The Beginning is the scariest part, with the drop over the sucking-out ledge sublimating beyond steep to concave, giving it an essence of impossibility. At this point, you get out what you put in: the harder you paddle and stroke and the less you let fear inhibit you, the easier getting over that initial ridge is. Otherwise, it is as they say; hesitation is devastation.
Next comes the set-up, assuming you’ve survived the airdrop intact and poised. Here you’re eyeing what’s next with the most intense intent. Many take this first section after the success of the preceding psychoplunge and release the valve of the pressure-buildup right there on that first stacking aquatic vert-ramp. The more patient prepare for potential pittage that looms ahead, and if they’ve done their homework and found some proper bathymetry as a basis, then their kudos awaits.
For those who have not outrun the power and flow of the raw, enveloping energy that acts as a benevolent guiding force, this next stage is the first of a two-part climax. In rapid-flux motion the wave slows down, stands tall, doubles over, and converts from vertical to vortex. If one has executed the drop with determination and a lack of fear, and then implemented the set-up with poise and patience, the chips fall into place and we find ourselves slipping underneath a hollowed hydraulic avalanche complete with sunlit roof; it is in this space where you’re most likely to hear the sound of the universe.
Having made it this far and stayed this deep, the notion of not making it out alive begins to bubble to the surface of the predestined plan that we’ve tried so arduously to follow. Drawing on the successes of the first three stages, dropping-in, setting-up, and pulling-in, one can muster the temperance necessary to resist the temptation to scurry and flee, and instead continually clasp to that violent fluid force. In this stage, the safest way to avoid disaster is to position oneself spatially so that one may be able to follow an ever-evolving inclination, and essentially become close enough to the brutal energy to deliver a passionate kiss. Reward for hanging tough comes in the form of being OOOMPHED out of the pinching oval shack by the power of the spit, concluding the climax with the latter feeling representing the most paramount of satisfaction, comparable only to the ascension of Cloud 9.
The Epic Cycle is on the verge of completion, however the last step requires making that oh-so-graceful exit stage left. If one has properly embraced the insecurity of the chucking lips, then the speed gained by the spit-out gives the kick-out a level of style that is not attainable with a shoddy departure. In one seamless motion, the epic wave ends just as it began, with the rider positioned horizontal to the Earth.
If you died tomorrow, would this be your story?
Next comes the set-up, assuming you’ve survived the airdrop intact and poised. Here you’re eyeing what’s next with the most intense intent. Many take this first section after the success of the preceding psychoplunge and release the valve of the pressure-buildup right there on that first stacking aquatic vert-ramp. The more patient prepare for potential pittage that looms ahead, and if they’ve done their homework and found some proper bathymetry as a basis, then their kudos awaits.
For those who have not outrun the power and flow of the raw, enveloping energy that acts as a benevolent guiding force, this next stage is the first of a two-part climax. In rapid-flux motion the wave slows down, stands tall, doubles over, and converts from vertical to vortex. If one has executed the drop with determination and a lack of fear, and then implemented the set-up with poise and patience, the chips fall into place and we find ourselves slipping underneath a hollowed hydraulic avalanche complete with sunlit roof; it is in this space where you’re most likely to hear the sound of the universe.
Having made it this far and stayed this deep, the notion of not making it out alive begins to bubble to the surface of the predestined plan that we’ve tried so arduously to follow. Drawing on the successes of the first three stages, dropping-in, setting-up, and pulling-in, one can muster the temperance necessary to resist the temptation to scurry and flee, and instead continually clasp to that violent fluid force. In this stage, the safest way to avoid disaster is to position oneself spatially so that one may be able to follow an ever-evolving inclination, and essentially become close enough to the brutal energy to deliver a passionate kiss. Reward for hanging tough comes in the form of being OOOMPHED out of the pinching oval shack by the power of the spit, concluding the climax with the latter feeling representing the most paramount of satisfaction, comparable only to the ascension of Cloud 9.
The Epic Cycle is on the verge of completion, however the last step requires making that oh-so-graceful exit stage left. If one has properly embraced the insecurity of the chucking lips, then the speed gained by the spit-out gives the kick-out a level of style that is not attainable with a shoddy departure. In one seamless motion, the epic wave ends just as it began, with the rider positioned horizontal to the Earth.
If you died tomorrow, would this be your story?
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