In 2016, I became an Oregon surfer. After countless hours of learning the craft, I finally could enter the lineup at my favorite Oregon surf beaches about a year later. Mastering the art and sport of surfing required 90-mile trips from my home in Portland to northern Oregon surf destinations, mostly Seaside. There I found a consistently beautiful set of waves year-round, even during occasional breaks of bad weather during the winter. I have surfed on beautiful sunny days and during snowfalls and blinding rainstorms.
Like all sports, surfing pulls together a community of similar spirits. I love how it draws in those who love to wake up at crazy early hours and meet at the ocean, just to capture its morning magic, as the smell of saltwater fills your nostrils and the sound of the wares creates a feeling of calm in morning’s first light. We all come together in the water, waiting for the wave, patiently sitting on our boards and scanning out for the next set rolling in.
Beyond my love of the sport’s intrinsic beauty, I have developed a much closer kinship to the ocean, and the animals who call it home. I have seen sea otters, harbor seals, humpback whales, and signs warning me of great white sharks that are common in these waters. On a good day, I might catch sometimes 20 or 30 rides, if the conditions are perfect or near perfect. Even on bad days, if I ride just three waves—the quota for any trip to the coast, as my mentor taught me—the experience will have been worth it.
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