Surf's Up

by Laurie Wells — November 13, 2006

As I set out from our condo wearing the requisite surfer-girl uniform-bikini, flip flops, sunglasses, rash guard, and loads of sunscreen-and carrying my newly acquired board, I started to have my doubts. Despite having taken surf lessons a few years ago on a trip to Maui, I wasn't sure I would be able to paddle out let alone stand up. But I couldn't face my friends back in Boulder who were enduring sub-freezing days if I didn't at least give surfing a try.

Soon my stomach butterflies were forgotten, as my focus turned from the anxiety of surfing to the pain of having to carry the surfboard the few blocks to the beach. No wonder practiced surfers have such great upper bodies-just carrying the gear was a sufficient workout for me.

The day before, I had studied a little cove that had been pointed out to me by a local and offered what looked like my kind of waves-which is to say, barely there. When I reached the beach with my board in tow, I was relieved to see five people lined up in a row on surfboards taking a lesson. Surely they wouldn't endanger the lives of newbie surfer-tourists by taking them to a risky spot, so I felt safe giving it a try.

Just getting off the beach was a feat. As the waves riffled in, I attempted to toss the board into the water, then jump on and start paddling out as quickly as possible. My already noodle-y arms were not offering the kind of power necessary to make it past the shore break, and the more powerful waves easily picked me up and plopped me right back on the sand. I found myself sitting next to my board on the beach with visions of beached whales flashing through my mind. After a few such attempts, I finally pushed past the whitewater and made it out to the open ocean-well, at least few yards out.

Proud of myself for having made it this far, I enjoyed just lying on the board and rocking to the gentle rhythm of the ocean. Soon, the next set of waves began to roll in, and I paddled myself into position to catch one. On my first attempt, I paddled as hard as I could, only to feel the wave slip out from beneath me. I turned around to paddle out again, and found myself heading into a face full of whitewater. The wave nearly knocked me off the board, and as I pulled my weight back on, I giggled at how much I felt like a little kid playing in the surf.

After a few more attempts, I spotted the wave that I was sure would be the one. As it neared, I paddled like crazy and felt the water pick up the weight of me on the board. Enjoying the instant rush at having finally caught a wave, I planted my hands on either side of the board and pushed up into a crouching stance. I was surfing! My feet instantly slipped out from beneath me and I heard myself laughing before I even hit the water. Too tired to paddle out again, I held onto the board and let it pull me to shore. A bit waterlogged, I lay back on the sand with a silly giddy grin and reveled in the sheer joy of playing in the water.