Pendulum Swing



Beau Young jazzing the glass aboard his Pendulum Swing, a surfboard that he describes as "old style cool with modern flair and trimmings." Click here to learn more about Beau and his boards.

The Encyclopedia of Surfing

The long awaited and eagerly anticipated Encyclopedia of Surfing is now online. Made by Matt Warsaw, the EOS is "the greatest collection of surf matter on the planet. A gigantic aqua-blue-tinged mass of history, culture, and commentary." First published on paper in 2003, the EOS online edition was funded courtesy of Kickstarter and has taken two years to complete. Featuring a plethora of images and information, videos and external links the EOS is everything we had hoped for, and then some.

Home Is Where Your Park It

My friend Foster has launched a Kickstarter campaign to help fund the printing and production of his latest book, Home Is Where Your Park It. After quitting his job in July of 2011, Foster bought a Syncro Vanagon and headed west in search of surf and other such things. And now, after 80,000 miles and twenty-four months spent travelling all over North America, Foster is preparing to publish an assortment of images he's taken along the way. Click here to learn more about the book.



From the Phone - Vol.3

Unfortunately, summer came and went rather quickly. The first days of fall are upon us, and having taken the time to sort through my cell phone, I've decided to post another selection of stills from the last few months. Images I share on Instagram. A few I've kept quiet. Some come courtesy of Karissa_Would. Taco Tuesdays and Mobile Surf Movies, even an image I took while hanging out the front window of Fargo. It's interesting to look at our shitty cell phone shots and instantly-grammed images. It's a good way to remember all of our activities. Which is, after all, why I began this blog. Because my memory is as good as an eight year old, and I figure I can look back at all this when I'm old(er) and say, "Man, those were some fantastic fucking waves." Or perhaps, "Whoa, I really was an asshole!" Anyhow. Follow the link for some additional images.

Bahía del Escorpión



Our friends from Hippy Tree spent some time surfing Scorpion Bay in Baja. (via Stoke Harvester).

Surface Tension & The First Days of Fall

I'm no good at gambling. I think blackjack is boring and I still can't understand why poker is on ESPN. And don't even get me started on slot machines. To be honest, though, it's not that I am bad at it, it's just I don't like the idea of losing. But as winter grows ever closer, gambling becomes an increasingly more important part of my life. Risk vs. Reward. Do we drive all the way out? Is this a good weekend to go? Should we surf right now, or wait on the incoming tide? Every choice offering an opportunity for failure. 50/50 at best. Because when you surf just two or three days a week, your Wave Window grows smaller by the second. Missed moments. Waiting in one place while waves break in another. Sorta like Saturday. We had planned to stay in Pacific City, hoping like hell the wind and waves would die down a bit. But it was ugly. And with no desire to surf the soup, we decided to drive north. Dice rolled.

It's roughly 325 miles from Pacific City to Port Angeles. The drive up Highway 101 can be incredible... after Olympia. We didn't waste any time along the way, though. Stopping once for coffee and again for fuel. Blazing a trail, if you will. It was five minutes after five when we walked across the street and into the ocean. Two of our friends had been there since early that afternoon and said it had been small, but surfable. As luck would have it, however, the waves were waist high when we arrived. Straight Flush! Karissa and I surfed until the sun went down, sharing waves and taking turns shooting a few photos. As the tide filled in, the swell began to die down a bit. We showered and then headed to Angel's house for our first fall feast of the year. And while I can't speak for the conditions on the coast, I can say that the two hours we spent surfing that evening were worth all the extra effort.

Aug Log



Chris Tincher and Sean Cusick surfing some cosmic shit in St. Augustine, FL. Seen on Surf-Station.

Elysian Brewing's Pumpkin Patch

Admittedly, pumpkin beer isn't for everyone. Some people think it’s too dark, some think it's overspiced, while others simply prefer their ales unadulterated. Understandable, I suppose. But I like beer brewed with plenty of pumpkin, and spices and stuff. It is the epitome of fall for me. A tall brown bottle, maybe some meat cooked over a campfire and some kind of squash. Simple stuff. Hearty. Elysian Brewing has been a favorite of mine for awhile now. Their Avatar Jasmine IPA is one of the best beers I've ever had. Honest.

