The barbecue debate rages on, and, well, that’s just fine. It’s an easy way to distinguish friends from acquaintances. But you’re ignoring the facts – probably even drinking unsweet tea – if you don’t believe South Carolina to be the birthplace of barbecue.

I’ve surfed all sorts of boards this week. From eggs to long boards to shorties. But I finally found the stick I want to keep forever. A sweet little fish that compliments my abilities and confidence level. Basically, I’m able to catch anything my gut can handle. Costa Rica is not the east coast washing machine I’m used to surfing. These waves are relentless. Big and powerful, and in abundance — I’ve seen hundreds in just a few hours.

I’ve met several surfers start their day by hitting the water. I can’t help but to think they have things pretty well figured out. I’m not a complainer and I have a pretty sweet life. But, damn, it’s hard not to be a touch jealous.

It’s hard to leave, but I know I’ll be back. Little Charlie and Asa have to learn to surf, after all.

by matt berger for blahblah blah