One of My Best Surfs Ever Scooted Inexplicably Out of the Choppy Mess

The seed was an unexpected text from a friend - the golden ticket! It wasn't my choice to go surfing at all, I explained, as I legged it out. Choppy head highs lumping in at Combesgate. Nothing for a while, hopeless and then a wave that broke the seal. After that an hour of pure stoke tingling unexpected fast sliding, catching, turning, all-sorts-of-wave-places, steep pockets of rolling joy. You just don't know. My Dad always used to tell this story of me shouting "this is it!" on a rollercoaster - which was a crock of shit. This was it though, the other night. The rewards of paddling toil, learning, repetition flowering into spectacular fun mixed with achievement. Glowing, embers of stoke showering in the salty spray and burning into my happy ol' face. Proper Cheshire Cat stuff...