East Coast...Fuck You

Skateboarding on the East Coast has long been one of the main reasons some of the areas best skaters head west, if not for long winters but for a permanent vacation. The winters in the Northeast can be brutal and before the dawn of some indoor parks, it’s been a down right treacherous affair.

Now, at least, there are enough indoors parks, within a fair driving distance, to get in your required work during the winter. For those who are not lucky enough to head west or even south for the winter, hibernation sets in.

East Coast Surfers, during the winter months, have a far more interesting dilemma: no indoor surf.

I grew up on the Jersey shore watching my friends compete in surf contests up and down the coast.
My respect for surfing comes, in part, from the fact that I just don’t do it very well, but mostly because of what they have to endure. Even when the waves are good, there is no guaranteeing the other conditions will be favorable for surfing. Winds, currents and most of all, extreme cold

The nature of their sport transforms them to live like volunteer firemen. Hurry up and wait. Wait for the rides; wait for the storm, pray for waves. Up early, out late. Always ready to answer the call.

Time has a way of slowing down out here in the winter, patiently waiting for epic surf days.

One such day took place this week in South Jersey in a town called Harvey Cedars. The event was the 2nd Annual Clam Jam. I arrived fashionably late at about 4pm and quickly took refuge in the Pine Gallery’s booth. Bunkered down with 3 walls to block the whipping winds and enough Lagers to last until the after party, I witnessed some of the toughest, bad ass surfing in a long time. The waves were overhead, the wind was fierce and the heats were long and grueling.

The surfers in the finals had probably surfed somewhere between six to eight heats since the early morning. it was approaching 6 p.m. , the sun was starting to set and still they were running back up the beach, against the wind to establish position and paddle out.

As each surfer passed, the cheering, heavily layered, blanket covered crowd, screamed as loud as they could during the 30 minute final.

This was truly a roots event, in a roots town and being a part of it all, reinforces my pride in the East Coast; in New Jersey.

So, cheers to the organizers, the sponsors, the crazy MC, the people who lined the beach and, most of all, to the surfers.