…or your nanny or your maid or whoever picks up after you ordinarily, and you’re here to enjoy the scenery, and to partake in the pleasure of the many activities offered by the mountains and the lakes and streams and the extended fingers of the Pacific Ocean; could you please consider the possibility of packing out the shit you bring in?

Consider consideration.

MEANWHILE, I am still thinking about how to address a recent incident in the water in which I bailed on a wave because an impact with someone in the impact zone was imminent. From a different vantage point, on the beach rather than on the wave (mine), my board may have come in contact with the surfer in front of me. If so, I was totally unaware. That surfer and I, again from the beach angle had words. True. We did. I did say he should have paddled around. It’s a point/reef break, and paddling around is easily done. I have a loud voice, and no, I wasn’t thrilled. He did say something, and I did apologize. The apology was for being angry in the first place as, again, I was totally unaware of any contact. He seemed all right with that and we both paddled back out (and around).

Someone did tell me, a bit later the same day, that my board had hit someone. “No, no it didn’t.”

I’m still not sure. What is most important, or telling, to me, is that my impression of the day was very upbeat, very positive. This is the schizoid nature of life. When, two days later, I was told that my board may have, indeed, hit this other surfer, I was sick about it. And, of course, the other surfer is someone well known on the Strait. Of course.

I have tried to reach out to the individual, have contacted people who may have access, all pressing the point that I tried to avoid any potentially damaging contact with another surfer. Not worth it. In my years of surfing I have been hit by other people’s boards several times. I’ve also bailed or straightened out on waves I might have otherwise made.

BUT, hoping to put this behind me, I do pack out my own stuff. The last thing I left at the beach, or near it, was a wetsuit that I’d evidently left on top of my car when I took off.

PLEASE, access has already been cut off to numerous camping sites and surf spots; please consider bringing and using a trash bag. And, again, sorry, Mike.