If there's one word that can sum up Heartland surfing, it's soul. But what is the soul of Heartland surfing's soul? Is it the crisp beachbreaks of Oklahoma? Is it the monster waves of South Dakota? Perhaps the long, clean tubes of Kentucky?

The answer is: there is no answer. Every Heartland surfer has his own opinion of where the true soul of surfing lies. One thing they can agree on, though, is that Heartland surfing is the best surfing, and it's here to stay.

Ask any waterman from Vermont to Arizona what sets Heartland surfing apart from the rest of the world, and they'll tell you "ASPASP." The ASPASP (Anglo Saxon Protestant Association of Surfing Professionals) was founded in 1953 in Kansas City as a way for Heartland surfers to coordinate surfing and international politics. By 1967, every hard-core surfer from Idaho to Tennessee was a card-carrying member of the ASPASP. Make no mistake: Heartland surfers take the ASPASP very seriously.

Heartland surfers take great pride in the quality and quantity of their waves. Whether you're a hellman from Indiana or a beginner from Utah, there's a wave for you that fits your personal style, skill, temperature, taste, emotional range, economic status, desire for commitment and love of pizza. In fact, the Heartland is home to some of the most emotionally sensitive waves on the planet. Waves gossip about each other and spread rumors. One wave might talk behind another wave's back. One wave might say that another wave is "fat" or "small" or "slow."

This practice leads to waves breaking down and crying, sometimes for days. Although this tension exists among the waves, surfers in the Heartland have made it clear that they accept the waves for who they are. If you're going to surf the Heartland, treat the waves like you would treat your favorite Britney Spears CD. Once in the lineup, always smile and say "please" and "thank you."

Like anywhere, there are crowds in the more populated areas. There is a serious rivalry between Heartland surfers and Canadian surfers. In the old days, Heartland locals would cook and eat non-locals right on the beach. These days, such extreme practices are illegal. Heartland surfers are much more friendly these days. They're very concerned about the environment, so say things like, "Hey, dude, trees are cool." Oh, and one more thing: there are a couple of glossary terms you should know when surfing among a Heartland crowd. "Yee-haw" means "my wave." "Sho 'nuff" means "your wave."

Heartland sharks are starting a full public relations blitz. In TV ads, Heartland sharks look in to the camera and say, "We love people." Heartland sharks are also using radio for a makeover. Says one shark, "We have a reputation for being unkind, but really, we're just direct."

To date, there have been: five shark attacks, 18 shark harassments, 21 shark insults, 75 shark run-ins, 108 shark experiences, 729 shark-related vibes, 2,317 shark reports, 4,098 shark contacts, 8,701 shark adoptions, 13,207 shark sponsors, 28,731 shark web sites and 62,041 shark registrations.

SUMMER
Heartland surfers begin summer with prayers to Bloopeez, the god of the south swell. Bad avocados and used dental floss are sacrificed to Bloopeez to ensure solid summer swells. Heartland surfers celebrate the first south swell with an underwater square dance. If it's flat, Bloopeez is angry and can only be appeased if all Heartland surfers drink lots of cold beer. South swells make Heartland surfers giggle and squeal. The bigger the swell, the louder the giggling and squealing.

FALL
Heartland surfers begin fall with prayers to Salty Jiblit, the god of the east swell. Old lottery tickets and historic concrete are used for sacrifices to Salty Jiblit to ensure solid east swells in the fall. Heartland surfers celebrate the first east swell by watching porno movies while fondling their surfboards. This tradition goes all the way back to 1965, when surfers from the gulf of Kansas sexually assaulted their surfboards. If it's flat, Salty Jiblit demands that all forms of surf media be brought to the Strait of Arkansas and thrown into a ceremonial 20-foot blender.

WINTER
There is no god of the north swell. Heartland surfers do not surf the first north swell out of respect for Salty Jiblit. After the first one rolls through, though, it's clear that Heartland surfers love north swells. In fact, they're obsessed with them. Heartland surfers have even been known to change their names to "north swell."

SPRING
Heartland surfers, especially along Cape Idaho and Arizona Sound, begin spring with prayers to Nifty, the turtle god of the west swell. Nifty is half turtle, half seaweed. Honda Civics are blown up to show respect for Nifty. After a west swell session, Heartland surfers paddle in and roll around in the sand for hours in homage to Nifty. --Charles Baer