Edge of the earth.
necessary distraction
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2012-04-16
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Steve checking his leaves…”will I get barrelled?”.
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With a hot tea inside, you could appreciate the location, if not the decor.
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Nick brewed up in an old shack as we sheltered from a storm that blew out the surf for a day.
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Paddling back across the river in the afterglow of two hours of head-high surf. Nice.
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The photo doesn’t do justice to how small you feel in the presence of nature.
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We drove through big country in search of bigger waves. One man, standing alone. That is I.
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The ritual surf check held small promise.
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A distant wave breaks the morning.
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I sneaked off to Scotland with a couple of mates recently to surf some epic waves. After a 12 hour drive from Bristol to the north coast, we pitched the tent on a beach at 1am. This was what we woke up to a few hours later.
