Home Sweet Water

- Emily Hopcian

It’s a warm, blustery September day. My heart skips a beat. I’ve been waiting for a day like this—a day fit for surfing Lake Michigan—since I returned to Frankfort nearly two weeks ago.

I slip into my bikini, slather on some sunscreen and grab my rental surfboard from the bed of my dad’s truck. My feet dance in the sand as I make my way down to the water. I’m beaming.

This is it. For the past nine months as I’ve learned to surf in the San Francisco Bay Area and grown slightly enamored with the Great Lakes surf culture, I’ve dreamed of returning home to Michigan and surfing Lake Michigan, one of my all-time favorite bodies of water.

Today’s that day. Today is the day. I stop at the water’s edge, set my surfboard down, and Velcro the board’s leash around my right ankle. The wind pushes messy waves toward shore. It’s by no means a perfect day for surfing, but I don’t care. I’m here, and I’m giving it a go.