Dane’s Not Going Down Without A Fight

Slowly but surely, Father Time is coming for you.

Every athlete’s youth fades at different rates. Some lose their spring from single, catastrophic knee/ankle injuries. For others, the process is drawn out over many years. All athletes, even the greats, eventually come to the hard realization that the same vessel that carried them to the mountaintop is failing them on the way down, and that sucks.

Dane Reynolds is one of our sport’s modern greats, and thankfully he has yet to tip the scales of biology and time. His surfing is as electric as ever, he has a beautiful family, his own company, and what is sure to be a long and incredibly happy life ahead. All of the things listed above are the reasons why it’s sobering to hear that Dane too has accepted his inevitable fate (see below).

But for a moment (or eight), please, allow the above clip to remind you how lucky you were to be born at roughly the same time as prime Dane Reynolds. The man’s done it all but is still committed to bringing you backside blowtails from Emma Wood on a semi-regular basis, and for that, we should be thankful.

One things for certain: Dane could be riding a 14 ft tie-dye glider ripping Sage out of a grav-bong while doing the macarena, I still wouldn’t burn him at Rincon.

Read his words on the above clip below.

Sometimes I feel ridiculous driving around checking waves. Checking swell forecast. Checking wind. Checking tide. Rubbing elbows with groms trying to catch a wave to do a trick with someone standing on the beach with a camera to record it. 

Some day I’ll have to hang it up. Stop forcing my fossilized body to pump and thrash and relax into a more soulful manner of riding waves. Maybe buy an old van and burn some sage. Get resin tints and grow a pony tail and wrap it in a bun. Switch to craft beer. Hang up the thruster and glide in from out the back on a 7’6 single fin. I’ll put my arms in the air when I reach the crest of every gently peeling wave. 

But not today. The waves are shit and onshore. After I write this I’m going to clean the wax off my 5’9 square tail epoxy and call Matt to see what he’s doing. He probably won’t pick up. He’ll probably call me back in about 5 minutes and I’ll ask him if he’s seen the ocean and he’ll say no he had a few things he had to take care of but he was thinking about going look at the wood. I’ll say I was thinking the same. I’ve got a sore knee so I’ll roll on a foam thing for like 2 minutes before I get distracted. I’ll hop in my car and head south with a Howard Stern re-run playing from my radio at maximum volume. If it’s a stupid episode I’ll listen to Royal Dog Shit for the 1000th time.

When I pull up Matt will be on his phone. When he gets off his phone he’ll say he’s seen a few. I’ll say yeah looks fun enough for a surf and after all, If it’s shitty we’ll come in. Then we’ll suit up, I’ll ask him how his bitcoin trading is going. He’ll say ‘awwww man not so hot’ and I’ll laugh at his misfortune. The waves will be average but I’ll be able to hit the lip a few times and maybe do an air reverse. Matt will pearl going straight at least once and i will yell “I can’t believe you are still riding that board!” I’ll be happy I surfed. The waves could be good soon and I’ve got a new 6’0 with glass ons that I’m excited to ride.

And for the record. If you ever see me on a set at Rincon throwing my arms in the air on a 7’6 single fin feel free to burn me…