That one shot of you with another wave outside is epic. You crack me up. No sooner do you become a stand-up paddle board guy than you start redesigning the paddles. You creative guys are the greatest, otherwise I'd still be surfing a redwood plank with no skag. When I first started surfing, balsa boards were still common, although foam was becoming dominant. I could still live with an old balsa board but I couldn't live without my wetsuit and surf leash. When I did most of my surfing, from the late 50s to the mid-60s, no one had a surf leash and only a very few had a wetsuit and then it was only a top, designed for scuba diving. I surfed all the winter spots in 52-54 degree water. We would lose our boards regularly and that meant a long swim through ice water and then a rock dance to retrieve a damaged board. I continued paddling out, though, because the surf stoke was at the max. Of course, after an hour I couldn't feel the bottom of my feet on the board, pull my fingers together to paddle, or even talk. None of us had ever heard the word hypothermia but we were in its grips. We did, though, have fires going on the beach. When I started surfing again in 1989, I found that I loved my wetsuit and my surf leash--my only concessions to modern times. You know that I only get out about a half dozen times a year. If we had 75-78 degree water, I'd probably be a regular. Our cold water simply seems brutal now at my decrepit 63 years of age. The only thing golden about these years is my mortgage has been retired. I'll attach a few shots of County Line. I got out two times this winter. That was plenty.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
feedback from an "old dog"
Jeff:
That one shot of you with another wave outside is epic. You crack me up. No sooner do you become a stand-up paddle board guy than you start redesigning the paddles. You creative guys are the greatest, otherwise I'd still be surfing a redwood plank with no skag. When I first started surfing, balsa boards were still common, although foam was becoming dominant. I could still live with an old balsa board but I couldn't live without my wetsuit and surf leash. When I did most of my surfing, from the late 50s to the mid-60s, no one had a surf leash and only a very few had a wetsuit and then it was only a top, designed for scuba diving. I surfed all the winter spots in 52-54 degree water. We would lose our boards regularly and that meant a long swim through ice water and then a rock dance to retrieve a damaged board. I continued paddling out, though, because the surf stoke was at the max. Of course, after an hour I couldn't feel the bottom of my feet on the board, pull my fingers together to paddle, or even talk. None of us had ever heard the word hypothermia but we were in its grips. We did, though, have fires going on the beach. When I started surfing again in 1989, I found that I loved my wetsuit and my surf leash--my only concessions to modern times. You know that I only get out about a half dozen times a year. If we had 75-78 degree water, I'd probably be a regular. Our cold water simply seems brutal now at my decrepit 63 years of age. The only thing golden about these years is my mortgage has been retired. I'll attach a few shots of County Line. I got out two times this winter. That was plenty.
Roger McGrath
That one shot of you with another wave outside is epic. You crack me up. No sooner do you become a stand-up paddle board guy than you start redesigning the paddles. You creative guys are the greatest, otherwise I'd still be surfing a redwood plank with no skag. When I first started surfing, balsa boards were still common, although foam was becoming dominant. I could still live with an old balsa board but I couldn't live without my wetsuit and surf leash. When I did most of my surfing, from the late 50s to the mid-60s, no one had a surf leash and only a very few had a wetsuit and then it was only a top, designed for scuba diving. I surfed all the winter spots in 52-54 degree water. We would lose our boards regularly and that meant a long swim through ice water and then a rock dance to retrieve a damaged board. I continued paddling out, though, because the surf stoke was at the max. Of course, after an hour I couldn't feel the bottom of my feet on the board, pull my fingers together to paddle, or even talk. None of us had ever heard the word hypothermia but we were in its grips. We did, though, have fires going on the beach. When I started surfing again in 1989, I found that I loved my wetsuit and my surf leash--my only concessions to modern times. You know that I only get out about a half dozen times a year. If we had 75-78 degree water, I'd probably be a regular. Our cold water simply seems brutal now at my decrepit 63 years of age. The only thing golden about these years is my mortgage has been retired. I'll attach a few shots of County Line. I got out two times this winter. That was plenty.
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