Waves? No. Waves in the summer. Never. Well; almost never. I do tell people that if they do a search for surfing on the Strait of Juan de Fuca, they might just find my site.

Now, I have learned not to post names of spots, or photos that reveal exactly where some unnamed spot might be; and I do always stress the fickle nature of the northwest surf, as in, “You’re more likely to get attacked by an aggressive sea lion that score over-knee waves;” but, I did find, and steal these photos from someone else’s two day, mid-summer adventure. The Cloud.

Yeah, I did find some shots of me surfing a secret spot somewhere off the grid. Joking; not about the photos; about the spot. I’m obligated not to name it for various reasons. I’m also not authorized to name the photographer, but do have permission to use them. I’ve decided not to show the shots of me because I put too much sun screen on, and, evidently, it makes me appear kind of chubby.

Chubby?

Here’s the guy, left, who started Lib-tech. I only took off in front of him once.  His wife is in the other two photos.

This is a wave, an eagle, and an unidentified ripper.

This is a super low tide, probably Todd Fischer on a super low tide, former professor, now semi-surfbum, Nick, alias God.

Nick, again, contemplating the variables of tide, swell, wind, lapses of etiquette by chubby old guys with too much sun screen slathered on their chubby faces and heads.

I do have some more photos of people I really don’t know. Maybe I’ll add them.