Alex Knost by Jack Coleman



Al doing that Al thing... Shot and edited by Jack Coleman. Video courtesy of Thalia Surf.

Scouts Honor

We've been on the road a lot lately. A four month stay in Japan - which included a two week trip to Italy, as well as a ten-day stay in the Philippines - was followed by our return to Baja, and then an Arizona-to-Washington and back adventure. Now, Kyra and I are preparing for yet another overzealous endeavor. With the help of Motorcyclist Magazine and Indian Motorcycles, we are about to embark on the “Great American Motorcycle Adventure,” riding an Indian Scout and Scout Sixty from California to Key West. The journey - some 3,000 miles in total - will test our wills, as well as our willingness. We’re eager to expand our horizons, cross State lines, and forego ‘must see’ destinations in order to find our own way from one side of this glorious country to the other. This is going to be good, #Scouts_Honor!

The 101 South - Malibu



Jack Lynch, Alex Knost and Nate Foster making the most of Malibu on a quiver crafted by Corey Munn.

The Return of the Pale Pig

When we last spoke, Kyra and I were headed to Long Beach for the International Motorcycle Show, having spent the week prior surfing 38th in Santa Cruz and C Street in Ventura, among other things. The show was exhausting as always, but fruitful in many ways. We talked about motorbikes, shook a few unfamiliar hands, had a dinner party that swelled from four to plus-fourteen, and then talked of upcoming adventures with people who've spent more than a decade riding motorcycles around the world. We shuddered at the obvious excuses people use for why they're not riding, avoided the overzealous individuals that just want to talk, and then eventually escaped. The following week was spent in-and-around San Clemente, surfing San Onofre, slugging Betty's at Gnar Gnar's new compound in Silverado, eating plenty of Pizza Port and visiting a few (old) friends. I suspect the photos will tell the tale better than my re-hashed ramblings...

The 101 South - Mexico



Jack Lynch and Alex Knost sliding south of the border. Motion pictures made by SurfStitch.

Currently...


Kyra and I are currently in California. Having escaped the sad grey skies of the Pacific Northwest, we've been enjoying waist high waves and that crazy shit called sunshine from Santa Cruz to C Street. We'll be in Long Beach this weekend attending the International Motorcycle Show and then making our way further south in search of surf. Oh, and we'll be eating a ceremonial turkey sammich and drinking champagne with our feet planted firmly in the sand. Other items on the itinerary? More slides atop me swine, perhaps some Pliny with the pig man himself, breakfast at Captain Mauri's, lunch at Pipes Café and dinner at Pizza Port. Maybe a sunset surf in Encinitas followed by a Pineapple n' Chile Margarita at Las Olas? We shall see.

Caio Teixeira em Costa Rica



Missing this shit. Might have to head west next week. Seventy-five and sunny in San Diego. Just sayin.

Odell Brewing Company's IPA

When I was younger, I'd drink just about anything. Milwaukee's Best? Fuck it. Tall cans of Coors Light? Duh. But as I've aged, a man now three decades deep, I've developed an appreciation for the IPA. To be honest, I'm not sure when or how it happened. I remember my first proper pint, poured at the Paragon on Queen Anne when I turned 21. It was an Amber Ale brewed by Mac & Jack's in Redmond, WA. Something you could only drink on draught, it was a beer that made me feel like an adult. "Here, look at me, man of 21 years, drinking this beer you teenagers can't acquire." And so for the next few years that's what happened. A slow and steady transition from malt liquor to craft beer. And then the IPA.

The first one that really grabbed me by the boo-boo was brewed by the Pelican Brew Pub in Pacific City, OR. I mean, I am sure there were others, but that's the first one I blogged about. Anyhow. Fast forward a few years and I am now an expert in the IPA, or so I tell myself. IBUs and ABVs... Yea, I know what that shit means. Cascade compared to Centennial hops? Yea, I can totally tell the difference (ahem, bullshit!). All of that to say, when I find an IPA that I can't stop swilling - pouring one bottle after another into my face (see: Sculpin) - I feel obligated to write about it... being an expert and all ;) So allow me to introduce my latest face-eating friend, Odell Brewing Co.'s IPA, a "bolder and more flavorful – American Style IPA" that is brewed in Fort Collins, CO. At 7% ABV and 60 IBUs, Odell's offering is nobody's bitch. But she goes down all-too-easy and will leave you looking for a place to purchase another six-pack. Also there is a man riding an elephant on the bottle - which obviously makes the beer better. So if you're an IPA expert like myself, do you really need an excuse to drink something different? I think not. Do yourself a favor and find a few.

