Easy Like Sunday Morning

"Is this the Rockaway Beach of The Ramones? I thought it was in Queens...". We're not sure, but anyway the shoreline is tricky, so Auste and I carry on cruising to Pacifica. Normally, this place would be shrouded in fog. And not just in these winter months, but pretty much year round. But this morning it's clear as a bell. 

And by 8am on a Sunday, the beach is full of surfers. There are neat sets of friendly rollers coming in. This isn't the "Locals Only" terrain I've seen on the shores of the Atlantic, in the Basque Country and parts of France. You'd almost think they're all part of the same fraternity for the friendly vibe. 

Fuelled with a big tankard of Caboose coffee and in my wetsuit, I'm toasty in the cold Pacific, though not really awake until the first dunking. Winter water is like a high voltage electric shock when your head goes under. 

Without booties, soon my feet are numb, so we park ourselves on the beach to watch and enjoy the warming sun. Then go back for a few more rides. 

I'm reassured to see so many longboarders, and so many of them even older than me. And I love these beaches in California, that make me feel almost like I know what I'm doing in the water. How cool would it be to live in a place where you could go surfing before work? 

Coffee on the rocks, Rockaway Beach