Big News

I bought my first surfboard! This thing could practically catch waves by itself. It's the Shuler Cosmo, an 7'5 egg that's thick in all right places, with long-board stability but the maneuverability of a short-board. More importantly, the Cosmo will ride well in pretty much anything. As a weekend surfer, I don't get to be choosy about conditions and this board will never be the limiting factor in how much fun I'm having (that would be my skills). Shuler Surfboards is located in Seaside and it's pretty great to have the opportunity to support a local shaper.

We took it out for its maiden voyage yesterday and I had a fun day, even with inconsistent sets, wind, frigid waters, and a cloud bank that sat on the coastline all day while Portland enjoyed summer. Sam had his most epic belly flop ever, I saw Kyle Carnes stand up, and Jeremy, well, Jeremy caught waves because that's what he does. All the time. Poor Rian forgot one of her booties (look!). Not really acceptable on the Oregon coast (I was in a wetsuit, hood, booties and gloves) but she still stuck it out for awhile, winning the Toughest Surfer of the Day award. She also took that photo up there.

Summer Cover

I spent a lot of time in the sun during  Fourth of July weekend and it was totally glorious. Two river trips and a visit to the coast. Sun all day every day. But I burned my skin. A lot. My face, my arms, my legs, pretty much everything that was exposed. It's turning to tan now and is a necessary step of Oregon Summer but I feel a bit guilty due to things like skin cancer and wrinkles. I am going to start wearing more hats to circumvent this problem. This is my new dream hat:



It's by Stetson (so classic) and looks pretty much perfect. Cool, straw, nice straight brim (didn't you hate those janky cowboy hats with the crazy creased brims that were featured so prominently in Abercrombie and Fitch ads and photos of fratboys at Shasta? I did. I still do).

Also, I have two new obsessions:

1. I am officially obsessed with surfing. Before Fourth of July Weekend I felt like surfing was something that was kind of fun, but I was unusually daunted by the whole thing. I liked it but in a really grudging, hand-wringing kind of way. The wetsuit, the carrying of the board, the paddling, the avoiding of other people surfing, the tides, the whole thing. Sam would be giddy with joy and I would be, well, nervous mostly. But that changed. We had a sunny day out there and I felt like I was making progress and popping right up and paddling into things rather than just being pushed around. I want to go right now.

2. Watermelon juice. It's amazing! You just throw a bunch of watermelon in the blender and suddenly it's a delicious cooling juice. I drank it straight. I made alcoholic beverages with it. We used it to make melon jungle juice for a jungle juice party and won a prize. I will drink watermelon juice from now until you just can't buy watermelon anymore.

Breaststroke

I'm going surfing this weekend. Exciting. I have been swimming recently (like, training) in an attempt to develop my subpar swimming skills. The whole thing has awoken some bad memories involving swimsuit malfunction, and created a new one.

2004. I moved to Dunedin, New Zealand for a year. In my first week there, I did the obligatory I'm an American With No Friends So I'm Going to the Beach by Myself Trip. It was sunny, the water was gleaming, I waded out into the ocean with all the screaming children and attempted to body surf for a while. I was wearing a bikini top and a ridiculous shin-length skirt because I'm self-conscious. After half an hour, I was blinded by salt and tired. A pale behemoth rising from the ocean, I turned, and fighting the current and my skirt, began to stagger to shore. I passed a man playing with a baby. He looked away with an expression similar to horror. I continued to pass families, children, and finally some tan snickering boys. The boldest yelped out, "Hey! Noice top." I looked down. My bikini top was not a top anymore. It was a twisted flora-print string under my boobs, tucked away and filled with sand.

I then went a few years without major mishap. One moment on the Washougal last summer but only after diving. That happens to everyone. Most people adjust underwater rather than waiting until they've stood up proudly, blowing water out of their nose, but apparently that's just not me.

And then. The training: Columbia Park Swimming Pool. Lap swim. I got this new one-piece. I want to be a swimmer and everyone knows that serious swimmers wear a one-piece. Liz is a serious swimmer. She has a one-piece, a cap, goggles, and an actual routine. Not just like, make it to that end, cling to the wall for a while, make it back to the shallow end, stand, gasp for breath, repeat. I feel successful if I don't get hung up on a lane divider. Anyway, after lap three, I did my typical shallow end routine of standing up and gasping for air. As did my right breast. In front of another lap swimmer who made a horrified expression and looked away. The one-piece purchase was a total failure.

So, here's the positive. I'm going to be wearing a wetsuit while surfing. It is thick and neoprene and extremely difficult to get any portion of my body in and out of it. The chances of my chest's exposure to open air are directly proportional to my chances of being ripped into pieces by a shark. Which, I think, are pretty small.

Also

I've been wanting to start surfing for a while but the whole thing is so daunting and intimidating that I just kept putting it off as something I would do at some point in the far off future.

It seems the future was this weekend. Sam picked me up and I wasn't feeling very good, and I have to admit, I was kind of being a jerk. I don't like doing things when I have no idea what I'm doing, especially if I feel like it's a public forum, and surfers are notorious for having these complicated hierarchies and all this unspoken etiquette and they call people 'kooks' when they flail around without reason (that would be me) and as we got closer and closer to the beach, Sam got more and more excited, and I got gloomier and gloomier. I was imagining all sorts of humiliation and perhaps death by drowning (which doesn't look like drowning). And it was kind of raining. We went to Short Sands which requires a walk down a trail to the beach and I was just like: doom, doom, doom. And there's the sad fact that my wetsuit hood squeezes my face and makes me look like a teletubby.

But then we actually got in the water and it was so fun. Yes it's cold. But wetsuits are warm and the only thing that was cold were my hands. And paddling is exhausting. When you finally get out of the water and try to walk, you are shaking like a wet dog. But I finally stood up, like, actually kind of caught a wave (three times this happened!) and it was indescribably exciting. Total triumph. DFP. Sam said he had never seen a bigger smile on my face (teletubby smiling). I cannot imagine how fun surfing is when you are actually good. I'm done for.