Yamaha Serow Solo Camp Touring



One minute of motorcycle riding followed by five minutes of camping and cooking shots?! If you've been to Japan, or live(d) there, this video will probably make perfect sense to you. During our time on The Island, a few things became clear: the Japanese love Yamaha's 225cc Serow (they even sell a special 'Touring Edition' complete with a windscreen and tail rack), and they curate their camping kit the way some people color coordinate their closet. Everything has its place, everything has its purpose. Like most things in Japan, camping - especially motorcycle camping - is taken very seriously. Yes, fun will be had, but it will be perfect fun. Cut and pasted from the pages of GO OUT magazine. Garb'd and gathered, overlooked and organized, and then cleaned thoroughly and put away neatly. I both fear this efficiency, this absence of expression, and simultaneously miss those moments when the girl at 7-11 quietly wrapped my pork bun in wax paper, and then bowed graciously as she handed it to me.

Young Turks



What I've been listening to lately...

John Calvin & Thomas Hobbes


Additional words of wisdom can be found here.

Lucid Surf Dreams



This edit is most fucking excellent, as is the shredular-ness showcased within. Up your game, amigos!

Bousou Island - Vol. 2

Maybe a month ago, we loaded the van and headed east across Tokyo Bay in search of a south swell. The spot, a place affectionately known as J-Bu, is located on the Chiba Peninsula and breaks, as you may have guessed, a lot like it's namesake in the States. I'd go into more detail, but I don't want the Yakuza taking any of my fingers for spilling the proverbial soy beans. So you'll have to settle for a few photos. What I can say is that the surf did not suck, and although it rained like a bitch, we managed to find solace in beer and some kind of weird Japanese baseball game show thingy. Stay tuned! Our Bousou Island adventure is not over.

Poler Surf Stuff



Apparently Poler started making "surf stuff," and they sent Mikey and Trevor to PR to do some "testing."

I Have Always Lived Violently

“I have always lived violently, drunk hugely, eaten too much or not at all, slept around the clock or missed two nights of sleeping, worked too hard and too long in glory, or slobbed for a time in utter laziness. I've lifted, pulled, chopped, climbed, made love with joy and taken my hangovers as a consequence, not as a punishment.”

- John Steinbeck

Tropic Haze

As far as I'm concerned, wheat beers are only good if they're cold... Like really fucking cold. As soon as the sun hits them, they taste like warm bread paste, so I typically avoid them. Until I landed in the Philippines. Anything, and I mean anything, that is cold and tastes like beer is acceptable - sometimes. And this was one of those times. We'd been out and about all day, fulfilling family obligations, sightseeing, etc. Luckily, one of Kyra's cousins owns a bar, where we ended our evening. When we walked in, a young lady was chatting with her cousin. Turns out shes a rep for Nipa Brew, a Manila based craft beer producer. Small is one way to describe the company, tiny is another. Something like seven people! Anyhow. She had a few bottles of Tropic Haze, "a light and refreshing craft beer with tropical undertones, perfect for those who want to step into the craft beer experience!" Or so it's described on their Facebook page.

The reality is that Tropic Haze is similar to a lot of the wheat beers we have at home - Hoegaarden, New Belgium's 'Snapshot,' or the ever popular Blue Moon. But it's better. With an underlying citrus flavor, not to be confused with added fruit, or a lime wedge (who the fuck do you think I am?), Tropic Haze is mildly effervescent and goes down easy, too easy. As you can see, it's golden in color with a light mist I associate with all wheat beers, and even some IPA's (Fort George's Vortex in particular). I could go on about the nuances of the beer, the flavor, how it landed on my palate, or the after-taste. But that's more than you bargained for, isn't it? What you want to know is whether it's good, and how you can get some. Well, I'm sorry to say that you can't - get any that is. And yes, it is good, otherwise I wouldn't be writing about it. As of right now (July of 2015), Tropic Haze is only available in the Philippines, and mostly just Manila. But hopefully, that's about to change... Stay tuned!

Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now



What I've been listening to lately...

The Fjord



Finding surf in the Faroe Islands. The sort of shit that makes surfing more interesting than ice skating.

