Finest Kind

They may not be big, but damn, they are cold. Anyone who has ventured into the water in Maine in August can tell you that, without exaggeration, if asked about the waves. True, Maine is not nationally known for its record breaking waves, but it does have a core group of men and women who put on the wetsuits and paddle out every month of the year. And you can bet these folks are hearty....The ocean temp barely breaks out of the 50s in the southern part of the state--even at the height of summer. There is really only one word for that--dedication. This photo is my background at work and it comes from my good friends at BeerMe.

I recently had two minor encounters with the surfing community in my home state. First, I happened to be reading my newest edition of Down East Magazine and was interested to hear how people described the "real Maine". This seems to be a point of contention in almost any context from politics to sports fans. In a state that is so dynamic, in its own way, there are certainly as many definitions as there are "the best way to get there from here".

[Side note: I still do not care to hear what Martha Stewart's idea of the "real Maine" is, and, I suspect the real folks of Mount Desert Island do not care to, either...and yes, she was asked.]

Various Dirigo State icons, from Stephen King to Don McLean to Susan Collins to Shelly Pingree to Thomas Moser (some of you may even have some of his cabinets in your summer homes). I agreed with all of their definitions, and then I came to the words of Seth Wescott, Olympic Gold Medalist in Snowboardcross. He said that his idea of "real Maine" is having breakfast at Becky's Diner in Portland. He went on to say that if he was there, it probably meant he had been out surfing in the early hours of daylight.

The second run-in I had with this rugged community came by way of national television and the great state of Delaware. Being a beer enthusiast, (which is a nice way to say that I drink more pints than I probably should, but my wife is nice enough to keep up the euphemism) I was watching Brewmasters on Discovery. Sam, at Dogfish Head, received a package of Northern White Cedar scraps from the guys at Grain Surfboards in York, Maine. They make incredibly beautiful, hand-made surfboards from locally grown wood and they generate a minute amount of waste. Needless to say, a beer brewed with cedar shavings tantalizes the taste buds of such an enthusiast.

Though I do not surf, I connected with these ideas of realness. I could relate to everything this community encompasses. First, no one could have gone to Sugarloaf in the last 12 years without knowing who Seth Wescott was, but it was more than that shared place of recreation and solace. There is something about being in a local diner--especially one on the water--early in the morning. The coffee is always good, even when it's not. There is a lively bustle inside and out. There is something almost classically romantic about watching fishermen go out to sea. And there is something about getting up earlier than you normally would to go to work to go out and do something you love. The feeling is really indescribable. For me, it was never surfing, rather going to mountains of Western Maine or the hiking trails of Acadia National Park.

Second, no matter what part of the state from which a person may hail, there is no shortage of entrepreneurship. If I were asked to describe the mentality of Maine, it would have to be 'do-it-yourself'. My father, grandfather, and uncles did almost everything themselves. From framing walls and building houses, to changing oil and car repair, there was no need to ever really look outside one's own bloodline. The women were no exception. I am pretty sure that until I graduated from high school, at least one article of clothing in every drawer was either made or altered by my mother, grandmother, or various aunts and cousins....and don't forget the 'jams' of the late 1980s. But it goes beyond that. I had the privilege of being a part of a do-it-yourself business that was born out of a hobby and a desire to make something that was real and true to our idea of what it should be. I am proud to say that one of my best and dearest friends has taken that idea and that initial bit of primitive machinery and turned it into a viable business. TeamEight Snowboards of Portland, Maine is offering something that no one else is.

There is a spirit that is not only reflected in products and words of these folks, but also contained in everything they do. Nothing is more real that building something with your own hands and having that be valued by those around you. Surfers and snowboarders are both members of tight-knit communities (though there is still always a level of realness that fluctuates, depending on the members--and that is always open for discussion)

I guess it all boils down to a sense of community and a sense of belonging. Though you may look different, believe in different spiritual beings, listen to different music, hell, even have totally different value structures, when you step onto the freshly groomed snow, paddle out into the early morning break, drive that first nail when you can still see your breath, or sit down to coffee in flannel and blaze orange before heading out into the deep woods, all is forgotten. The only thing that matters is the task at hand, the shard experience, the common goal.

So, no matter where you may be from, no matter what you may do for fun or for a living, there are constants. People, ultimately, desire the same things--they just take different forms. Always be on the look-out for, and seek to find what makes you whole--all things, finest kind.

*photo credit: Lee Cullivan (by way of BeerMe)