So when Erika at Full Throttle Bottles told me Elysian was introducing a fall four-pack featuring three of their usual pumpkin beers, as well as a limited edition offering, I drove down to Georgetown and picked up a patch as soon as possible. A tall, narrow box with four big brown bottles inside, Elysian's 'Pumpkin Patch' includes their Night Owl Pumpkin Ale, The Great Pumpkin Imperial Ale, Dark O' The Moon Pumpkin Stout and their limited edition Hansel & Gretel Ginger Pumpkin Pilsner. An eclectic assortment. Something for everyone, as far as we’re concerned.

COMPASSING



Earlier this year, our friend Cyrus Sutton sold all that he owned and went south in search of surf. Travelling in his E-250 Econoline (which appears to be suffering from hydroencephalitis), Cyrus documented an assortment of experiences along the way, including some quality time in the tube.

Shaping the Northwest #2

Our friends at Warm Current and WAVES for Development have teamed up for the second annual Shaping the Northwest fundraiser. The event, which will take place on Thursday, October 3rd in Portland, OR, will feature locally shaped surfboards from some of the northwest’s finest shapers, as well as surf art and photography, music, a silent auction, raffle items, tamales and beer! $10 donations are being accepted at the door. Click here to learn more about the event.

A Short Stay

With the forecast calling for twelve-foot waves and wind outta the south, our friends at Moment Surf Co. were prepared to cancel the 15th Annual Cape Kiwanda Longboard Classic. But with a slice of Saturday looking less shitty than the rest of the weekend, Jeff decided to squeeze the entire contest into one day; their fingers firmly crossed that the wind wouldn't arrive any earlier than anticipated. We pulled into Pacific City around 11am on Friday, having stayed the night at the Commodore Hotel in Astoria the night prior (a hotel I would recommend to anyone staying in Oregon).

It was ugly, to say the least. Waves breaking across the beach, a wall of white water awaiting anyone that was willing. It was also raining. We stayed inside Stimulus most of the afternoon, working and whatnot. Shortly after we ate lunch, Jeff asked for our help setting up the projector and screen onto which they would play Cyrus Sutton's new film, Compass_ing, later that evening. Festivities followed. Pale Ale and pulled pork. The movie and live music. We retired to Derek and Laura's cabin for a night cap and then passed out in the back of our rental van.

The swell showed up Saturday. A-frames all over the place. Big ones. The first heat saw one broken board and more than a few frightened faces. We watched the waves for awhile and then decided to head north in search of something smaller. We pulled outta Pacific City shortly after 10am and headed north on Highway 101. We cut across to Portland, connected with Interstate-5, then drove North and reconnected with 101 shortly after Olympia. From there the highway leads North through Shelton, past Potlach and around Dabob Bay before turning west toward Sequim. A long drive, but a beautiful one.


Hold On We're Going Home



What I've been listening to lately...

Pulau Dewata



Second half of a two-part video series highlighting Jack Lynch's 31 day escape to Indonesia.

Seasonal Affective Disorder

Seattle sucks sometimes. Particularly from the end of October through, oh, say the end of June. Which leaves just three months of not-so-sucky Seattle. It's not all bad, though, the foul weather does encourage us to escape, spending two or three days a week out west. But it's still cold and wet and windy. And come December you're all but exhausted; tired of wearing wool and rubber boots and raincoats, and no matter what you do, everything you own will get wet. And then the surf can suck. Sitting in your car, waiting for waves. It's tough. Which is why we've decided to spend December somewhere down south.

It would've been the same place we went last winter, but ol' Uncle Sam wasn't having it. Long story. So, with only a few more months before Seasonal Affective Disorder does serious damage, we've been scrambling to sort out where we wanna surf. Everything is expensive that time of year, though. Everyone trying to escape their fucked up families, cancelling Christmas, and celebrating the start of a new year somewhere other than at home, on the couch, with the television turned on. Understandable. But also unfortunate. Because it drives the price of everything up. Anyhow. My father invited us to Oahu. He'll be there for the better part of three weeks, and has room for a few more people. But we wanted to go somewhere we hadn't been before, somewhere without so many white people ;) And so last night, after many messages and endless emails, we finally decided where we're gonna go: Costa Rica.

New Way Vah



David Nuuhiwa surfing his signature stick sometime in the sixties. As seen on Capitan Surfocker.

Strawberry-Mango Margaritas

Friday was full of Fuck. USDA Choice. Some of that Non-GMO, grass fed, free range Fuck. With our third Mobile Surf Movie scheduled for Saturday evening outside the Moment Surf Co. in Pacific City, OR, we had planned to skip town around five on Friday and drive all the way down. Typical. Something we do every week. But on her way to pick me up from my office, Karissa put the front end of Fargo into the back of a blue Hyundai. The impact pushed the front bumper into the tire, preventing Fargo from rolling forward. Fucked. Luckily, the accident happened withing walking distance of where I was.

