I don’t know why I even owned this book; I think an editor sent it to me, thinking I’d like it, and it just sat on the unread pile for several years — and Lord knows why it got sent to me, since I have never surfed in my life.   But I loved it; I could not put it down.   There is some whiffy la-dee-dah about surfing and the relationship between surfer and sea that’s a bit much, but that’s more than made up for by Weisbecker’s prose, which is comfortable and forceful at the same time, in the best tradition of road-trip books and Jon Krakauer.   He puts you right there with him on his travels, and he sounds like such a resourceful, fearless guy, you want to slap a camper top on a truck and hit the road your own self.   …I read Another Bullshit Night in Suck City right after this one, and there were certain similarities, but the Flynn suffered by comparison, which was interesting.   Anyway, I didn’t expect to like this one nearly as much as I did, and I can’t say enough good things about it.   I wish he had ten more books for me to look forward to.   (8/31/06)

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