It is a place where we live out our dreams of the future and remember dear friends we have lost. As I power-ride across town, the frigid air bites at my skin sending chills down my spine. Random locals wave and beep their horns. I approach West Cliff and my heart races as I see the lines of swells rolling in to Cowell's Beach. The breeze whispers offshore and the low tide is rising.
Perfect waves peel through Indicators and barrel in front of the landmark surf statue.
The waves are pumping . I toss my bike at the Lane stairs and sprint out to the point. Running to the cliff's edge, my body pulses with anticipation. I skip down the slippery rock surface in view of the basking sea lions. Standing on the furthest reach of land, I glance out at the vast horizon.