In certain seasons, less can be much more.
Looking back over the last ten years, I think about seasons when there were already plenty of decisions to make. Starting a new job. Beginning a family. Moving to a new place. During those times, deciding which board to ride was one decision I chose not to make.
There are seasons when there's plenty of mental bandwidth to experiment with new boards, try different fin setups, and obsess over equipment. But there are other seasons when surfing becomes something different. Less of a puzzle to solve and more of a meditation. A way to clear your mind rather than fill it with more questions.
The beauty of life is that it's lived in seasons.
Some seasons are a three-board quiver. Others are a single-board quiver.
Studies have shown that kids given fewer toys often become more creative. I think there's a similar lesson in surfing. Riding one board for an extended period forces you to explore more possibilities. Instead of wondering which board is right for the conditions, you start figuring out how to make your board work in the conditions.
You spend less time thinking about equipment and more time thinking about where to surf, how to position yourself, and how to approach a wave. You become more creative with the board you have rather than searching for a different one.
I remember paddling out on days that were bigger than I would have preferred for that board. But because I knew it so well, I could catch waves earlier and with more confidence. Some of those sessions ended up producing the best waves I've ever had.
The routine became simple. Wake up, check the surf, grab the same board, and go.
Some days it was one-to-two feet and junky. Other days it was four-to-six feet and firing. It turned out the board was fun in all of it.
Reducing decisions wherever possible can be a gift during seasons when the rest of life is demanding more of your mental bandwidth.
For me, that season was spent on a 7'6" Pleasant Pheasant.
Long enough to catch small waves at Doheny. But step back toward the tail and it could handle surprisingly good surf, drawing clean lines and laying into turns when the waves showed up.
What started as a compromise became a reminder: sometimes the freedom we're looking for isn't found in having more options.
It's found in having fewer.