Bousou Island - Vol.1

I suppose these photos are a long time coming, seeing as how we've been living in Japan since April... But we've been busy! A three week trip to Italy followed shortly thereafter by my hasty return to the United States for the annual Touratech Rally. And now, a week into the month of July, we're trapped indoors, anxiously awaiting a reprieve from the rain. Work takes up a lot of our time, as do the daily tasks associated with living somewhere. But that hasn't stopped us from surfing. And while the weather hasn't been the best, the waves haven't been bad...

The following photos were taken during a two week period prior to our Italian departure, and highlight two spots; Kashima and Shimoda. The first of which is a rather exposed beach break with cement tetra-pod jetties at either end. The later is a white sandy beach that allows slow rolling swells to break over an assortment of sandbars and, as Chris and I discovered, includes a rather awesome little left that wraps around a rocky outcropping at one end. Your ability to distinguish the difference between these two spots, especially in the attached images, will be almost impossible. Which is alright, because surfing is subjective. So who gives a shit when or where? It was fun, which is what matters.

Inner City Blues



What I've been listening to lately...

Sushi Go-Round Dinner

We're currently living in Japan, riding motorcycles, surfing and eating at 7-11 as often as possible. It's an amazing place, but also an odd one. We've met some incredible people, surfed decent stuff, raced a 50cc Honda Super Cub in a three-hour endurance race, visited a robot restaurant, circumnavigated Mt. Fuji on dual-sport motorcycles, and explored hidden highways and abandoned villages outside of Tokyo with a trio of ex-pats. We just recently returned from a three-week trip to Italy in order to document the 2015 Sardegna Rally. While we were away, I had two rolls of 35mm film developed that I shot shortly after we arrived in Japan. Here's what happened next...

Hunting For Abandoned WWII Bunkers



In April, my friend Chris from POA Films flew over from Tokyo to meet Kyra and I in Seattle. What awaited him was a fully outfitted WR250R dual-sport (graciously donated by my buddy Greg), as well as a complete set of ICON Raiden riding gear. We also had a map sprinkled with dots noting the location of abandoned WWII bunkers that our friend Andy had found - or was aware of - all of which were scattered along the Strait of Juan de Fuca. What followed was a week long adventure complete with camping, water-crossings, Forest Services roads, single-track, scenes from ROTJ and lots of soft-serve ice cream.

Anderson Paak



What I've been listening to lately...

Reilly Stone



Say hello to Reilly Stone, a longboard shredding sixteen year old from Santa Cruz, who is also the newest member of the Bing Surfboards family. Click here to learn more about Señor Stone and his sliding.

Slightly Better Than Before

This is nothing new. These feelings: frustration, envy, excitement, surprise, and so on. Every time I surf out here, driving hours on either end, I am eager and then exhausted, anticipatory and then angry. It all depends. One week, no, one day, everything is incredible and then, as if someone flipped the Magic Surfing Switch, it's all gone. Nothing but ankle high ripples across the Great Pond. And so went that week, the last we'd spend in Washington before departing for Japan (which is where I am writing this). Chris had flown into town from Tokyo. We were planning to film a short video about some abandoned military bunkers strewn along... well, you'll find out. We also planned to surf, assuming there'd be some. And there was. At least for a few days. Waist high waves tipping slowly from left to right, or is it right to left? There was rain and hail and wind and sunshine, and all of the other things you appreciate after the fact. Hindsight and shit. We rode motorcycles in the woods, drank beers in a cabin, cooked food over a fire and shredded the fucking Gnar. And then we got on a plane and left. Stay tuned for stuff from this side.

Highlights | Joel Tudor Longboard Invitational 2015



Watch as a group of long stick shredders perform unreal acts of enjoyment while surfboarding waterhills...

Mexi Log Fest



Some footage from this year's Mexi Log Fest in Sayulita, Mexico. Brought to you by Bing Surfboards.

Surf-A-Pig's 5th Annual Luau

Surf-A-Pig's 5th Annual Luau will take place near Trail 5 at the San Onofre Bluffs, from June 19th-21st. There will be a pretty big pig (served mid-day on the 20th), as well as lots of swine shaped surfing-boards and plenty of interesting people. So if you're in the area, sneak down to San-O and join us for a bit of fun!

Kookapintail



Corey Colapinto sliding his new Canvas Surfboards model, the Kookapintail.

