I still remember my first session on the PURE JOY. It was on the way back home, somewhere in central California. It was at a rocky lumpy right-hander at the very top of a well known point. It was about as good as I’ve ever seen it out there. A clean swell was hitting the rock ledge there just right. I was admittedly under the spell of the PURE JOY at this point. It was crowded, rocky, and unfamiliar, and I had just found the board and had no leash, but I still couldn’t get out there quick enough. I never lost the board once during that session. It was twelve years ago and I still vividly remember the kelp and the boils and the sets feathering on the outside, but the truly odd thing about it all is that is the last time I ever remember seeing or riding that board.