Good Friday And The Lesson In Humility

Friday, the 16th day of September in 2016 was predicted to be a very good surf day on the east coast of Florida. If Florida has anything to boast about, it would be the largest surf shop and the great number of days you can surf without a wetsuit. It would not be about the quality of waves. So, when a tropical storm forms in the Atlantic and passed by the state just the right distance from the coastline, the surf forecasters were in a frenzy.
This year I knew Good Friday was coming almost a week in advance, and had everything ready, or so I thought. GoPro charged, wristband remote charged, extra leash, lotion, first-aid kit, I was really prepared. I packed my board and headed to the beach with Sam, checking the surf cams on my phone. It looked glassy at the pier, so I knew my new, short SUP surfing board would get it's first day to shine. The board is great for everything but one: standing up between waves when it's bumpy. The first two occasions I had to try the board had been semi-choppy and I struggled like a greenhorn just to stand up while paddling in the ocean. Good Friday was going to change all that. The prediction was for head high waves with light wind. Picture Perfect and I was going to capture all of it.
I need to be clear about one thing...to surfers, a day like this is not like a bigger bowl of ice cream, I mean it's not more of something that you like, it's more like the hunter facing a grizzly bear with a pistol, a lot of us aren't sure how we are going to handle it and we don't get many occasions to find out.
As we got our boards ready for this epic day, I found that the mount on my board was missing the nut that holds the camera on....no photos of this day were ever going to exist. Looking back, that may actually have been a good thing.

On this particular day, a few surfers were having the time of their lives, some stayed on the beach and watched, and a great many paddled out and sat there watching the waves go by. Mostly it was older guys that could get off work on a Friday, a few really good paddleboarders getting the stink-eye from the surfers, and the infrequent girl in a bikini, looking like this was just another summer day.
Sam brought the right surfboard and was having fun on a 9' performance longboard. In spite of the surf cams, the ocean had a cross chop on it and the wind was at times holding the waves up, and at others closing them down fast. I paddled out fast, but not fast enough and spent about 15 minutes with my new board in the impact zone before I got things going and got out to join the lineup with my newfound surfer buddies. After assessing their looks at me, I quickly moved north where I couldn't steal all of their waves. It was during this time I began to realize that I had brought the wrong board and could barely stand up at all. After I had fallen in 3 times for no apparent reason, most of the surfers had crossed me off as any kind of threat to their quota of waves they were going to catch that day. It got to the point that one of the paddleboarders headed my way to see what in the world this old guy was doing out here when he was clearly not able.
It was at then I learned something new. I merely sat on my board until I saw a large set coming and stood up and quickly took off on one before I fell off my board. That effort seemed to instill some respect from the other surfers, or at least fear of where my board might go when I fell off.
I was out there for about 3 hours, and it seemed plenty long enough, and for some strange reason, my last few waves were the best ones. The thing you remember about a day like this is not the ride, or the number of good rides, it is the tingling down your neck when you take off on a big wave thinking...what I have just done?

A Chance Visit To Saint Augustine On The Best Day Of September

Early on Wednesday morning, my thoughts were on the storm that had passed us, leaving us with big waves and windy conditions. We decided not to pursue surfing because of the wind and instead I drove with my wife to St. Augustine to discuss a future backpacking trip with my brother, the seasoned hiker. We got a late start and got there in time to hit Obi's Filling Station,  usually a great place to get a burger near the beach. Wednesday was not the best day for Obi's. The orders were wrong, and the food wasn't steaming hot either. I'm blaming it on a bad cook that day, and one can hope this was an anomaly.
We soon moved on to taking my backpack apart and seeing what things I am missing and what things I cannot take along. My brother is a minimalist backpacker and among other things, I was told my knife was too big. His idea was something more along the lines of a fingernail clipper, which I assured him, would not present much of a threat to a charging bear, or serial killer seeking a lonely stretch of woods for his next victim. Truthfully, after listening to my brother's exploits, it sounds like the only two things I have to really worry about are freezing to death and starving to death. Apparently there is plenty of water around, so dying of thirst probably won't happen. As my brother reminded me, he has hiked 700 miles and it hasn't killed him yet. There was great comfort in those words...

Before we had even gone to Obi's for lunch, we had stopped at the St. Augustine pier and saw the waves going off. I was surprised because it didn't look that choppy, and there were more surfers than I had seen in the water before at this spot. A weekday in St. Augustine, I expected maybe one or two surfers, but I saw more like 30. We drove back to the spot before leaving for home and I took my board out for a while. I think I was a bit of a surprise there, this old guy in a floppy hat on a paddleboard while most everyone else was on short surfboards. There were some powerful waves in the lineup, but it was a little deep and hard to catch the outside sets, so my board was the perfect weapon and I managed to pull off some good rides and get out of the water before somebody got hurt...after getting bounced off the bottom 3 times, I knew who that was going to be..

St. Augustine Pier, I will be back! Obi's? maybe....

Florida Storm Season! Or Big Waves and What Is That Brown Crap Floating In the Water?

