The Tracks are Empty

The swell train kept on coming, then, just when you thought you were full, it was gone. It pretty much died Valentine's Day. Just in time to forget surf and focus on your lover. "Why don't you spend any time with me?" could be quickly addressed - you weren't missing any surf. Let's rehash the last wave train. It started Monday the 6th. The title picture, thanks to Kirk, shows the starting line - the weather was insane. Looked like a little overhead between sets, then the washboard hit and most everyone was pushed down and in. Many ended up in the area of Privates, Trees, or the Pier. The next day the swell switched more north and still had size, but not like Monday. For the rest of the week, the Steps was on fire. By Friday the swell was just about gone. I got a couple on the green fish before heading in to enjoy the first BBQ of the year at Shark's Rock. Lance dialed it in - the Mayor, Terry, G Brown, Robyn, Charlie - to name a few, came down and mowed. The food was great, beers, bocci ball, low tide searching - then the fog rolled in. As usual post a few hot days, the fog came in thick and cold. Saturday morning the fog split and by evening a new swell was showing. I went out with the sun barely off the horizon and the full moon rising. I surfed until I couldn't see. Sunday, a new swell was peaking and so were the masses. I surfed the Steps and after a few waves paddled back out to Sharks to get in touch. First wave I got in touch with an LB burn job - with the look-back smile - sorry man. Well, back to Second Bowl. Is this a taste of summer? I hope not. By Monday, the swell was dropping - getting us to Valentine's Day - It's been wind swell junk flat ever since. Mr. Ben Franklin, one of the founders, baseline, had great insight. He was an inventor, ambassador, and writer. He crafted our Constitution and several essays on our Country's early beginnings. A portion of one of those essays is presented here to remind us of the spirit of our country - lost, but waiting to be found. You'll find no preemptive strike here. It concerns a symbol he saw painted on the drum head of a soldier's drum. The symbol was a rattlesnake. "I recollected that her eye excelled in brightness, that of any other animal, and that she has no eye-lids. She may therefore be esteemed an emblem of vigilance. She never begins an attack, nor, when once engaged, ever surrenders: She is therefore an emblem of magnanimity and true courage. As if anxious to prevent all pretensions of quarreling with her, the weapons with which nature has furnished her, she conceals in the roof of her mouth, so that, to those who are unacquainted with her, she appears to be a most defenseless animal; and even when those weapons are shown and extended for her defense, they appear weak and contemptible; but their wounds however small, are decisive and fatal. Conscious of this, she never wounds 'till she has generously given notice, even to her enemy, and cautioned him against the danger of treading on her." This summer I might paint a rattlesnake on my board. No sorrys.  ¶ 10:08 PM