A Love Supreme

If you know what I mean...

It's Sunday. Funny how that keeps happening. I'd have to say that yesterday was fairly excellent. The beach, though not very warm, was just what I needed. We lay our for a while, then my friend and I hauled out the kayaks and battled the waves for an hour or so. Surf was big today and Andrew, who grew up out in Southern California, had a much easier time making it over the breaks than I did. I must have been tossed of the kayak half a dozen times before I figured it out.

First few times were a little scary. I wound up floating upside down with my leg above me tangled in the wire that attaches the oar to the boat. Disoriented and vaguely aware that there's a 50 pound piece of plastic teathered to my ankle, thrashing about in the waves, I remembered the time I popped out of the water, after a similar spill, just in time to catch a kayak in the nose. Ouch. I broke the surface just around the time I was starting to wonder if I might be caught in a riptide and unable to get back up. My arms instintivly covered my head and face as I emerged. Lesson learned. Eventually I got comfortable with the whole falling off the kayak and getting tangled up routine. Then I figured out how to use my oar to stay upright long enough to get over the breaks.

Once in the calm water, Andrew and I looked around and decided to go back into the breaks. Not much doin' out past them anyway. I had a few more spills, caught some air on the big waves and surfed a couple in. At one point, an approaching wave was so intimidating I just keeled over off the kayak before it hit me. I know when I'm beat.