Spring Blows

Sweet mother of God, how much has this spring sucked?
Who knows to what extent poet Mary Darby Robinson was deluded when she penned the lines in her Ode to Spring,
Ev'ry little flow'r
Seems to exult in thee, delicious Spring,
Luxuriant nurse of nature!
but she definitely wasn’t on the same allergy medication as me. The only nursing I’ve experienced these last few weeks was sucking on bottles of Lagunitas IPA while keeping tabs on a new sinus infection. Turns out my new sinus infection doesn’t love Lagunitas IPA. Turns out I don’t give a shit.
Remember fall? Sweet, sweet fall?
Some folks call it autumn. I have no idea what Mary Darby Robinson called it, but if she wrote anything less-than transcendent about it I’m burning my membership card to The Wearisome Poet’s Society For Those Who Use Exclamation Marks Whilst Describing A Season. If that society even exists. And if it did, why would I have joined in the first place? And what, exactly, does one have to do to get a membership? What were we talking about again?
Fall!
Speaking of fall, this one snuck by last fall, as boards do when the surf is the clean and the sinuses clear.

Note how the board's color palette stimulates a conversation with autumnal leaf background. Waveglider took this photograph.

Notice how this picture was taken in a Costco parking lot. I took this picture. Clearly, one of us is the better photographer, and it ain't me.

Waveglider has been around for a while—surfed with the heavies on Oahu back in the day when mens’ heads featured a bit more hair in the aft sections, and shorts featured a bit less fabric in the leg sections. He has a penchant for beak-nosed single fins and rippable 2+1 longboards.

WG is also no stranger to the vast expanse of the California coastline, and knows what he wants in a surfboard. It was a fun challenge trying to meet his, um, suggestions. For one of my shapes to be resting alongside the others in his quiver is indeed an honor.

This particular 9'6 has been joining WG in his jaunts into our cool, dark, watery offerings up here on the Northcoast.
Remember those?
Ahhhh, fall.

Abstract bottom by resin Maestro Tony Mikus

Seeing Red

Guys Up North don't fool around. When horizontal freezing rain smashes directly into their blood-drained faces in the lineup they call it offshore. They regard plaid as a color. The only other colors in their chart are jeans, mud, and doghair.

Their automobiles are often missing seats and the word pilates has never, ever escaped through their unironically moustached upper lips. They think Miley Cyrus is a constellation, latte is how Italians say Goodbye, and a decaf is some kind of move from the summer Olympics that's done by dudes in tights.

What I'm saying is that there's a dialogue the rest of the nation is obsessed with that doesn't concern these folks in the slightest.

And they like stuff that's built to last.

9'6 triple stringer for Jonny from Up North. Full board tint with freehand comp bands--done during lamination by master glasser Tony Mikus at Almar Glass Works.

Built tough (heavy-but-not-too-heavy glass job, deck patch, fin patch, tailblock), so when the sleet turns onshore and the beach fire turns to smoke, Jonny doesn't have to worry as he tosses it with frozen fingers into the back of his van.

Right where the seats used to be.