Lessons Learned From A Year Living In A Van

A little more than 14 months ago, I was moving into an apartment on Queen Anne, one of Seattle's more well-to-do neighborhoods. A phone call from my friend Chris prompted a six week long search for surf in Southern California, a project later dubbed The Peelgrimage. My hasty return home and ensuing divorce motivated me to move. Anywhere. So I went south... Check out the story I wrote for Gizmodo about the lessons I've learned after living in Fargo the Cargo Van for more than a year.

WORM



While we're on the subject of Worm... Check out this awesome edit from Hayley Gordon!

Erin 'Worm' Ashley

I'm beginning to notice a pattern... I can't seem to remember how I met a lot, if not all, of the more interesting people I know. The internet? Probably. Through a friend-of-a-friend? Perhaps. Maybe at the mall? Uh, nope. However it is, er, was, I am happy it happened. An example is Erin Ashley. I know that my friend Alex Swanson - a mid-length shredding, photo taking, life saving, Newport resident - was somehow involved. But for the life of me, I can't remember how. What I do know, however, is that as soon as Erin (a.k.a. Worm) and I became friends, my cell phone was never silent - so long as she knew I was in Southern California. "What's it look like?" Was a common question. Erin, knowing that Chris and I were parked at Camp Pendleton for the better part of two months filming The Peelgrimage, took full advantage of this fact, checking surf conditions whenever she could. Now I'm not saying she abused our burgeoning friendship - shit, I would have done the same damn thing - I'm simply saying she was eager for information. And I was a resource. As the weeks past, something became increasingly clear. Worm is down. Always. A quick note on a Monday morning would result in a two hour session at Church. Another message mid-week would lead to a short excursion further south. Pipes perhaps? Or howsabout the morning we met at Malibu, inadvertently. All of this to say, Worm is always looking for waves, and her style, grace, and skill are evidence of her persistent and passionate pursuit. Follow the link and read our interview with WORM!

Shaping the Northwest 2015

The third annual Shaping the Northwest will take place at EVO Portland on Friday, April 10th. The event will feature locally shaped surfboards from the northwest’s finest shapers, music, a silent auction and raffle, food cart, and plenty of beer. You'll also be able to learn more about Warm Current and WAVES for Development, two Oregon based surf-related nonprofits. $10 donations will be collected at the door, however tickets can be purchased in advance HERE, as they expect to sell out.

Base Camp Brewing's S'more Stout

Since that first foamy sip accosted my upper lip and left me with a stout 'stache, I've been hooked. In one way or another. My veracity for this malty, dark drink grew with age. The lust becoming far more diverse. And yet in all this time, I hadn't actually found a favorite. Porters for a lighter, effervescent, yet firm punch to the mouth. Stouts to quench my thirst for adult-grade chocolate milkshakes and affogatos. To say I've had them all isn't a huge overstatement. I've sampled many. But, sadly, remembered few.

This was my conundrum for many arduous, beer-tasting years - cue 'eye roll.' Then enters Base Camp Brewing. Thanks Portland for taking yet another classic treat (from a campsite perhaps?) and adding alcohol. Like a good amount of it (7.7% ABV). The S'more Stout is a force to be reckoned with. Its noir-ish black chocolate taste and sweet notes float around the mouth like marshmallow angels. A thing of kings! I'm taken beachside as its aftertaste "burns" of campfire ash. And I mean this in the best of ways. No. Better than best.

Alex Knost | Duct Tape Invitational



Alex Knost took second place at the 2015 Duct Tape Invitational in Noosa. Here's highlights via RVCA.

Calypso



I don't know, I guess I just love the color grading in this short bit of film from Trey Edwards...

DORA LIVES: The Authorized Story of Miki Dora

While dog sitting for my friend Derek a few weeks ago, I spotted a copy of DORA LIVES: The Authorized Story of Miki Dora in the bathroom while I was, well, you know... Now I know my fair share about Miki Dora, a gentleman also known as "Da Cat," or the guy that made Malibu (in)famous. But this book shed a whole new light on one of the most iconic surfers... ever. "When he didn't like the commercial direction of the sport he helped define, he turned his back on the beach, wandered the world, served time in jail, and, finally in 2002, suffering from pancreatic cancer returned to his father's house in Montecito to die at age 67."

