Tonight I floated at Linda Mar in a fog. I mean real fog – a thick cloud hugging the water – but the weather made my brain foggy, too, like I was surfing in a restless dream.
Waves rolled out of the mist, but I couldn’t read their size or contour. The beach was back there, somewhere, but no telling how far. Gray sky, gray water. The only thing I could see clearly was other surfers, a muddled line of them that extended north and south until they ghosted away.
The only way to orient myself was the Taco Bell restaurant on the beach, which was invisible except for its orange sodium-vapor deck lights. The Taco Bell seemed to float, too, like a visiting ship.
The water and air were about the same temperature, low 50s, and I shivered and reminded myself that I need to buy a new wetsuit, one that doesn’t leak.
As the dusk fell and my core temperature continued its downward creep, I headed for shore, got in warm clothes and picked up a couple of warm chicken Chalupas from the U.S.S. Taco Bell.
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