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National Parks and Wildlife...

I hear the stories of bumping along dirt tracks snaking the shadows on the way through the National Park at Noosa. Before the bitumen, before the park-benches, before the carparks and the kiosk...

But my reality is wading in the thick of the area's evilution, loop after loop of the carpark to snag a spot, pull up, set up and settle in for the day.
With the various points having a reputation for hosting some of the most perfect point-breaks on the East Coast, likewise is its reputation for being devoid of waves for weeks, sometimes months on end...

But when it's on... Ooooh boy!
Prepare to hustle and, if you're damn lucky, eventually you might pick off a screamer. From up near the swirling grom-thick take-off, wind out the pace to howl across the sucking sandbank to get the slingshot over the flat and hope the wave's width can swing your log's trajectory just wide enough to link up to another racing section at the start of Little Cove - hook the two points together into a magical 200m plus ride sure to stain endorphin excess all through you salt pickled brain. A ride that haunts your memories like a fog and taunts you to try to replicate the ride on the smaller days, when you know it ain't quite big enough... the rocks, beckoning ruin to both body and board should you slip a toe out of place.

Possession. Exhileration. Madness.

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