OFF THE LEASH

I got out of the water the other day at a secret break called Mouse Mountain. Its location is known to no more than five thousand surfers on the Cape Peninsula. On a good day, you can get it with fewer than three hundred out. If you know where the spot is, keep it to yourself.

There were two hipsters sitting on the wall. They were dressed for decaf lattes, not surfing. As I walked past, I overheard the skinny dude with a sloppy top-knot say to his buddy, “I know lots of guys who used to surf but don’t any more.”

I wanted to put my board down, grab Top-Knot by