I'm no good at gambling. I think blackjack is boring and I still can't understand why poker is on ESPN. And don't even get me started on slot machines. To be honest, though, it's not that I am
bad at it, it's just I don't like the idea of losing. But as winter grows ever closer, gambling becomes an increasingly more important part of my life. Risk vs. Reward. Do we drive all the way out? Is this a good weekend to go? Should we surf right now, or wait on the incoming tide? Every choice offering an opportunity for failure. 50/50 at best. Because when you surf just two or three days a week, your Wave Window grows smaller by the second. Missed moments. Waiting in one place while waves break in another. Sorta like Saturday. We had planned to stay in Pacific City, hoping like hell the wind and waves would die down a bit. But it was ugly. And with no desire to surf the soup, we decided to drive north. Dice rolled.
It's roughly 325 miles from Pacific City to Port Angeles. The drive up Highway 101 can be incredible... after Olympia. We didn't waste any time along the way, though. Stopping once for coffee and again for fuel. Blazing a trail, if you will. It was five minutes after five when we walked across the street and into the ocean. Two of our friends had been there since early that afternoon and said it had been small, but surfable. As luck would have it, however, the waves were waist high when we arrived. Straight Flush! Karissa and I surfed until the sun went down, sharing waves and taking turns shooting a few photos. As the tide filled in, the swell began to die down a bit. We showered and then headed to Angel's house for our first fall feast of the year. And while I can't speak for the conditions on the coast, I can say that the two hours we spent surfing that evening were worth all the extra effort.
Images come courtesy of
Karissa_Would.
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