It was a weird weekend. Four days and you'd figure we would've found something. But not so much. A little here, not-a-whole-lotta there. Surfed the same spot three outta the four. It was that warm shower, I swear. Found a few Friday morning - waist high and windy. Saturday sorta sucked if I can remember correctly. Had a hell of a good time, though. Friends and food and beer and foosball and way too much whiskey with just a whisper of that sour stuff. Somehow we woke up early the next morning. Maybe it's because we snuck out around eight-thirty and fell asleep in Fargo. Sorry Sanchez ;) Good thing, too, cause we caught waves. Many of them. Most of the morning it was just Joe and I. We picked a peak near the pay shack and shared the stoke. Twinkled some toes and pitched a few pretty turns atop the pig. It was worth the wait. But it always is, isn't it?
