I was all ready to write about the recent Nor Easter that swept through my town. Felt I had to. Couldn’t ignore it. Ready to post about the strange dichotomy the ocean presents. One day, it’s flat as a lake. The next day its waves crash 12-feet high and swallow ships whole. And I was going to write about how surfing has its own dichotomy. You watch the weather forecast as a big storm rolls in. On one hand you’re prepping for damage, securing your house, putting batteries in the flashlights. A sense of fear. On the other hand, you’re figuring out when you’re going to surf, which break makes the most sense, stretching more, checking your board and your leash. A sense of excitement.
But a few days ago, my writing plan got thrown out. The ocean is always blending terror and beauty. This time of year, it’s easier to experience because the much needed tourists have all returned home. Lokal summer. No parking spot battles. No need for dinner reservations. The beach is wide open. Though there are always a few people lounging on the sand, enjoying the continued warmth of the early fall.
A few days ago I had a few minutes to burn and my brain needed a break. The ocean was flatter than a pancake, so I threw my SUP board in my car. Now, the seemingly unending debate about SUP surfing versus surfing is one for another day. My reality is that I love both. I started on a SUP and then picked up longboarding. I still do both and switch based on wave conditions. In Matt George’s book In Deep, there’s an article titled War Party and Matt talks about a SUP surfer in Bali named Bernard “Ben” Panagian. Ben says this about SUP, “‘And being able to stand up on your board is different than sitting on a surfboard. You can see the whole world. You can hear yourself breathe and think clearly. I also think standing up on the sea makes you a friend of the things that live in the sea. I think they understand it more than surfing. And I think it makes you understand the sea in a different way. As a visitor and not a thief.”‘
Not sure how I feel about the thievery aspect of the statement, but I sure as hell know what he’s talking about with the rest. Like I said, I do both. SUP surfing is different from prone surfing in many ways. It works other sets of muscles, especially your core. It forces you to learn balance, though falling while standing is common. But my absolute favorite part of the sport is exactly what Ben spoke of. You get a view of the sea below your feet that is hard to beat and hard to replicate on a longboard.
So a few days ago, I was out in Bay Head off of Howe Street and planned to paddle for 30-minutes. The water was calm and quiet and barely any fish at all. I randomly ran into some friends who were also paddling. While cruising along we talked about just how silent the water was. Clear, turquoise blue. Fishless. We also chatted about how we hadn’t seen a dolphin run in a long, long time. This is when pods migrate up and down the coast. I didn’t care. It was 75 degrees and sunny.
While paddling back, I noticed a spritz of water behind my left shoulder, close enough to catch my eye. So I peered to my left, the beach running parallel to my right. A gray tail flapped up, waved as if saying hello, and then disappeared. One dolphin. Two, three, four dolphin. A dozen. Two dozen. They jumped fully out of the crystal blue water and played, splashing down on their sides. They darted back and forth right in front of me. I looked below my board and watched as a medium sized dolphin swam right underneath me, slightly tilted on its side, like it knew I was up there and just eyeing me back.
It never gets old. That’s not the first time I’d seen dolphin. Won’t be the last. Each time is exhilarating. I felt the rush all weekend. I had no phone with me. No devices recording. Just my board my paddle and a memory. The perfect Lokal Summer moment.
Why am I spelling it Lokal? I’ve been wanting to write about this spot for a while. It’s become a pretty regular haunt. Lokal Brewing Company. At this point I’ve been writing Triple B for two-years. In all my non-professional wisdom, one thing has become clear – the beer matters most. Big brewery. Small brewery. Farm house. Warehouse. The shtick doesn’t matter. People show up if the beer is good. They don’t show up if the beer is crap, when even Applebees is better. Lokal is brewing wondrous, delicious beers of all sorts, not just IPAs. So I’ve been showing up. The interior vibe makes Lokal doubly wondrous. Many breweries are going big. Big spaces, refurbished warehouses with 30-foot ceilings. Big open lots with acres of land for kids and adults to play on. Those are fine. Lokal is like hanging out at your friend’s house. They have a few tables and a few couches and a bar top. Large, stainless steel kettles stand behind the bar like a legion of tin soldiers, holding your favorite elixir. The crowd is lowkey, again like hanging out at your friends house.
There are plenty of options when I get the chance to quickly meet a few friends for a beer. Many of the other places are just fine. But Lokal is as it sounds. It’s a perfect combination of good folks hanging out in a no-fuss atmosphere with great beers. It was their 1-year anniversary last week. They deserve a congrats and I hope to be there for their 5-year.
The Lokal summer is one to enjoy for yourself, even if you’re not local yourself. Slow down. Hide your phone. Hang at the beach. Grab a brew. Who knows what memory will present itself.