A failure. Photo: Peter Taras
Get rich quick.
It’s an ideal that weaves in and out of the American fabric like cross beams on a white picket fence. A little bit of effort birthing a whole lot of profit? You’d have a hard time finding a signature that doesn’t want a piece of that dotted line. It’s why the Powerball is so high right now. And I suppose it’s why I tried acid dropping into a wave in my underwear yesterday.
I’ve already accepted the fact that I won’t win that damn Powerball (Question: Does The Universe or whatever do the whole reverse psychology thing? Any shamans and/or caucasian women wearing crystals out there reading this?) So I’ve decided to invest my little bit of effort elsewhere — namely, the Stance Bounty contest.
To celebrate the unveiling of their new underwear line, Stance is giving away $25K to the person who gets the wildest in their undies. It’s a twelve week contest that just reached its halfway point. After scouting the winners from the first six weeks (you can watch them via the link above), I realized the money could be mine if only I could acid drop into a wave.
My first idea was to do it off a pier. Simple, right? I wouldn’t have to worry about clearing anything and I’d have the advantage of a flexible jump-off point. Problem is, hucking oneself off a pier is illegal and the contest terms and conditions state that all entries must be within the bounds of law. Well then. I had to find something that isn’t built and owned by the state.
SURFING’s Peter Taras knew of a craggy, bird-stained behemoth in Orange County. So we drove up and I gave it a shot. A shot consisted of:
-Paddling out in 60 degree water in underwear
-Finding a place to climb up
-Getting bashed into the rocks by a steady flow of waves while trying to get up there
-Realizing I should have worn booties because I couldn’t get my footing and had a good few feet of rocks to clear
-Failing like a little bitch
Here’s the end result. It pisses me off.
It looks like I kicked my board away. That wasn’t a conscious decision — maybe my stupid instincts thought it would give me more leverage to not die on the rocks? I don’t know. But like I said, I felt like a little bitch and I needed another try.
I paddled back out, but only ended up treading water for a while waiting for an opportunity to climb back up the rocks (I had to shove the board up the rocks first, then wait for a window that was safe enough for an animate being…it was one of those Lib Tech Mayhem collabs and let me tell you, those ads don’t lie — they can truly can take a beating). The window never came. And there’s only so much cold water a man in underwear can take. The board eventually washed down and I caught a wave in, a shivering failure.
But this war isn’t over. It’s only just begun. I learned some things yesterday. I know what I need to make this work — two beers, a shot of whiskey, higher tide, a different swell angle, some booties and a wetsuit top if the lords of Stance deem that to be fair. I’ll be back to that rock and I will use it to get rich quick.
Unless, dear reader, you think of something to top my efforts and steal my small fortune. Shall we dance?