Growing up land-locked, I'm not that comfortable in the waves, I'll be honest. It takes me a good long while to paddle out past even the cleanest, easiest break. I'm not master of the duck dive, clearly. Deep water mortifies me. I love the idea of surfing, but I really stink at it. My fears get the best of me out there; I don't really even like my feet to dangle for very long, so I end up stretching out on my board and watching the pelicans or the frigate birds or whatever is flying around overhead--which is why I stink at surfing. I also like to practice yoga poses out there. Crow -- yeah, that's hard on a surf board.
Someday, though, I'll master this mind, and be able to catch waves. I don't think there's any sport so pure, so beautiful in it's simplicity.
This past weekend, I took a little road trip out to Pacific City. I camped in a tent for the first time in a couple of years; van and camper living sure do spoil a girl. My trusty 15-year old MSR stove leaked fuel like a sieve, so I was doubly thankful that the Stimulus Cafe was a stone's throw from where I camped.
I walked at least 10 miles on the sand with Turbo. I climbed the giant sand dune right near Haystack Rock, on a sunny day that was perfectly warm and not windy--a gift in April in the NW. I laid down on a fresh patch of ripply, velvety sand and just watched the clouds pass overhead.
I watched a bunch of surfers put on very thick wetsuits in the morning. I watched them peel them off, beer in one hand late in the evening, satisfied look on their faces. I admired their dedication to the sport in such harsh conditions. Did I mention I'm also a total wuss when it comes to cold water? Yup. I ate a lot of bread and cheese and salami because that stuff makes a good breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I drank some--ok, maybe more--wine alone by a campfire. Cathedral Ridge's '09 Pinot Gris, now that's a pretty good beach wine.
I wrote and I wrote. I even wrote some fiction (!); man, that Artist's Way is something else. It's working miracles already.
I had cocktails--perhaps the stiffest G&T ever--at the Pelican Brewery. It's right on the beach, so that's just an excellent idea on a sunny afternoon.
It was a lovely weekend. I came away with clarity, pacified and content.