As
soon as I was presented with the task of finding another story, I knew that I would
be covering the upcoming tropical storms that would be providing New Hampshire with
waves (and me with happiness) for days. My roommate and I have been restlessly
checking the tropical outlook and buoy readings for any signs of life for the
past few weeks, and the possibility of good surf made it hard to think about
anything else. A wave-deprived surfer is like a smoker who hasn’t seen a
cigarette in days and will stop at nothing to fulfill their fiendish desire for
a lungful of black smoke. My wave-withdrawal symptoms have been in full effect,
and the idea of writing a news story about surfing is the “nicotine patch” that’s
keeping me going. It may not seem like news to most people, but to me, it was
the light at the end of the tunnel.
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