Could it be? My Christmas wish for an Epic Nor’easter may just come true! I’ll be a happy boy if that happens.
Twas the night before the Epic Christmas storm, when all through the house
Not a sailor was stirring, not even rat boy Dave Coyle.
The gear was packed in the windsurfing Van with care,
In hopes that Gale force winds soon would be there.
Each of us was nestled all snug in our beds,
While visions of big jumps and forwards danced in our heads.
And Kellar with his Promotion, and I my Mystic Force,
Had just settled in for a restless night of anticipation.
When out In the yard there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
Away to the porch I flew like a flash,
Tore open the screen door, and threw up the blinds.
The early morning sunrise on the top of water
Gave the view of something stirring on the surface of the pond below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But texture and then white caps, and a lot of wind shear.
With a Northwest Gale, so strong and gusty,
I knew in a moment Dave Coyle wouldn’t be rusty.
More rapid than Marines we got dressed for dawn patrol,
and I began to whistle, and shout, and started talking incoherently.. Semper Fi!
"Will it be 4.7?! Or 4.2?! Or perhaps 3.7?!!!
Will I get to ride the RRD Wave Thruster!? Or, Wave Cult Quad!? or Free Style Wave!?
To the bottom of the steps! Then out into the garage!
Now get in the van! Its time to roll!!"
As small pets and lawn furniture that before a wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with my 3.7 storm sail and I fly up into the sky.
So out into the garage we did flew,
With the van full of full gear, and Ken Kellar too.
And then, as we backed out, out of the garage an onto route one
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the road to the Secret Spot we did bound.
From head to foot, we were already decked out in full battle dress,
although still tarnished with dried sea salt and sand form the last sesh.
All of our gear, we brought every piece ,
Cuz you don’t wanna forget anything, or else you might miss it and end up sitting on the beach.
We arrived at the beach, our eyes-how wide open and big!
It was nukin, the seas were building, it was time to rig!
The call was my 3.7, which was still rolled up like a bow,
And the board of choice was as my new 2011 RRD Wave Cult Quad Limited Edition, dont ya know
I spoke not a word, but went straight to rigging my sail,
And tweaking the downhaul just that little extra bit
And feeling that satisfying connection of rig to board, I was ready to hit the water
So gave my mystic force the final zip
I hopped on the board, then sheeted my sail,
And away I flew like supersonic jet right off the beach.
and I heard Ken exclaim, as we passed each out in the shipping lanes,
"Sheet in, extend you front arm, and look over your shoulder dude, that’s my advice to you!"