've put my e-mail address on the inside cover, in the hopes that he will write me and tell me that DFW is awesome and ask me out. I've already pictured the Austenian moment of revelation.

Microwaves at Cox.

Now I, with my awesome new haircut, am going to bed.

Inspired by Caffe Calabria

Pretty and tasty but a little rock-like, acceptably so, but still...
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Surfboard for Sale...

I went out to Cox with Bluepath yesterday. It was big and onshore. It was so difficult to get out that in those conditions, I have never managed to get out before. Being super tenacious and a better surfer than I have ever been, I was able to paddle out in a reasonable amount of time, and without fatigue. Sitting on the outside with an 11' board and waves the size of houses coming at me was quite an experience. It was so big that I thought I was going to die. Yesterday was bigger and worse than the day on which I got beaten up by Bluepath and had a chunk of hair torn out. In short, I was afraid.

I didn't get killed, and I didn't get any good rides... I decided to go check out Long Beach instead. On the path up to the parking lot though, I dropped my board. It dropped from waist height... and was severely dinged all along one rail, and had little dings all over the bottom. The fin was all scratched up.

Because my board had been dinged once already (a very minor one that did not require repair), I didn't freak out. I went home, washed the board, assessed the damage, and put it back in its bag to take to the Board Medic the next day.

I dropped Bluepath off at the Board Medic today, and he'll be well and good by Friday afternoon. I am very grateful that we have this guy in Tofino. Stefan the Board Medic and Dave the mechanic are people to whom I shall eternally be loyal.

There has been much discussion recently about what board to surf during the winter. I have been convinced by many that the Bluepath is a great summer board, but that we could never be happy together in winter. I have even taken up an offer to try out a fish (shortboard that supposedly catches waves really easily). Since Bluepath was at the doctor's, I took out my 9'1" South Point to Cox tonight. I got out, caught one wave, and brought it back to my car and switched back to the 11' NSP. Ralph was out there on his 12' Munoz. He has been telling me that I can ride an 11' all year round-- he rides his 12' all year round. Apparently, all I have to do is figure out how to do it... and then I'll never go back.

Well, after tonight's session on the 9'1" shortboard... I'm convinced that I already won't ever go back. My task from now on is to get better on the Bluepath... surf every day on an 11'... and hope that by the time winter comes around, I will be good enough to neither kill nor be killed.

The 11' NSP is still a great board... I caught a super awesome right that went on forever. There'll be one more session tomorrow night on this super floaty epoxy board before Bluepath and I are together again. I wont' be riding the 9'1" shortboard again... so I guess it may be time to sell. Time to sell my first surfboard. Hmm. That's something.

Patagonia can suck my non-existent _bleep_

I was told long ago to not pull on my hood to get a wetsuit off, because I'd damange the suit. I pull the hood anyway because it's the easiest way to take of a wetsuit... and usually, the elbows and knees are worn out long before anything happens to the hood... at least that's what's happened with my other old suits. A few weeks ago, I noticed that I managed to rip a hole in the shoulder of my wetsuit, where the hood is attached... well, I had been warned.

So it was time to start thinking about a new wetsuit... which is fine, because even without the hole, the crushed elbows and knees would have had me frozen this winter anyway. I had been thinking about these new super awesome Patagonia wetsuits that are out right now... they're supposedly super high-tech and really warm... eco-friendly, merino-wool-lined, life-time-warranty and all that good stuff. Guess what... they don't make women's wetsuits for frigid water. WTF?!?!

Apparently women don't surf in frigid water. Patagonia... never bought anything made by them... and now it looks like I won't ever.

August is a time for oddness...

I got chased in the surf yesterday... by some dude. Not figuratively, but literally. It was the weirdest thing that I have experienced in the surf. "You think you can out paddle me???" the dude yelled... he then paddled towards me... well... if chased, one runs... so I paddled the hell away from him. Later on, he got up on his board and dove into the water at me... but I got away.

And then tonight, after an unexpectedly good surf (it was super small, but picked up as the tide went out)... I found that my sandals had been stolen. What kind of a freak steals old sandals? I've had them for seven years... bought them at Fairview in Pointe Claire. They look like I've had them for seven years. Weirdness.

Work is a mesmerizing kaleidoscope.

