Would you consider your lifestyle luxurious? I mean, if you really took it apart, dissecting where you live, what you drive, what sort of coffee you drink, the BeachGrit shirt you are wearing right now (buy here) would it be considered opulent by the vast majority of the world’s population?
I think yes for all of us and especially because we are surfers, the new skiers shushing, driving Audis with fancy Swedish rack systems, vacationing in St. Moritz etc. and let us go straight to the luxury lifestyle magazine Condé Nast Traveller for a look at the hot new trend sweeping the upper-middle-to-upper classes.
Well this isn’t so bad, I think as I step into the dark, frigid water. New Hampshire in February is known for its heavy snowfall, “Nor’Easter” storms, and ski resorts of the ice-clad, teeth chattering variety. But somehow I’ve found myself surfboard in hand, marching straight into the North Atlantic. As I wade chest-deep into the water, I develop a mantra to reassure myself: I’m still warm. Snow flurries float just above the water. I’m still warm.
I pass a few waves with ease before I get caught off guard by a much larger wave crashing down around me. That’s when it hits me, literally and figuratively: This is New Hampshire in February. The sea slaps me square in the face, my only exposed skin, and at 39°F it might as well be solid ice. A few rogue streams of cold water sneak their way into my thick wetsuit through the hood, trickling slowly down my neck. It’s back-bending agony, but my body recovers and I’m able to keep paddling. I’m still warm, I tell myself.
Out on the water that day, the remarkable thing wasn’t that I found some of the most surfable, enjoyable waves I’ve found anywhere. It was that I wasn’t alone.
Can you believe?
Winter surfing as new skiing?
Where shall we head to toast Hot Toddys and laugh about our investment portfolios?