57 consecutive days. Most days there were waves of some sort but everyday I saw, heard, smelled and touched the ocean.
It was wonderful, beautiful, at times painful, but mostly just wonderful. Making new friends and reuniting with others; volunteering at the local Surfrider Chapter; surfing all kinds of waves in warm water.
I arrived home to spring, to lilacs, to leftover swell, and to new waves from a surprise swell south of the border. The winter wettie is a training tool unto itself and I appreciate the strength it gives us rather than lamenting over lost agility. The long drives to the surf? Well, they feel longer than ever. The isolation of not being surrounded by surfers and close to the ocean? That is the part that hurts the most - but at least this year I was ready for it.
Today was my first day out of the water in 57 days and I am not complaining but I can already feel my gills drying out - that old familiar feeling. So what's next?
