Where The Real Waves Were

If you asked the average kook, you'd come away with the impression that the only place that waves ever break in Northeast Ohio is The Cove.

At least it seems like that, judging from the inordinate number of boards in the water surfing crappy waves all day at Edgewater.

So where were the real waves?





The Janitor didn't know. . .





The String Monkey didn't know. . .





It seems even Marcos didn't know.





Why are these men laughing?





Because they did know.





So instead of patting yourself on the back and thinking you got yourself a good day of surf, consider the possibility that waves break elsewhere, even on a North, and when you see the big boys pack-up their boards and drive away when you think there's still surf, they probably aren't going home to take a nap.

Cover Photo: The Rod, in all his magnificence, hung-over, and half-stoned, and still showing more style than any mere mortal has a right to possess.

(not so) Big Wednesday

Charlie don't surf.



Did you know that Fidel Castro surfs? Now you do.



Snakes in the water.



Watch out, Marcos... he's looking at your butt!



Look out, Neil! You're next!



Dude... she's way too young for you.



Stevel Knievel and his signature cut-back.

Where We Left Off...

It's only fair: The Surf Gods cheated us last year. What we looked forward to as a possibly Epic Winter thanks to La Nina, turned out to be another Cleveland disappointment, with The Lake freezing over, almost as if it was some kind of sadistic X-mas present intended to make one feel even worse about being a Clevelander.

If that's possible.

But now strange things seem to be happening for a late February. The Lake ice, which we might expect to be with us well into March, seems to be melting and breaking-up.




Is it possible? Surf for March? We at The Sewer Pipe won't make any grand predictions: Stick your weather models up your ass, NOAA; don't you know the End Times are near?

But we will offer a sacrifice this Saturday at the 4th Annual Smash Day, by burning alive the current issue of Surfer Magazine, in the hope that it will appease the mighty Lake Gods, and bring us what we have longed for for so long, that it all seems like a half-remembered dream.

Some scenes from not the last session, but the last session that we here at The Sewer Pipe didn't throw the film straight from light table and into the garbage can. We've been saving them for you, just in case by this time you might have forgotten what a fun day at The Sewer Pipe was like:

The Clean-up Crew

It shouldn't be, but it happens. Sometimes, even though you think you got them all - even after an Epic Day like yesterday's Epic Sunday - a few waves slip through the cracks, and are still waiting to be ridden the next morning.

That's a job for the Clean-up Crew, Marcus, Stevie, and Joel, who while you were still sleeping, or on your way to work this morning, made sure that no wave was left behind.

Prelude

Doesn't anyone know how to read a forecast, anymore? If you want to be in your best shape for Sunday's expected first nice NE of the year, you have to make the qualifying session, which was held this morning.

No Mikey, showing-up at Noon to surf the slop that Marcus and Newbomb left you does not count as a qualifying session.

Just scroll down and you'll see what happens when you don't show-up for the game: the damn kite boarders take over our beach.

Splash