I used to night surf often. Growing up in Morro Bay, California, my regular spot was just in front of the local high school, which was right on the beach. In the fall, football games on Friday nights would light up the whitewater enough to add a bit more visibility when paddling out, and illuminate the crests of rising waves just enough to make ’em out against the black sky, and catch the buggers. People talk often about how surfing feels like flying, and that’s never more true then when trimming along a black wave face you can barely see, the great dark ocean all around. Anyway, boy, I should do that more.


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