Baja Norte?

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Merlin's Merlins

When WWII ended, my grandfather purchased an 85-ft ASR boat from AAF surplus. The boat was designed to rescue downed pilots off the coast of HI. It was powered by three Merlin V12 engines making a total of 4500 horsepower, consuming 125 gallons of fuel per motor, per hour. His boat, 'The Adventure,' had a 4000 gallon fuel capacity, and if my math is right, could burn the entire tank in ten hours at full throttle. He paid $8000 for the vessel, when fuel was $0.32/gallon, so again, if my math is correct, filling the tank would run him $1280. He ran an illegal poker game on the boat during his post war years in Hawaii. The vessel was eventually sold and spent the rest of its life ferrying tourists to the USS Arizona memorial site.

He turns 97 in May.

Double Shot

Inspired by the WWII bomber jackets on display at the Pima Air Museum in Tucson, AZ, I asked my friend @thr_asher to throw a custom paint job onto the back of my old ICON 1000 jacket. This is the result.

So Long

What I've been listening to lately...


Thirty Five Millimeter | Nashville

This is the second roll I shot during our ride up the East Coast. After picking up our bikes in Daytona Beach, FL, we rode north to Savanna, GA for a night, and then on to ATL where we stayed for a few, visiting our friend and jeweler, Steve West. From Hotlanta we traveled Birmingham, AL to kick it with my old friend and former Cold Track Days photographer, Raymond, and also to visit the famed Motorsport Museum. All of that is included in this post. After Bham we made our way north to Nashville, TN for hot chicken and some honky-tonk shit. Memories from our time in Music City are pictured below.

Beau Geste

A film I must have seen a million times. Most influential in my life. Tragic, and yet wildly inspiring.

A State of Blindness

"Apparently we live a good portion of our lives in a state of blindness, our brain enforcing minuscule moments of obscurity as our eyes scan the world around us. Evolution’s logic seemingly that were we to see every single moment as clearly as we do when we settle upon focus, we’d either be perpetually sea sick or our heads would explode from all the information."

- Toddy Stewart (of The Endless Bummer)


Thirty Five Millimeter | Daytona to ATL

For whatever reason, I've overlooked a great deal of images I shot during the twilight hours of summer in 2016, when my father, Kyra and myself rode a trio of Indian Motorcycles from Daytona Beach, FL to Lebanon, NJ. Kyra wrote about our trip for RideApart, using a few photos taken by the both of us. But like a lot of our adventures, I dragged along something more archaic - in this case, a 'Safari Green' Yashica T4 and a half-dozen rolls of film. This is the first roll. I'll get around to posting the remaining five. Promise.


I could say an awful lot about all this. Bruce, his films, their influence.

But we all know how important he was and they are.

So just enjoy this.


Ramblin' Man

What I've been listening to lately...



Note: This post was written in May of 2015 while I was living in Japan.

I'm on an elevated train leaving Tokyo. Surrounding me on all sides are young men and women, staring straight down, with one hand holding onto the safety circles that hang from the ceiling. Why, I wonder? Perhaps some kind of shame system developed during the rice paper wall period? Keep quiet because everyone can hear everything? No, they're just staring at their screens. Cell phones, tablets and handheld gaming devices occupy the palms of almost everyone. They glance up only to make sure they haven't missed their stop. The rest of the train's occupants are older, and they're asleep in their seats. A sign of the times, I suppose. And yet here I stand, phone and face in the same position as everyone else, getting things done with what little down time I have today. It's essential, this connectedness. One can shun the convenience of modern technology, run to their 'cabin in the woods' and get all Thoreau on us. But let's be honest, in order to succeed in society these days, one must swallow the proverbial pill. And that's alright.

You see, I've been “on the road” for more than a year now - travelling in my converted cargo van up and down the west coast of the United States, then travelling into Baja aboard my dual-sport motorcycle for more than a month, and now I’m traversing Asia, riding motorcycles, surfing and exploring for the next few months. This could not happen, however, without the availability of Internet. I am considered a journalist by most conventional standards. I participate, document and debate a range of subjects, centering primarily around surfing and adventure motorcycling. I am also a "social media manager," a job title new to the working world, and one that wouldn't exist if it weren't for the Internet. It is a job title that, unlike all of my previous employments within corporate America, allows me to wander aimlessly around the world, working whenever and wherever the Internet is available.

I peer over the shoulder of the person pressed against me - a young woman of ripe working age. She's typing feverishly in Facebook Messenger. Then she adds an image on Instagram and reads what I assume to be a blog post about some kind of beauty product, given the pictures. I, on the other hand, am hammering out a story I've been commissioned to write about the importance of the Internet, and how it allows me to travel freely and yet still maintain an income level at or above where I'd be if I were stuck Stateside. An hour later, I exit the train with what feels like eight hundred other people, take the escalator up, and make my way back to my friend's house in Fussa where I'll be staying for the next few months. Parked outside his front door is the motorcycle I've rented. Inside is the surfboard I've borrowed. And upstairs is my laptop, which, like a pair of pistols strapped to the side of some 20th century gunfighter, pays my bills. Without it, I'd be riding desks not dual-sports for the foreseeable future. I think Thoreau would understand.


Log Rap

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