For the past six weeks solid, I’ve been going back to my longboard roots. It an 8’8” actually. Thicker stringer. Loads of rocker. Heavy glass. It was shaped with big point break waves in mind. Main Beach at Zicatela doesn’t quite fit that mold.
When it gets four foot out here, you can count the number of longboarders on your middle finger. It’s playing with fire. If you have the strength to manage one, and the skill-set to ride one here at Main Beach, well then Good Luck With That.
But here I am. Putting in my time. Increasing my wave count. Timing gauntlets, managing big equipment without a leash, and getting myself slotted from time to time. I will say it again. Getting slotted. All wide-eyed, and screaming Hell Mary.
I befriended a Rabbi while I was spending some time in The Hamptons. I told him to come visit me in CA. He did. My brother and I took him surfing. We ate fish tacos. He kept telling us that ‘Longboards Rule’. And he was right, they DO rule.