I'm going to bed... but maybe I'll first go look up at the sky and see if I can catch a falling star and wish for some glassy, shoulder high peelers.

Misanthropic supplementary note

Adjectives are not adverbs. David Foster Wallace was maybe killed by people who ceaselessly abused that which was dear to him-- language. It hurt him.
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A post from SoBo

Tonight, I'm writing from SoBo, my favourite restaurant in Tofino, and quite possibly (most probably) the best. Karen is in town today, so I had spent the whole day looking forward to this evening's surf session. Work was entirely acceptable, not free of the unfortunately usual nonsense. The plan for the day was to meet up with Karen and her friend after work, and we would go for a surf, with her friend the surf virgin learning on my shortboard (wouldn't you know it, the dude is so gifted that he rode a wave standing up already on his first session (I hate people like that, but, this guy seems pretty cool)). ULTE2 would also be there (someone recently referred to the present state as "the luxury of his absence"... I hadn't thought of it that way, but I guess I had been rather enjoying it for the last bit). I met up with ULTE1 before meeting with K and her friend. The more people I meet, the more I like ULTE1.

K showed up at my place at around 5:30, and we loaded up the cars and went to Cox. ULTE2 would meet us there. When we got to the parking lot, it was clear that we didn't need to walk down to take a look-- all the right cars were there. We got down to the beach (stinky from dead squid) and I went right in while K gave her friend a lesson. I caught the first wave I went for-- a left that went on forever-- and then the next one, and then the one after that, and on and on and on. Every wave peeled left and seemed to go on forever. I was walking the Bluepath. I surfed alone until Ralph paddled up to me, and, coincidentally, that's when good waves were replaced by conversation. Eventually, K and ULTE2 (I guess there's no "E" anymore) came up and said they were heading in. I stayed out and didn't catch better rides. When I finally got to the parking lot, Ralph jokingly called me a wave hog (I think he was joking...).

I went home, showered, and, as I showered, had further thoughts about dinner. I could just eat whatever I found... or order some greasy take out crap that I wouldn't enjoy... but I decided to fully commit to the HSH tonight (had a pretty good start today), and wanted to score fully on #1. I called SoBo and asked whether it was too late for dinner-- it was, but they told me I could come down anyway... so I wrote most of this post while sipping a Phillip's dark lager while waiting for my halibut with the signature orange carrot cream sauce, and am finishing this post while I sip my lemon ginger tea and wait for my blueberry crumble. All there is left to do to conclude this perfect day during which I suffered (and suffer still) a toothache that radiates to the very back of my neck (is it possible to overdose on maximum strength Orajel, 20% benzocaine?), is to sleep beautifully well.
My blueberry crumble is here (and it's so, so, so very good). Bonne nuit. (and by the way, be good to yourself, because the only other person on earth who can be that good to you is your mother... and let's not tax them quite so much... having children is punishment enough)

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Wisdom and Misanthropy

Every time one of my wisdom teeth succeeds at making any progress, I experience a pain whose source I cannot immediately identify. There is a period of several days before I realise that I have a toothache... during this period, I'm generally misanthropic... or, I should say, more misanthropic than usual.

I've been aware of this toothache for a few days now... and finally today I went and bought some maximum strength Orajel. I think there may be a battle of will going on between me and my wisdom teeth.

Either that, or I'm really valuing the wisdom and insights I'm gaining in my moments of intense misanthropy.

The surf picked up a bit today. I went to Cox Bay in the afternoon... and ran into ULTE2 on the trail. I have no idea what he was doing, but I noticed immediately one of his masks... or... one of the faces that he puts on to meet the faces that he meets. If I were at my old job, I would have coded that card N.G. and sent it on its way.

Two minutes later, I was in the surf and had forgotten all about it. I caught one good ride and paddled back out, and when I turned around, realized that there were five million people behind me. I kept paddling out of the corner, but kept getting sucked back in with all the people. The surf wasn't that great there. I got a few closeouts, and felt like I was taking off into a shopping mall. After a few more, I caught one in and then walked over to the left. Once there, I felt as if I had the whole beach to myself... and got one awesome long ride after another. Of course, I was only catching lefts, so I kept having to work my way back to the lefts... which, given the really strong drift into the corner, was a bit of work. Overall, I'd say that it was an excellent session.