To define Dora is to define sand slipping through your fingers. Something that seemed so solid, so real, and yet can quickly escape to where it originated. With a healthy disdain for "modern" surf culture, Miki Dora was, in my opinion, one of the few that escaped The Great Sellout of the 1970's. This book, albeit read briefly while using Derek's well-equipped Water Closet, helped me better understand someone I've known only through images. "Transcribed interviews with Dora and texts by former Surfer magazine editor Drew Kampion... are combined with nearly 100 photos and stills from photographers, filmmakers, and Dora's personal albums." Does this book do Dora justice? No, I don't think anything could. But it certainly allows us to see another side, one that wasn't commercialized, cut, pasted and promoted.

Classic CJ Nelson



CJ Nelson surfing a ten-foot South Coast log dubbed the 'Classic,'which was shaped by Ian Chisholm.

Georgetown Art Attack

A selection of 35mm photographs from our month long motorcycle trip to Mexico will be on display in All City Coffee during next month's Georgetown Art Attack! So if you're in Seattle, stop by the coffee shop and say hello, check out a dozen of the images from our adventure, and then join us for a couple cold ones afterwards. The art walk runs from 6-9pm on Saturday, April 11th. More info is available HERE.

AlunaGeorge



What I've been listening to lately...

Ballast Point's Sculpin IPA

You'd like to think that all IPA's are sorta the same. An India Pale Ale, as described to me years ago, was developed as a means to preserve beer as it traveled aboard ships from England to India. The added hops allowed it to still be beer when they arrived. And so on. What one expects when pouring the contents of an IPA into their snout is a strong, sometimes bitter, beer that'll "make you chew your face," wondering why you hadn't purchased a Pilsner. And then, you want another... An addiction perhaps? The IPA, though, is not created equal. I've been on a mission these last few years to find one that is delicious, strong and can be consumed more than once, er, thrice. An example: Russian River's ever popular, almost infamous, 'Pliny the Elder.' This is a beer that registers on the schnocker'd scale at around 8%. It goes down all too easy, and after three or four, leaves you feeling like fuck. Another example: HUB's Abominable Winter Ale, which until recently was one of my favorite beers. It, however, tastes like shit as soon as it gets warm and, unless it's cold outside, seems like overkill. Enter Ballast Point's Sculpin IPA. At a hearty 7% ABV, Sculpin is nobody's bitch. But at the same time, she goes down smooth - almost easy - and can be consumed during all four of the seasons. I don't want to get into all the nuances. It's just beer after all. But I can say that of all the IPA's I've been drinking these last few years, it is by far my favorite.

Here For Now



Short bit of film shot by Dustin Miller for Jack Spade, featuring Mikey DeTemple and Kassia Meador.

Danner's 2015 Stumptown Collection

Our friends and Danner just unveiled their 2015 Stumptown Collection, an assortment of shoes and boots inspired by the Pacific Northwest and the companies roots in Portland, OR. Having worn a pair of Danner Lights during our latest motorcycle adventures in Mexico, I am more than convinced they make the best boots, period. Whether I was sliding - on my ass - across the highway two hours south of Ensenada, hiking over sand dunes near San Quintin, or descending into a dried up river bed to watch Trophy Trucks blast their way out down the Baja peninsula, my Danner Lights survived all the shit I threw at them, and then some. Their new collection includes some handsome looking moccasins, chukka boots and a lightweight iteration of their classic template, the Mountain Light. Oh, and our friends James and Jordan from West America are responsible for their latest lookbook!

Sea State



Jack Martin and Luke Allee surfing Newport and Huntington. Shot and edited by Thomas Green.

"Mondays ain't so bad... It's your job that sucks!"

When I had a desk job, I would daydream about surfing on Monday morning, when the weekend warrior crowd - myself included - had returned to their shitty urban existences. I would look at weather reports, surf forecasts and the few cams along the coast. Photos from friends that lived out west would make their way onto the internet, highlighting a swell I could not surf. Sad. When the weekend would roll around, I was all too eager to escape. Sometimes we'd head west without looking at what lay ahead. Foolish. Now that I am an independent contractor, working from wherever I want - and whenever I want for that matter - the ability to surf during the week has become a reality. Whether it's a Monday morning, Thursday evening, or shortly before sunset on Sunday, I can now surf when I want, not when I am allowed.

