In a jet lagged daze I lay in the bed after waking up at 5am Northwest time, (8am Maine time), eating breakfast and then falling back to sleep. Despite being 3,000 miles from my typical place of slumber, I reached over to my iPhone in my standard morning routine and flicked through the apps. After reading my emails and Twitter, I eventually thumbed the Magic Seaweed application out of desperation to rationalize staying in bed for a few more minutes.
Instantly I jumped up from my semi-catatonic slumber into a state of hysteria. As an enthusiastic rider of Maine waves, I check Magic Seaweed daily and usually see numbers an order of magnitude smaller than the ones I was looking at for the Oregon coast. Like a six year old on Christmas morning I rushed down the stairs, grabbed my camera, car keys, and a wool jacket and headed to the Portland Airport to pick up my dad and then head to the coast in search of waves and rain.
An hour and a half later, I hopped out of my dad's 4Runner and scurried towards the lookout like a kid at the ball pit at McDonald's.
From 300 feet up and roughly half a mile away these waves looked more like an avalanche on the Discovery channel than things people ride for fun.
We headed back to the car as the drops of rain fell on our backs. As soon as we got in the car and cranked on the heater, large hailstones started pinging off of the windshield. Our timing couldn't have been better.