For the first time in nearly four weeks, the surf wasn't absolute crap. There was an easily noticeable change in size from the previous fifteen or so surf checks.
After you go through so many surf checks and leave with your desire intact, you begin to lose hope. Your tolerance level, the lowest quality of through which you'll put in the effort to get to the beach and paddle out, drops. A two-foot drop during which you would've yawned over the winter is now exciting.
Today there were sets in the four-foot range and they seemed massive in size. I thought, "Do I possess the skills to make these hairy drops?". "Do I have what it takes to go from 60 degrees back to 45, then back to 60 again?". These were questions that would not have wandered through my head a month or two ago.
I paddled out with an ear-to-ear grin. The conditions weren't great, thanks to a rare WNW(where'd that come from?) wind, which had increased since my initial surf check.
I caught two waves which are worth mentioning. Both were lefts.
My first one involved a glorious two-pump shuffle until I connected with the inside. I had to prolong my bottom turn to make it over the hump that separated the two peaks; the one I caught, and the one I was going to demolish.
My timing was off and I snapped too late. I'd like to think I fanned a fin or two out the back, but there was no one there to confirm or deny this.
My next wave I was lucky enough to pump another couple of times, then go for a long floater, which I landed well.
The wind was making the waves feather and bump prematurely, so after about an hour or so, I was over it.
The swell was increasing and I couldn't wait to see what was in store...!