The surfing gang had been eagerly awaiting the day the winds would die down after the big storm passed us by on the east coast. First it was supposed to be Tuesday, then Wednesday and now, hopefully Friday. We had a split decision on where the waves would be best and Sam and I decided to try the north section of Cocoa Beach. I like Cocoa Beach when there is a concern for me about large closeout storm waves, since you can usually find a spot that is more protected if you need to. The issue was the wind was blowing strong from the south and that pretty much negated the protection. Fortunately, Sam brought his windsurfing gear and he and a friend windsurfed while I shot photos.

After a few hours, the wind seemed to die down enough that surfing was sounding like a good idea. Notice I said that "surfing" sounded like a good idea? I brought my surfing paddleboard, and riding it in the leftovers of what you see in the photos was like standing on a greased log in a fast moving river. I worked the hardest you can imagine for the few waves I rode, but I must say the rides were worth the trouble. At one point I was paddling out and actually got launched and did a total belly whomp...good thing there were no sharks around to witness that event. In addition to the rough water, there were a lot of patches of brown gunk in the whitewater, stuff I usually associate with cruise ships flushing their toilets in the ocean. Now it could just be some toxic algae or something, but I worked extra hard anyway to avoid being in those patches of water.
Then there was the task of walking way back up the beach to the truck carrying a giant board against the wind. Thankfully, Sam drove this time and I snored the whole way home...and then got on the couch at home and snored the rest of the day. I will be good and rested up for when the wind really dies down!

What They Just Discovered In Cherokee, North Carolina Will Blow Your Mind

While driving through the mountains, we decided to take a short stop at a little city park, and noticed a large construction project right next to where we were leaving the car. The missus noticed that one of the construction guys had a gizmo that looked like he was looking for gold in the dirt. She called out to him about it and he explained this was an archeological dig and they were uncovering a village that dated back to about 1300 B.C.! He then brought over to show some pottery shards he had just found. There were little marker flags in the dirt all over the place. He told us these flags pointed out post hole spots and places to look at carefully.

Who would ever had guessed that we had an Indiana Jones working on a dig right next to a busy street? Just thinking about how long the Cherokee tribe had been living in these mountains took me back for a bit. Made me think really hard about how I feel about immigrants coming here. I can only imagine how they felt...

Getting Away From Madding Crowd

After a month of working like crazy, sitting at a conference table with all eyes on me, wondering if I could actually do what needed doing, I found it a little harder than I first anticipated to slow down and enjoy life in a mountain cabin. Thankfully, my sister let me borrow her place for a bit, while I tried to remember what I was really after in life.
First, I'd wake up at 5:30 am, and by 8am, I had done everything I had planned for the whole week. I wanted to hike the lonely trails of the mountain, but Pam was sleeping, and I kept hearing banjo music in my head. I'm not sure if it was a compound Bow or a shotgun I wish I'd brought with me, but by the 4th day, my need to hike overcame my fear of walking in places where my body might not be found for weeks.

At first, the same thoughts of "work can't live without me" inhabited my brain, but by the time I started the hikes, I was in full retirement mode.

Just the week before, I had been jogging my own local neighborhoods, seeing the young dads in dress pants and long sleeve shirts putting toddlers in car seats before leaving for work. I realized I had become the old guy I used to see out enjoying life while I had been trying to stuff a 2 year old Dusty into a baby car seat, in 90 degree heat while dressed for 65 air conditioning. I had finally got to the place, I just needed my brain to truly understand this.  The big question had always been, just how much is enough?

As I sat on the front porch cabin at lunchtime, seeing the thermometer saying 68 degrees, I knew that I was at the right place at the right time. There is so much bad news on the television that this simple life seems more attractive than ever. I can definitely see why people choose it...

In Search Of Lower Temperatures...

On the road again....never again will I drive I-75 if there is any way to avoid it. This time, we could have avoided it, but I was feeling adventurous. Two different GPS systems were telling us to turn around and go back home, but I overrode that advice and ended up with a situation just north of Macon where all lanes were blocked and we were sent off on back roads. The 9 hour drive turned into a 13 hour drive. On the other hand, a few years ago, I would not have had a gps that could warn me about traffic problems. That, plus the last time I went I-95 and IT was blocked for hours as well. There must be some good time to travel, but I sure do not know when that is.
This time, we traveled in the Prius, and with the low price of gas, it seemed like I would have spent more a few years ago just driving to work for a week in my Pickup truck than I spent driving to Maggie Valley, NC in the Prius.
We did finally find the lower temperature, but it was not until we hit the mountains. All the way past Atlanta and 6pm, it was still in the mid-90's and felt just like Florida, without the beach...

I Never Drive Past Sebastian Inlet Without Stopping

In June of this year, I found myself driving down to Deerfield Beach, FL for a client. I realized that I had two different ways of getting there, one the quick way on the Interstate, and the other, the slower drive down the coast which would take me right by Sebastian Inlet State Park. I have never been able to pass up such an opportunity and I gladly added about 2 1/2 hours to my trip in order to spend a few minutes out on the jetties at Sebastian.

What I didn't count on was rain for most of my trip. I fully expected to make my first time pass of Sebastian because of the weather, but somehow the skies parted for a bit and I was able to spend a little time there. It was one of those rare times when there were no breaking waves on the inside of the inlet at all, but there were fishermen hard at work catching nothing but some time with a fishing pole in their hands. The place still had a beauty to it even on a day like this when I had to walk out there in business attire. Next time, I'm going with a rod and surfboard....