After I arrived, and had yelled and screamed, myself and the man who's back end had been bludgeoned, struggled to stretch Fargo's front bumper back. In the end it took a tow truck, two-by-four, crowbar, four pound sledge hammer and some Coast Guard kid (whom we met outside the Home Depot, who just so happened to have a 9,000lb Warn winch on the front of his truck), in order for Fargo's front wheel to move freely. It was after eight by the time we hit the highway. And three hours later we were in Astoria, camped out in a dark corner of the Comfort Suites' parking lot, listening to a bunch of seals having some kind of wild sex orgy.

We drove all the way down to Pacific City the next morning, stopping in Seaside for but a few minutes. It looked awesome everywhere. A small swell, little to no wind and low tide. We parked at the Pelican Pub, pulled our boards out the back of the van, slipped on some rubber suits and paddled out. There were a few fun ones. Okay, a lot of fun ones. And it was nice to see some familiar faces. Afterward, we ate tacos and drank mango-strawberry margaritas at Ben & Jeff's. Then we climbed the giant sand dune. Bad idea. Shortly before the sun began to set, we pulled the van into the parking lot behind Moment Surf Co. and setup our stuff.

The film was a lot of fun. Everyone crowded around our cargo van in the paved parking lot right behind the surf shop. The taco stand stayed open late so people could eat and drink. Beers were bought, schwag was scattered amongst the stoked and we may have drank a few more margaritas. The evening ended around eleven, I think. Wind and wild waves arrived first thing Sunday morning. Hungover and hungry, we ate a big breakfast and then headed north toward Tillamook. A rather depressing "tour" of the cheese factory was followed by beers at Bill's Brewhouse, pizza and a four hour drive home in the dark. Not sure why we hadn't headed south sooner?!

Golden State



Cool little film created by Jack Coleman featuring the ever impressive Kassia Meador.

Quite the Conundrum

So, we're in a bit of pickle. Ready to return to one of the most amazing places in Mexico, we've run into a road block. Our friend is in the Air Force, and right now she is unable to travel to that particular part of the Mexican mainland. Unfortunate, yes, but not the end of the world. We just need to find somewhere else to surf. Where there's warm water and whatnot. Sounds simple. How about Hawaii, or why not Nicaragua? Yes, those are also awesome, but the more I look at our alternatives, the more I want to go back to where we were last winter.

That long left. Breaking slowly over a rock reef. Fifteen feet from our front door. Which, I might add, did a damn fine job of keeping out all kinds of critters. We'd wake up early and look out the little window in the kitchen to see how big the waves were. After drinking a big cup of instant coffee and eating a brown banana, we'd slip into our shorts, er, a Seea suit in Karissa's case, and proceed to paddle all the way out to the point - which will feel like five miles after the first three or four days.

The wave begins breaking about fifteen-hundred feet from shore. Maybe more. One wave will take awhile, but you'll be grinning like an idiot while you paddle back to the point. And so therein lies our issue; where the fuck do we go from here?! Where can we find a wave - long and left, soft and slow - that is as easily accessible? Where there's warm water and cheap beer. Where the people aren't pretentious and hammocks hang from the front porch and you eat avacados and eggs every afternoon. We're exploring other options. But we'll need to go back. Because there really isn't anywhere else that can compare.

Matix + Tyler



Short film highlighting a forthcoming clothing collaboration between Tyler Hatzikian and Matix.

Faraway Friends

Friends are funny. Some of them you see all the time; maybe once or twice a week. Some you only see on certain occasions - like at birthday parties or baseball games. And then there's that whole other group. The ones you see like once or twice a year... if you're lucky. But what's funny is not the fact that you are "friends" with someone you see so seldomly, but that you can be such good friends with said people. Maybe they moved, or perhaps they reproduced, and the time you once enjoyed together has since been cut short by other obligations. Example: I have an old friend coming into town today, someone we lovingly endowed with the appellation, 'Fuckin' Eddy.'

He and I partied played lacrosse together in high school and surfed every summer when he would come home from college. He moved to the southern part of Spain a few years following the end of his education, and although we rarely see each other, when we do, it's as though not a single day has passed. Fuckin' Eddy is a good friend. And so are a lot of the people we surfed with this weekend. People we hadn't seen since last summer. People that can't come out often, but sure know how to have a good time when they do get away for the weekend. And as much as I wish we could surf and camp together more often, I'm glad we have a group of friends that can withstand the test of time.

