Despite the onshore wind and dropping surf, I had to get in the water. I had my mind made up yesterday, when I listened with clenched jaw as Michael Arnold told me what I had missed while I was at work. He had been at tenth street riding glassy lines all the way from the outside all the way to shore. Oh, the inhumanity! I, meanwhile, stood listening to kids sing off-key in the school talent show, and dance (twice) to the song "Party in the USA."
I should be happy for him. I guess if I really try I am. But, more than anything, it feels like a part of me died yesterday.
So, despite everything, I decided to just ride the bike to the point. Matanzas looked smaller than anywhere today. There would be something to ride at the point, the tide was coming up, and it would be the best bet for miles around.
When I got there, there were three guys out. It looked crumbly and small, olive green water. I saw one guy get a pretty decent one, so out I went. It was better than it had looked from shore, and I am glad I went. One chest high left, especially, made it all worth the ride out there on the bike. It walled up nice and steep, all the way inside, not closing out like a lot of them did. It was a good hour or so of sunshine and warm surf, restoring the soul back to its former self.
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