I saw a bumper sticker that said "Life is better when you surf"... I'm tempted to cross out the word "better"... and tag on "the rest is just killing time"...

Those aren't wings on that vespa

Click on that photo... it's a guy holding his surfboard...
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Becoming self-sufficient in Tofino

These are the left overs from last night... channa masala, baigan bharta, and palak paneer. All made from scratch right here, even the paneer. I'm on my way to having my own vegetarian buffet... I'm a daal and raita away from thalihood.
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Even if it kills me... since we're all dying anyway...

Yeah... so... on Monday, I didn't go out for a surf in order to avoid getting a cold, which I suspected myself of fighting on Sunday. Well... no surf, but got the cold anyway.... and then it just got worse and worse and I actually stayed home from work and slept for two days. I've not surfed for FIVE days now, and it's making me quite miserable. So I'm going out today... even though I'm not completely recovered... mostly there, but not quite.

I've been dying since the day I was born... so why let "because it might kill you" be a reason to not do something? It's not as if I have some greater purpose to fulfill, further obligation to honour, unfinished business whose inconclusion equals detriment. Having achieved a certain level of success early on, I don't even have expectations to disappoint. I feel quite free to do as I please. It's like finishing your work early in class... one can wander off with impunity. See you later.

Can't figure out the difference between better or worse

I've not been checking my mail. There's never anything interesting... and I have to go all the way downtown to the post office for it (downtown is downtown... it's faaar). I finally got my mail today, and among all the bills that have already been paid (I insist on getting paper copies mailed to me, but then I always check the balance for everything online or by phone and pay for it... which makes it so that I don't have to open the envelops when they arrive... which is how I managed to have two sets of a credit card sent to me that I did not activate, with the result that I now have an expired mastercard. I suspect this is what happened with the Amex as well... but really... who needs anything aside from visa?)

Anyway... I got the first bit of news for this MPA thing. I've already signed up for my courses... public sector governance, public sector economics, and writing in the public sector. As it turns out, this non-credit writing course is not going to be painful... it's some sort of a writing exercise that I have to submit, and then they give me feedback on what I need to work on... and then it's considered "completed"... this is good news... except that it has to be done in August... and here I was thinking that I have the rest of the month to wholly dedicate to the HSH...

And there's even bigger news in that envelop... as it turns out, they suggest that I complete a refresher course on algebra. Woh. I haven't had a math class since grade 12, and I had stopped paying attention six years before even that. Algebra? For what? Economics?

And economics... it's been ten years since I've taken an economics class... and I don't remember it being very much fun back then, either. (though later on, the UBC arts advisor let me use that macroeconomics course as my math requirement... but then he also let me use my computing science course as my science requirement... I guess they didn't much care, do they?)

Blargh. I had wanted to be thinking only about surfing this month.

Cox Bay was okay tonight... a few good rides... but most of it had me feeling like I was taking off into a shopping mall.

September is scratching at the door...

The last two years have been a time for stepping back and taking a look at where I'm going... more precisely, it has been a time for slamming on the brakes and looking at a map for other places to go-- mainly places that do not involve Ottawa. (Before we go any further, please note that I have nothing against Ottawa... it's undoubtedly a great place to live if you enjoy freezing your ass off... between having awesome Canada Day celebrations and letting one turn right on a red light, it's practically paradisiacal...)

I haven't figured it all out yet... but I can't stay completely still, can I? So here I go, back on the road to respectability and upward mobility: university-- and this time, not for advanced studies in slavic philology, either. (and if anyone has figured out how to make the pursuit of advanced studies in slavic philology not elicit the what-are-you-planning-on-doing-with-*that* response, I'm all ears.)

Should I be excited about grad school? I think it would be a lot easier to get excited if it weren't so practical a subject (which subjects me to a writing course in the first semester... and I bet it ain't no David Foster Wallace writer's workshop, either). Many people are excited for me-- they see the earning potential in this degree, and think that I ought to get excited about that too. But really, what's so exciting about that? I'd be making similar money even sooner if I had gone the Ottawa way... and it wouldn't even have taken a master's degree. The only problem with that would have been decades of suicidal thoughts followed by an agonizing death from some incurable disease with which I would be diagnosed just as I begin to count the months left before the retirement that I would never get. I've seen it happen too many times. No, thank you.

I'll take surfing everyday instead. So bring it on, UVic... bring it on.