We FUCKING scored.

Hurricane Nicole was well-predicted for a week’s time.  We stared at the forecast for days and it barely changed–hell, it got better!  We tried to calm down; we ran a heavy risk of over-frothing ourselves and did not want to be too disappointed when SwellInfo fucked us over yet again.

However, we did send it.  Shane and I hopped in the car with our camping gear, surfboards and hopes high.  That long weekend we frothed out, camped, surfed, drank beer, surfed more and fell asleep fireside, bellies full of hot dogs and Beefaroni.  Living.