Gnarly Brett Barley, Iceland. Photo: Burkard

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? Fuck knows. But one thing I do know, if a wave is breaking in front of snow covered backdrop, that doesn’t make it good. In fact, if I see one more image of one more shitty, windy, line-up, with ice in the background, I’m gonna puke. Just because it’s cold, and windy, and harsh and isolated and small, doesn’t mean it is special.

JM Cabrera, Lofotem, Norway for the NIxon Challenge. Photo: Alex Laurel
David Leblouch, Norge. Photo: Alex Laurel

Now sure, I get the no crowd factor. ‘Cause there’s no crowds, it’s shit, and cold, and windy and isolated. And I don’t care if it is in Norway, or Iceland, Alaska or Antarctica, magazines or websites wouldn’t publish the same image of a three feet peak if it was breaking at Estagnots at the height of summer, so why am I being subjected to a continuous loop of sub arctic dribble, with cunts in 8/7s, hoodies, gloves and boots attempting to drive through 80 knot Siberian wind shafts just to surf it?