For sure the ride that hooked me for good was the first time I actually rode down the line. It felt like I was surfing for 45 minutes straight, but it was more like 10 seconds, which is great. When I stood up after dismounting I started laughing out loud. Not just a normal laugh, it was a laugh that you'd hear out of a child enduring a much feared tickle torture. Totally giddy.
Other than that, my other life changing ride involved and '87 Volvo wagon, a dead end road, an upperclasswoman, and piles of nervousness.
First paragraph: You were cackling. Like I was for the better half of 2 hours last night and on the walk back to my truck from the beach. Similarly, if you ever make a chick "loud laugh", you got her in the bag and it's yours to lose. Point being, we only laugh uncontrollably when it's damn good and we like it.
Second paragraph: Not sure if that was when you were 15 or if it was 15 days ago. With you, I'd put all bets on the first. In that case, you better have blackmailed her for the sickest TV, stereo, and quiver known to adolescent man. Any well-to-do bird who's up to no good also knows how to sign a check to lighten the matter at hand. Want to push the envelope and own that '87 wagon? Tell her you're prego.
Surfing has ruined my life. From the first wave I have been hopelessly addicted to Tubular Bliss, aqua blue barrels, perfect A frame peaks, girls in hot bikinis, finless air drops, talking smack with my bros during sessions, and partying hard after. I could have been a contender.
bash me all you want but my east coast ass embraces clean perfect 4-5 footers; that said, i believe a session can change one's life. We're all used to just hitting our spots when there's a bump and eating up our wave candy; paddle in, surf and run home gitty. A few days ago, the forecast sucked but i was off and wanted to do some searching in an area that got slammed by sandy, i hit a notoriously fun left only to find it wasn't working like i expected. I decided to do some walking....past a decent break with some ppl enjoying it. I kept walking, a lot, of walking. By now the sun was way up, light off shores and tropical clear water, the moment alone carried me further but in the desolate distance i could see why my efforts carried me fourth. A new, perfect, expansive sand bar that accommodating an un-forecasted 4-5' swell firing off barrels with not a soul in sight surely was a mirage. I walked up onto perfection, desolate, lonely perfection enjoying the prospect of having it all to my self. I paddled in and had the most alone, perfect session of my life; wave after wave peeling off the point into hollow barrels you could fry a turkey in, (i do that). sure it could have been bigger....but it's time's like that you realize surfing is more than what everyone sees .....it's the most honest pursuit of happiness.