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It was nerve-racking. After a day of difficult waves (see: no clips), we woke up the next morning and drove straight to a fun little left at the end of an easy-to-miss dirt road. There were ramps. On every. Single. Wave. It almost felt fake, like it was too good to be true. Like each ramp was too precious an opportunity — especially after the deprivation of the day before. You’d take off and think don’t blow it, don’t blow it, don’t blow it…and then, obviously, blow it. Suffice to say, the boys started slow. But then they heated up. And nobody heated up more than Parker.
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