We came home to the cold. Forty degrees that felt like freezing. In an effort to adjust, we decided to go surfing. So, following a rather uneventful evening, we arose early on Friday to eat breakfast with my father before boarding a ferry boat. We then spent four hours in
Fargo... which felt like forever. There were waves, though. A spot I haven't surfed for some time. We shared the stoke with a few friends from Seattle. Nothing to write home about.
We hung out at the
ToadLily House till ten(ish). Ate cold cat food for breakfast the next morning. In the water around eight. Following fifteen days surfing sans wetsuit, I was all kinds of exhausted. It took some time to adjust to all that extra, well, everything. It was nice knowing that if I had to swim for my stick it was only a few feet back to the beach, though. More like miles in Mexico. After I adjusted to my hundred pound Halloween costume, I pulled my Pig into a few peelers. Slow and steady. Dancing down the line.
Waiting Game.
Fresh Air.
Slow Ship.
The Good Doctor.
Joe Go.
Log Drag.
Few More Feet.
Go Joe.
Maybe More.
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