Monday, July 30, 2012

Until the Light Washes Out


As the sun runs toward the horizon so do quirky, bizarre women posing by the surf for that perfect backlit yoga pose for their new facebook wallpaper. Along side of them are two middle aged cunts, one owning this Chihuahua which whimpered and yacked in a cocoon of black sweaters. Then there are the droves of 9-5 surfers who have been cooped up all day in their cubicle waiting to unleash all their pent up aggression on a knee high wave or any poor soul that gets in the way a slashing cut back. 

And lastly there is me, who has already surfed during "Gentlemen’s Hours", between 11am and 3:30pm and now has migrated back to the beach to hunt the ghosts of the surf, the ever elusive and hard to catch Corbina. A fish of a thousand casts—wading out in heavy beach break in anticipation of my line going tight and feeling that explosive first run. Then the light washes out behind the breakers…


surf fishing photos : : Casey Allred and Scott Wyss

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