The Goodland Journal: Volume One

I
take my first step into the
cold Pacific, the great coastal
redwoods watching over me
on the bluff above. The water is
frigid, and the air is even colder
as the sun begins its daily
journey through the sky. I am
chilled to the bone and nervous
for what lurks below me in
the unknown waters beyond
but feel energized and alive;
ready to catch some waves in
California’s true north.
I begin to paddle out and
dive beneath a few waves. The
water feels similar to those I
surf hundreds of miles south,
until I am immediately hit with
a freezing headache that is not
so familiar. I push through the
freeze and make it outside of
where the waves are breaking.
I turn back towards the beach
and take a moment to soak
in the landscape around me.
A long, wide beach extends
for miles in both directions,
with the redwoods scattered
on the bluff above. This area
was named for the prospectors
who came in search of gold
over a century ago; however,
the morning sun fills the
bluff, beach and water with a
golden light: the epitome of
California. I wonder what those
prospectors thought of this
very place over a hundred years
ago.
I turn back towards the water
and begin to focus on the task
at hand: Scoring some waves.
The faces are comfortable 3-4
feet in size, but we must battle
howling winds and the numbing
waters. I turn to paddle into a
right, but it soon washes under
me and I realize I am going to
have to paddle a bit harder
to make it into these waves.
I turn to go on another right,
put my head down and paddle
hard. I feel the wave’s energy
take me as I pop to my feet
and glide into the wave. It’s a
short, uneventful wave, but I
feel exhilarated and grateful to
have successfully gotten one in
these mysterious, yet incredibly
beautiful waters.
45 The Goodland Journal Volume One 46