One of the first places I lived in New York was the tippy-top of Manhattan, Inwood, served by the A train. It’s the longest one-seat subway line–32 miles–in the New York subway system and it starts in Inwood and runs to the farthest outreaches of Queens and somewhere in that (then, to me) distant borough, it splits, going either to the prosaically named Lefferts Boulevard (named for the farmer who owned that land) or to the romantic sounding Far Rockaways. For years I’ve meant to go there and surf. Finally, yesterday, despite all the warnings about Hermine, my 14-year-old and I did just that. We drove–but you can take the A of course, to the 67th Street stop, which is just two blocks from the sea! The waves were perfect little two-footers, (I grew up on inland ponds that were cold, but no waves), the water warmer than the air and lots of power. Adding to it all, jets from all over the world zooming over our heads to land at JFK, just to the north of us.
And, it turns out that Dylan, our extremely knowledgable instructor from the Local Surf School, does films for his day job! Kinda handy to have a surf instructor who shoots and teaches!