The lack of crowds and seemingly endless waves seemed to drain all the stoke he had in him. By the time he returned North of the border from a long stint down in Mexico, he had lost the thrill of it all. What had once drawn him to wake up before daybreak and dawn a still wet wetsuit before plunging into cold water, was no longer there.

He took particular note during the first two sessions after returning North of the border; two sessions in California that would demarcate an unprecedented dry spell. The shoulder-to-shoulder crowds, and jockeying for sub-par surf had lost any appeal it once had. Instead, a narrowing sense of anxiety focused in. Sitting in the lineup, struggling to catch his breath let alone catch a wave, he scrambled for an answer. At first, he thought it was an anomaly. Then it occurred a second time the very next day. Less than a week before, he had been fearlessly charging some of the biggest surf he had ever been in. Now the mere thought of paddling out in ankle-high waves filled him with dread.

With this gnawing at his mind, he loaded up his van and continued North, choosing instead to focus on other physical pursuits such as climbing and spending time in the mountains. He felt abandoned by what had until that point been his longest-running and most reliable relationship, the relationship he had with the ocean. Had she left him, or had he changed? Unable to reach an answer, he continued, leaving behind any potential remains of a relationship he had with the ocean.

At this point, he was beginning to draw his own conclusions. The relationship he had with the ocean had provided him with a necessary sense of respite and a period of reflection. It had run its course, and its job now is done. Now he found himself longing for a more tangible form of a relationship, as opposed to the immaterial the ocean had provided him.

Sinking deeper into the daily routine of living and traveling in his van, he worked when he needed money, and relaxed by being in the mountains with a book or a friend when he could afford it. But like a bad rash, he could not seem to get rid of an underlying sense of uncertainty. The more he tried to suppress it, the more it seemed to grow. The self-medication of mountains and whiskey could not satiate the thirst he had once quenched through the ocean.

This routine continued for several months. Boards were stashed away as he tried to stash thoughts deeper in his mind. Where there should have been a sense of closure, there was an underlying sense of dread and anxiety that he felt needed addressing. Without notice, he headed to the coast with what he had in the van. The only stop was to pick up a 7ft single fin that had been a reliable board for years prior.

It was not uncommon for him to up and leave unnoticed. Refusing to answer calls or respond to texts for days on end. For better or worse, the small social circle around him was used to this behavior by now. He felt more comfortable that way. The aloneness was not particularly lonely. Instead, it was a period to recharge and reflect. That was exactly what he felt he needed at this point. He also felt he needed to confront these anxiety-ridden feelings toward the ocean and resolve what might be the end of a muddled relationship.

He knew the coastal roads well by now, having spent many nights on secluded turnouts overlooking the raw ocean of the Pacific Northwest. These were his favorite spots to sleep, and he had a few destinations in mind. Where he would address his concerns about the ocean, he figured would present itself.

The road he was on winds along the shoreline, the vast view often hidden behind large coniferous trees. Occasionally, there are windows provided by gaps in the trees if you’re lucky. These fainting glimpses provide brief opportunities to check the surf, oftentimes requiring a technical feat of stretching one’s neck and head while maintaining high speeds, all while staying in one’s lane, to make the most of the view.

The surf was forecasted to be a reasonably fun 5-7ft with light winds. But forecasts this far North can be spotty at best. Without laying eyes on the waves, you never know what you’re going to get. So, after several glimpses of rideable waves, he decided to check a few nearby spots.

In between the second or maybe third spot check, one of those windows revealed something special. Hidden just behind a dense group of trees and shrubs along the shore was a reeling left, with only a couple of guys out. Having left from central Oregon in the early afternoon, the daylight hours were running out. Between the pressure of nightfall, and the opportunistic glimpse he just saw, he turned around and whipped into a small gravel parking lot.

The view from the lot was much better, and significantly more motivating. He felt his heart rate rise as he unloaded the board and threw on his wetsuit, pausing for moments to watch unridden waves peel through. By now the sun was resting on the horizon. Without a moment to spare, he danced down the rocky bluff and dove into the water.

He only got three waves in that session. But that was all he needed. He did not perform any impressive maneuvers or attempt any technical tricks. The waves he got were not any of the better ones rolling through. But he had gotten what he came for, so he called it after the third one. There was still enough light to surf by the time he went in. Regardless of the lack of notability, each wave was deeply engrained in his memory.

Similar to the brief glimpses of the ocean he got while driving, each wave allowed him to peak at the relationship he once had. It was enough for him to turn around the style and motivation with which he was living, and stop to restore the relationship he once had. It may have been intentional, but leaving after only three waves left his thirst unquenched. He was left with a desire for more, and anticipation of what was to come.

He found himself replaying the views that each moment held on the waves that night. And for the first time in a long time, he found himself looking forward to more of it again the next day, regardless of who was in the water or what the conditions may bring.