Carretera de la costa. VII
A poca distancia del centro de la playa, un pico de olas recogía el retorno del agua por sus laterales. La entrada se indicaba sobre la superficie. La silueta de la espuma dibujaba una línea serpenteante que avanzaba hacia el mar. La contemplación del vivo océano interrumpió nuestro calentamiento, por un instante no hubo mayor disfrute. Las ondas llegaban en serie, el sonido retumbaba en la pared del acantilado y envolvía, junto con la brisa, todo aquel espacio. Dani señalaba a a la izquierda y comentaba sus opciones, Irne y yo mirábamos al frente absorbidos por el espectáculo.
La entrada al agua chocaba contra el ritmo cardíaco que acelerado respondía al deseo de conocer aquellos trayectos.
La tempratura, aún baja, activo el calor dentro del traje. Remando con pausa fuimos avanzando en hilera. Una nueva serie llegaba. Conforme fuimos sorteando las olas, el área empezó a despejarse. Una zona de confort apareció ante nosotros. Movimientos de cabeza y risas, antes de la próxima oleada. Durante un pequeño tiempo el nivel del mar se estabilizó. Otros surfers iban llegando a la playa, rompiendo el silencio que habito por un instante. Mientras hablábamos, el agua se hundió detrás nuestro. A cincuenta metros nació la primer ola. Descendimos y la pared que se fue formando ocultó el resto de ondas que seguían a esta. Irne, situado en mejor posición, comenzó a remar lateralmente. La onda crecía a medida que corría hacia nosotros. Desplazado sobre ella consiguió erguirse para bajar por su cara. Un brazo se abrió y curvo hacia la derecha. Continuó su viaje, zigzageando a media altura de la onda. La distancia lo perdió sobre una masa de agua que cayó a bloque.
Coast Highway. VII
At few distance of the center of the beach, a beak of waves was gathering the return of the water for its wings. The entry was indicated on the surface. The silhouette of the foam was drawing an irregular line that was advancing towards the sea. The contemplation of the alive ocean interrupted our warming, for an instant there was no major enjoyment. The waves were coming in series, the sound was resounding in the wall of the cliff and was wrapping, together with the breeze, all that space. Dani was indicating to the left side and was commenting on his options, Irne and I were looking at the front, absorbed by the spectacle.
The access to the water was hitting against the pace cardiac that accelerated was answering to the desire to know those distances. The temprature, still low, activated the heat inside the suit. Swimming with pause we were advancing in row. A new series was coming. As we were avoiding the waves, the area started clearing up. A comfort zone appeared in front of us. Nods and laughs, before the next wave. For a short time the sea level stabilized. Other surfers were coming to the beach, breaking the silence that dwell for a moment. As we talked, water sank behind us. At fifty meters was born the first wave. We descended and the wall that was formed concealed the rest of waves that were following this one. Irne placed in better position, began to resea laterally. The wave was growing as it was running towards us. Displaced on it managed to be raised, to go down for its face. An arm was opened and curved towards the right. He continued his trip, zigzageando to half a height of the wave. The distance lost him on a water mass that fell in block.