En Baja



Check out this fantastic lil' film featuring Steven Newton surfing some crystal blue waves in Baja.

Seattle Cider Co.

Did you know that John Adams drank a tankard of cider nearly every morning of his adult life? I'm not talking about apple juice. No sir. This was the strong stuff. Fermented fruit. The drunk drink. And it was, like all the other alcohol at the time, consumed not only for it's flavor, but for safety's sake. Beer being better than brown water, etc. Now, we've come quite a ways since the Founding Fathers drank fermented fruit juice. But that's not to say it's bad. I believe hard cider is the answer to a lot of our alcohol issues. Don't drink beer? Unwilling to whiskey your way through the weekend? Gin and juice a little too O.G. for that ass? Well, you should have some hard cider!

I remember watching the Fantastic Mr. Fox a few years ago. The protagonist, a misbehaving middle aged newspaperman turned thief, spends his evenings chicken stealin' and hard cider swillin'. Living that good life. While weird, the film did, however, inspire us to sample different ciders. There weren't many at the time, though. So after a few of our own cider swillin' evenings, we were all but empty. Fast forward a few years. The local grocery store shelves are now overflowing with options. Especially in Seattle. Every sorta cider you can think of. There's big brown bottles, tall cans, small cans and even those fancy ones with the resealable pop-tops. Overwhelming it is. So when we heard our friends at Full Throttle Bottles were hosting the launch of a new Seattle based cidery, we jumped at the opportunity to learn more about cider and all the available varietals.

One Average Day



Andy Warhurst surfing his signature stick near Noosa Heads. Brought to you by Warwick Gow.

Wheels & Waves

Join us next Thursday night (September 12th) for a solo art exhibition from our friend, Patrick 'Duffy' De Armas. Inspired by his love of engines and the ocean, this art exhibition will take place at The Piranha Shop in downtown Seattle, and will feature a variety of new work, as well as things you may have seen around the city. Show starts at six and ends at ten. And yes, there will be booze you can buy.

Augtember Sessions

I love this time of year. When school starts and the summer surfers return to their suburban surrounds, eagerly awaiting winter so they can start snowboarding and stuff. It's also the time of year when offshore winds and early morning fog are a common occurrence. When the sun sets a little earlier and the evenings become a bit more brisk. Campfires are more important this time of year, providing warmth as well as an easy way to cook big cans of beans and buffalo burgers. I also like to layer - Tellason from top to bottom, and a Cowichan I acquired on accident. I don't, however, enjoy wearing wet wetsuits. Or boots. Or gloves. Oh well. That being said, the surf on Saturday was incredible. With wind howling from the east and waist high waves rolling in at reasonable intervals, it was everything I could ask for. I don't deny it was difficult; extra effort was required to catch a couple. But fuck they were fun! We surfed for six or seven hours and ended the evening with an Invasion! From Planet C screening on the side of Fargo the Cargo Van. A mess of stoke was mined. Follow the link for a few more photos.

Sliding Scorpions



Christian Wach, Jen Smith, Brian Anderson, and Daniel Graham sliding Scorpion Bay in Baja.

Some Friday Fog

Labor Day weekend is traditionally a shit show - the final few before the fall, the last days of summer for some. Everyone is out... everywhere. So we took an extra day, the Friday before, just in case it was crowded. To save our spot on the island and setup for our first Mobile Surf Movie. We left Seattle shortly after six on Thursday. Traffic was unusually alright. We stopped for fuel, followed by a cup of coffee at one of those lingerie latte joints. A little odd. Fast forward a few hours and we were circling the aforementioned island, looking for something level. To our astonishment, the campground was all but empty. So we pitched a few tents to save space, drank some cider and passed out early.

A light fog had settled overnight, and the wind was offshore when we awoke. It had rained. We slipped on our suits and paddled out early. The only ones if I remember right. It was exhausting. Paddling as hard as possible. Fighting the wind in your face. Your body becoming a sail as soon as you stand up. But when it all worked, when you got a good one, goddamn were those waves wonderful. After a few hours Karissa donned a pair of swim fins that Shawn gave us and paddled, er, swam out with our often forgot Canon PowerShot D20. It was an excellent afternoon. Follow the link for a few of her photos.

Le Log. Le Pier.



Louis White and James De La Cruz surfing somewhere down south. Brought to you by Adam Burns.