Waves, but not waves!

I had everything planned out last night. I called Karen to ask her to put the bike out for me. She remembered at 1 am! But, I didn't look hard enough for it in the pre-dawn light and blew it, not seeing it there. I got up at 5:15 am, got everything organized, and then headed for her house. I unlocked the park gate by car headlights, and unloaded the car. But... where the heck is my bike?

Discouraged, I did not give up. I decided to travel to Matanzas. It was just as I thought. Bob was there, which was great, Walter, too, but the glassy swells were rearing up and backing down just at the point of breaking. Ack! We ended up only getting depressed, discussing the oil spill, again. At one point, Bob was yelling, "That's is, I have had it with this crap!" And he didn't mean the waves (I did get one good one, anyway).

I told him that I have always said that it was going to take something horrific to get people to do something to change things. Until they are affected, people will exist in their bubble o' consumer illusion. It all sucks, and it made us feel lucky that we were out in the ocean at all, sitting in a clean, glassy sea, a dolphin surfacing, coming up towards me, inside a cresting wave.

I went in after only about a half hour, and drove back to the tenth street. It was disappointing, brown, and lifeless. It looked like a sea of oil. The pier was a zoo, a million longboarders and closeouts. I can't wait to get to Costa Rica. Six more days...