Roads snake onto Long Island like the tentacles of a concrete anemone as you drive east out of NYC. But past the high rises, the suburbs, the vineyards, and the nonsense of the Hamptons, those roads compress to a single, two-lane highway, which runs along the Atlantic as it nears Montauk—known locally as “The End.” A bipolar fishing hamlet (teeming in summer, deserted in winter), which sits at the southeastern tip of Long Island, Montauk is a hideout from the rest of NY for most of the year. And for surfers, it offers a respite from the East Coast’s well-documented beachbreak monotony via a coastline that boasts coves, reefs, and points, many of which sit inside its six state parks or abut a sprawling expanse of now-abandoned military property.

Waves

Exposed and raw, Montauk sucks in swell from the south, west, and east like a greedy Ponzi-schemer hoovering up 401Ks. Which means one of its advantages is actual consistency—a rare commodity on the East Coast…

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