Endless Session, Day 264: Out of the Dust
Out of the dust, something beautiful emerges. Photo by Brendan Simmons On day 264 of an attempted year straight of riding waves, surfing was difficult. More difficult than the biggest and gnarliest of El Nino days. In a more than uncomfortable situation but cloaked under the hood of many other red, blue, white, and silver longboards, I managed to paddle out with my magic board, which I hadn’t ridden in over a week. It felt good to be dancing with big blue again, even if my sweet session with friends and the ocean was broken into different shards of smiles, contention, laughter, and dismay. Getting through the morning, I raced to the shaping shop on Cypress, where my mind had been living all week. I’m not religious, but the holiness of the board room and time I get to spend in the ocean is church for me, and walking through the foam shavings — pants and shoes covered in white dust seconds after you enter — you feel like you’re floating on a cloud (that smells a bit like resin). Walking in with a 6 pack of Best Damn Root Beers and Stellas in hand, I watched Jose Barahona, my best friend and the most hard working shaper in the South Bay, pull down my respective block of foam from the…
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