On a beautiful day in May 2017, the early morning crew were nailing it at Cape Kiwanda in Pacific City.
On a stormy day at Seaside, the A-Tem were nailing tough overheads.
On a day with many whales breaching, the Seaside surfers were catching some sloppy waves as the day turned windy in mid-September 2017.
Hunter’s Cove in southern Oregon, a beautiful place.
Shark warning sign at Seaside, August 2017
Port Orford offers a lovely cover for surfing, but not during my visit in August 2017.
Samuel Boardman State Scenic Area
A standup paddleboard surfer at Seaside in June 2017 catches smaller waves.
A spring surfer nailing it at Seaside
Hunter’s Cover in southern Oregon is a beautiful surfing destination.
The sun sets at Humbug Mountain State Park, in southern Oregon.
(Click on each photo to see a larger picture on a separate picture page.)
Rudy Owens on the southern Oregon Coast, August 2017
A year ago this weekend, I became an Oregon surfer. I now feel confident enough to be in the lineup with every other surfer who shares my passion.
In September 2016, I bought a beginner board, the right wet suit, and other gear, and I began the long journey of mastering the art and sport of surfing by travelling from Portland to nearly all surfing spots on the Oregon Coast and even California and Washington.
The journey far exceeded all of my expectations.
I learned how to understand surf forecasting and paid close attention to the storm systems in the Pacific Ocean that control the weather from Alaska all the way down to the tip of Tierra del Fuego. I met people who shared my passion for the ocean and this highly alluring sport. Many of them have lived and surfed all over the world and country, and we all speak the language of surfing. Some are visitors, and others are residents who now call Oregon home. We all come together in the water, waiting for the wave, patiently sitting on our boards and scanning out for the next set rolling in.
I have learned how to read waves and practice the craft of positioning myself at the right place at the right time. In Oregon’s tough, stormy waters, this involves punching through feisty breaks that pound you as you try to reach to lineup in the water, where the waves give you that window of opportunity to tap their energy and capture moments of transcendence.
I have surfed during snowfalls and blinding rainstorms.
I have seen sea otters, harbor seals, humpback whales, and signs warning me of great white sharks that are common in these waters.
I have made new friends who love to wake up at crazy morning hours and meet at the ocean, just to capture the magic of the ocean in the morning, as the smell of saltwater fills your nostrils and the sound of the wares creates a feeling of calm in morning’s first light.
I have also learned how to ride waves during this time. When I started, I could barely get any. Now, when I go out, I can catch sometimes 20 or 30 rides, if the conditions are perfect or near perfect. Even on bad days, I am mastering the art of riding our very common cheeky waves. These can be fun.
Yesterday, on Sept. 16, 2017, I rode perhaps one of the best waves of my life. I started in the lineup at Seaside, near the rocky shore, and grabbed an overhead that took me almost 100 yards to the beach, riding its face and seeing the translucent water carry me on a pulse of energy. My grin grew wider with every second I was steering my 9-foot Stewart longboard.
Now, a year into this journey, I capture each outing with a surf diary, describing the ocean color and smells, currents, sets, wave patterns, colorful characters, my memorable experiences with wildlife and aquatic life, and my memories of the day. As a lifelong writer and journal writer, I can say this is perhaps the funnest journal I have ever kept.