Some Older Photos

Maine.

Nova Scotia.

G'd Up.

I don’t do cities. Which is why I go to school in rural Canada. Wolfville Nova Scotia, while endearing, is not exactly a bastion of urban culture. Honestly, the closest it gets to the big time is its affectionate nickname: Wolfvegas.

Last week, however, I made the trek down to the Big Apple for a visit. NYC is a rather arresting place no matter the context, but for me it was more than overwhelming in comparison to my school-year home in Wolfville. With only a two-day, buffer-zone of a stay in my home state of Maine, the immediate sensory assault of New York felt a bit like stepping into the Atlantic in February.

Because this blog is about more than just surfing, I thought I’d share a little about the trip. It marks the beginning of our summer, and despite the lack of surfing, captures the essence of our purpose – perspectives and places, with a sprinkling of wave riding sliding alongside.

Here’s a shot from the trip, which I liked for no reason in particular:
Note: I meant to make it into Mollusk, where they seem to be doing some really nifty things, but it never happened. Maybe next time…