Clean Up Set

Ritualism
By Nathan Myers
He stood there staring at the waves for nearly 20 minutes. Dudes were pulling up and paddling straight out. But this guy was timing sets, studying the crowd, sprinkling sand into the wind.

He removed his board from its fin sock, sat on the curb and began scraping off the wax. When he was finished, he wiped the board with a moist towel and began the careful task of waxing back up. Base coat first. Tail to nose. Nose to tail. Slow, careful circles. Meticulous, even-spaced beads.

He tightened his fins. Checked his tail pad, his leash, his rails. Then he set the board carefully in the shade and covered it with a towel. Time for sunscreen. Vertra for the face. White slather everywhere else. Behind the kneecaps. Between the fingers. He even had a flat neoprene strap to rub in the hard-to-reach spot on his back. After stowing the sunscreen, he held a t-shirt under a faucet, rang it out and put it on wet.

Out comes the first aid kit. He holds a tiny reef cut on his foot under the faucet. Dries it. Applies Chinese Medicine. Band-aid. And then tapes over the whole situation. He runs a quick series of strength and flexibility tests on his work. Satisfied.

Now the stretching. Deep knee bends. Toe touchers. Torso twists. Arm rotations. Everything slow, counted and are-you-fucking-kidding-me careful. He’s staring at the surf. Sniffing the wind. Gathering his mojo. Honing his chi. And now he’s ready.

He waxes the tops of his feet. Secures and strength-checks his leash. Then jogs down the steps to the water’s edge.

His car door is wide open. Keys dangling from the ignition.