Dawn patrol, there's nothing like it in the world. For those unfamiliar, dawn patrol is the term used for morning surf sessions at the brink of dawn. The cold salty air blows onto your face from the dimly lit surf. You can barely see the waves yet you can hear them crashing and tumbling over each other as they reach the shore. Getting into the water is the hardest part, you know the water is going to be freezing cold. However, the discomfort is only temporary, without fail within five minutes or so your body is acclimated and you are ready to surf.  For your bravery to take a deep dive into the icy waters, you are rewarded with the most pristine waves you've ever surfed. The water is like a sheet of flowing glass barreling in on itself. There's a magical moment when the sun peaks over the horizon and the waves light up into a beautiful dance of orange sunlight. It's almost like a sea of flowing lava, sending chills of euphoria down your spine. I find that this is how many things in life are. The hardest tasks always end up being the most rewarding. 

Brrring…brrring…brring, my alarm clock blares. It's five o’clock in the morning and my room is completely dark. I sigh in agony as I struggle to get out of bed. Five more minutes, I thought. Just five more. The cold morning air never fails to make you want to stay in bed. Fifteen minutes and two missed phone calls later, I finally get up. I call back Kanaloa, my friend since high school, “are you up yet?” he asks frustratingly. “Yeah, chill, I'm getting ready” I respond. “Okay just meet me at Sandy’s in half an hour” said Kanaloa before hanging up the phone. Sandy’s is our favorite beach because it catches the south swells perfectly in the summertime. My house is dead silent, the only noise to be heard is the roosters crowing and the waves breaking far in the distance. I quietly pack my Jeep up with surfboards trying not to wake my dogs up. This better is worth it, I think while pulling out of my driveway. 

I arrive at the beach, I can't see anything except two red glowing tail lights in the parking lot. The tail lights belonged to Kanaloa’s Tacoma which his father gave him for his sixteenth birthday. I pull up next to him, “Yeeeww, it’s absolutely pumping!” Kanaloa yells. “Yeee, Pipe Little’s is going off” I yell back with excitement. Pipe Little’s is what we call a surf break on the left side of the beach due to its resemblance to Pipeline. Of course, it never gets as big as Pipeline but the pristine barrels are identical. We waste no time getting ready as the sun barely awakes to make the sky a very dim light blue. 

“Hurry up” Kanaloa yells while running head-first into ice-cold shorebreak. I wait for the perfect time to paddle out to the break. In between sets when the waves die down. As I wait there, preparing to take the plunge, I can taste the salt water blowing back at me from the shore. You got this, I think trying to convince myself that the cold won't be that bad. The wind dies down and the waves are calm. It’s go time. I run towards the water, my mind is calm and my body is ready.

Splash! For the next five minutes, I am unable to think of anything besides how god-awful cold it is. My body is shivering but my mind is as strong as an ox. I refuse to get out of the water even though everything in my body is telling me I need to get out. “Took you long enough,” Kanaloa says,  “shut up” I respond jokingly. Talking is a great way to take your mind off of the cold. I caught a couple of waves in the dark before the magic moment. 

Just a sliver of the sun peaks over the horizon but it's enough to change the landscape from a dark salty abyss into a flowing field of golden hills that seem to never end. I'm not cold anymore. The temperature no longer matters. Nothing does. The only thing that matters to me at this moment is my board and the waves. It's a feeling of bliss. “Yeee!” Kanaloa screams in the distance with a heart of pure joy. His voice was the dream of every surfer coming true. “Yeee!” I yell back with the same sense of happiness he felt. A simple yell but at that moment it's everything.

People think that good things come easily. This couldn't be further from the truth. Without taking the dive into the freezing water, you can't expect to find golden waves. Anyone can watch the sunrise from the beach but there is nothing like being in the water and taming the sea. They can’t feel the board gliding through the water sending sprays of fire into the sunrise. This reward is only granted to those willing to take the dive. Those brave enough to endure the cold because they know what is yet to come. 

When I was in the seventh grade, I left my family and my friends to go to a boarding school with a whole bunch of people that I'd never met. This was one of the bravest and scariest things I've ever done. Saying goodbye to my friends and family was a feeling colder than any wind chill could ever be. Getting on a plane to a school that I'd never been to surrounded by people I don't know was a deeper dive than any ocean. For the first time in my life, I felt truly alone. Just as your body acclimates to the cold weather, so did I to my new environment. I started making new friends and having new and exciting experiences. Now, six years later I look back on my time in a boarding school with a heart full of joy. These experiences are all I remember, they come flowing back like sets of perfect waves forever crashing in my mind. This is my reward. My life is filled with friends I will never lose and memories I could never forget. The cold is a sacrifice that I would make time and time again to experience the golden warmth of dawn patrol.