Stripes and Stripes Forever

9'2 Bronson for my old buddy, Mark.

Mark and I met in 1985 and, like most kids, we explored the poles of the teenage experience to define our own identities--we were skaters, slackers, authority challengers, artists. We were writers, scholars, philosophers, dudes who flirted with each others' sisters. We were off-the-gridders, dirt bags, pretty boys, climbers, surfers, journalists, lady-crazed Jewbags, monks, walkers, bikers, boaters, shut-ins, fly fishermen, mountain towners, club kids, river guides, musicians.
Interestingly, the middle ground we've reached thirty years later, each on our separate corners of the continent, looks a lot like the suburbs.
Go figure.

True friends teach us about ourselves. Mark showed me, in seventh grade, the difference between creating and being creative. Anybody can make something, but it takes something truly special to live in the world between stuff that exists and stuff that could exist.
I've learned to visit this space, but Mark has always inhabited it.
You can check out his design/build studio HERE.

If you shred Maine waters, be on the lookout for Mark and his new sled, with not-quite-black and white, not-quite horizontal (by design!) lamination striping by Tony Mikus, a creative force of his own in Santa Cruz.

Recommended Pairing: this Bronson pairs best with a lukewarm Heineken in a can, poached from your folk's fridge on a warm summer night. Best when split between two underage drinkers in a tree fort.

Almost Famous

Stett Holbrook did a great job capturing the current spirit of NorthCoast surfing in this week's North Bay Bohemian. What's present is his article is accurate: a deep respect for surfers--by surfers--that may not be present in all of California's wave zones.
What's missing are all the boring, shrill stereotypes about surfers being myopic and territorial. Finally! Instead, Mr. Holbrook subtly highlights our coast's inclusivity. Our respect-for-just-making-it-out-into-the-lineup attitude. Our commitment to cold, dark, raw waters that are hard to love and, for some, hard to turn away from.
The article focuses on, well, me, but it really paints a thoughtful, articulate picture of surfing north of The Bridge. It can be read HERE.
Feel free to 'Like' and 'Comment' and stuff.

Speaking of surfing, remember that board from last post? Well, it's been all glassed up, waxed, and shredded. Initial reports: Oh boy.

Here she is all purty. Tony Mikus did a bang-up resin tint that's more 'kelp gold' than 'baby poop brown'. Thankfully.
I really like Tony--he's a character that's been under the surf-industry radar since the 70s. I like him to sign my personal boards. Here's what he came up with this pork chop:

Festina Lente is Latin for 'Make Haste Slowly'. Basically, it means that slow is smooth, and smooth is fast. So hurry up and slow down. Perfect, as I issued a rush on this board that probably had the entire glassing crew cursing my name.
Still!
It had to be done. Our plans for Baja were set. The paparazzi from Stett's article were relentless. South swell pulses were on the radar. Shredding had to happen, and it had to happen on this board.
And it did!

Wanna know what it's like to paddle out a new design with weird, homemade fins into hollow, dredging, top-to-bottom conditions?
How the hell should I know?
Both of today's sessions were in playful, peaky, shoulder-high mushburgers with fun, lined-up inside sections. This lil' lass dominated: easy entry, positive bottom turns, and loose, drivey fun.
Here's a rocker shot:

I can't say with complete honesty that both of today's sessions were totally 'sober' or 'without the influence of Tecate and tequila', but I can say this: this surfing life is a gift.

Propositions for Prepositions

I call this composition, Off to the Glasser!
Or maybe, On To the Glasser!

Or just, To the Glasser!
Either way, hope Tony's got some green pigment in stock.

Down to the glasser!

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