Ghost Wave

Halloween. Ghosts. Waves? Big, scary waves.

As a cyclist, I can fully appreciate the chasm that separates my performance from that of the pros. I can attack the same hill ... at less than half their speed. I can ski, but you won't find me rocketing down some narrow double-black-diamond chute or dropping out of a helicopter in the back country. I have never tried to surf, but I can extrapolate that a similar gap would separate me from the titans of big wave surfing.

I grew up near the sea. I am comfortable bobbing in the swells and ducking under breaking waves, even body-surfing my way toward the shore. Stand up on a board and ride the face of a breaking wave? No way. Get close to a towering avalanche of water? Absolutely, positively no way.

An armchair adventurer, I relish tales of athletes who thrive on challenges that I would not dream of attempting. Ghost Wave is a fascinating new story that I am finding hard to put down. And I enjoyed a special treat recently when author Chris Dixon visited the Bay Area to talk about the book; a treat that was magnified five-fold by the legendary guys who tagged along.

They completely upended my image of surfers as easy-going, laid-back types. It took me more than half the day to unwind after spending just a couple of hours around those guys. See for yourself ...



You should try paddleboarding, Skindog suggested. [Uh-oh.]