Mapping the seemingly-unlikely-but-perhaps-inevitable journey from lineup newb to enraged local
At this point I should probably mention that the waves were, oh, about 1 foot. Two, on the rare sets, if I’m being charitable. Also, we were the only two surfers in the water. And I was riding a soft top.
Those kinds of piddly, friendly conditions aren’t normally of the sort that provoke angry confrontations. But because I’d never seen him before even though I’d been surfing this wave for the better part of a decade, I felt duty bound to bite his head off. It was my self-appointed role as a regular at Spot X to make sure newcomers felt at least a little trepidation around us lifers.
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Volume 60, Issue 1