Surf and Turf: Catching Waves and Eating Shit

No. Blender. Alarm. Bittersweet wake-up. I mean, you know the mailman secretly loves the dog that bites him. Also, I had to make my own breakfast which meant I had to drive myself to the coffee shop…Luckily the coffee shop was unreal and right across from the surf rentals. One of those all-chalkboard-menu places with chill people and funky designs on your lattés. I got a heart. And it was from the Aussie girl who later happened to be the surf photographer. Sophie; Aussie; marry me. It was fate.

Er, Nate, one of those was her boyfriend’s name. Crushed by girls and waves in the same day, but no complaints. I’ll be back there as soon as I can B.S. my way through this thesis. B.S. stands for Badass Supercrush, cause we all know I can’t just get by. I’ve gotta #earnit, eh boys?

After my future wife made my coffee I headed over to the shop. The guy they had taking me out to the waves was not accidentally named Troy; he was Troy. The build, the hair (did Troy wear a trucker hat? Not important), and of course the sneaky guy had a “velcro board leash” protecting his achilles’… I’m on to you man.. just how old are you? So Brad Pitt and I met up at Cox Bay (I didn’t actually; he was at the right place, but I erred. It was remedied with a quick phone call and a quick laughing shaming by the girl at the surf shop.. the “oh God, aaand that’s our first one of the day.”)

I finally pulled into the right parking lot and realized I was right about the celebrity. Some lanky girl was billowing in the wind and cursing Billy-Bob while twenty multi-cultural children were running around the beach. I began to feel as if this beach was actually just in their million-dollar Hollywood pool and I was the intruder…glad Troy didn’t have prosthetic legs…

We were in the water for a good three hours and my lungs were still functioning fairly well given their salt water content. Every once in a while Troy would shoot me a look like “what, did you not want to hurt the wave that time? Get on it boy, it’s a Trojan.” I knew what he meant, so I wasn’t worried sexually.

Too. Much. Fun.

All-in-all it was an unreal day and I wish I’d had a few more out there. Aside from my friends in North Van it was my favourite stop on the trip. Partly due to Troy being a pretty wicked guy.

I left the beach around one o’clock and headed back into town to grab my gear that I left at the hotel desk and grab a quick bite to eat at the diner – compliments of the hotel after the room key fiasco. Then it was off to catch the Nanaimo ferry back to the Savage Den. I didn’t want to ride through the mountains at night, nor did I want to disrupt athlete sleep. Again, see prosthetic legs comment.

I made it back to the mainland around nine, finished off my ball of trail mix held together with melted chocolate chips (not on purpose), and started typing this here thing that you’re reading, until I fell asleep. Or at least started to fall asleep, then I rolled over on the air mattress and it sounded like a rubber bear was roaming the house. Who makes these!? Have you no checklist? A) Make it quiet, B) –er. There’s no tougher feeling than knowing you have to sleep in one position all night and not make noise. I didn’t want to wake up in the blender at 5am.

I didn’t, so unfortunately you will be getting more reading material in the coming days. But don’t worry, I know this is just your online Playboy and you’re only checking it for the pictures. You can’t fool me. That’s why they’re getting more scandalous. Before you know it I’ll be requesting a small fee and telling you about these sexy people with corded phones lying on the couch who want to have stirring conversations with you.

No one uses corded phones!

IT’S A TRAP!