An example... We've been dog sitting for friends these last few days. Double wiener dogs: Maggie and Millie. Wrapping up a bit of work over the weekend, and allowing the rain and foul weather to make its way inland, we skipped town on Sunday afternoon following a late breakfast. After burgers at The Bushwhacker, we parked in front of a friends place and called it an evening. The sun was what woke us on Monday morning, peeking through the back curtain of our cargo van. We ate a quick breakfast before heading west in search of surf. On our way out I noticed my friend Cash's van parked just outside of town - my guess was that he'd caught a ride all the way out, having seen the same forecast as myself: offshore winds, waves about waist high, clear skies, the works. And that is exactly what awaited us. Cash and Nick were already in the water. I snapped a few photos through the trees and then slipped into my suit and began the great stoke harvest.

Forecast



The all too familiar sounds of NOAA's weather band broadcast. Shot and edited by Mikey DeTemple.

Six Reasons Wetsuits Don't Suck

As much as I might complain about wearing one, wetsuits are really quite incredible. Within my lifetime they've gone from bulky, expensive ocean activity outfits, to thin, flexible, affordable and extremely warm outerwear. Jack O'Neil really does deserve an award or something. Because without his innovation, all of us cold water surf seekers would go without waves - surfing only in the summer months, when the sun shines high in the sky. This realization really resonated with me these last few months, as the weather turned from fall to freezing. And albeit a bit colder, my ability to surf was all but unimpeded. Yes, gloves and booties are no longer optional accessories, but at least I'm able to spend three or four hours in the ocean, seemingly unaffected by the rain and the wind and forty-five degree water. So that got me thinking; what are some of the other advantages that come with wearing a wetsuit?

Closest Sea



Not to crack an egg before buying a frying pan... I can say that Kyra and I might be headed west in something like six weeks. WAY west... To a place I've always dreamed of visiting. Where we'll surf, ride motorcycles, drink whiskey and eat EVERYTHING! Stoked? You bet. Been browsing the intersphere for surf shit from that side of the sea. Found this fun little video shot by Tsukasa Tsujishima. Stay tuned!

Finterview: The Phi-n and The Flowthru

Many months ago, while visiting my infamous friend Mike - math teach, father, friend and fellow swine slider - I asked him about a board I'd seen on his blog, something he called Blackstoke II. It was a pig shaped by Marc Andreini with a traditional style skeg affixed to the far end. Only this skeg was hollow in the center - a "flothru" fin Mike informed me. Obviously interested, Mike explained its origins, described how it surfed to the best of his abilities, etc. The next time I was in town, Mike laid a blue folder on his kitchen counter - inside was roughly 1,500 words regarding 'The Science of Surfing.' I won't divulge too many details, as I believe this story will find its way into a surf publication sometime soon, but what I can tell you is that tucked into the back of the folder was a sketch of a skeg, affectionately named 'The Phi-n.'

Math equations danced around the drawing. Mike had even cut one out of graph paper, and placed it atop a tracing of another skeg, so that he could describe the differences more effectively. And so that I could see. His 'Phi-n' was shaped using science, er, math - whichever. The conversation took a turn, and then Mike disappeared into another room to nap with his daughter and three of his five dogs. I was intrigued. A few weeks later Mike sent me a message: "Matt is making me another Feral Pig! It'll be white, with a big yellow cigar stripe and a fin-box." Wait... "A fin-box? What the fuck for?" I asked. To which Mike replied, "You'll see." And then came an image on Instagram. A snap shot of David and Mike's collaboration - two fins, each extraordinarily unique. I've asked Mike to give us a bit more info about both. Follow the link to learn more.

Log Riding in Barbados



Cyrus Sutton shot this beautiful short film while logging in Barbados (via Korduroy.TV)

"You've Gotta Be Good Before You Can Be Great."

I'm struggling with the words. This place, how beautiful it can be. Isolated from all the nonsense, all the noise. September was the last time. We had ridden our motorcycles from Seattle to the sea, camped on the coast, and then headed north toward Lummi Island - what would be the end of our month motorcycle long trip around the Pacific Northwest. I didn't surf in September. Instead, I jumped the little dirt "road" that cuts across the campground, hiked into hidden spots, found a few new ones, spent time at our favorite coffee shack and then turned and rode back on the same highway that carried us in. During our stay last summer, onshore winds blew a light mist across the beach one evening. Blocked only by the tall trees that separate you from the sand, you would be misted like an unsuspecting shopper in the produce section of PCC when you walked past any one of the beach entrances. It was wonderful. As was our entire experience that week.

This time, however, we arrived with the van and some surfing boards. It was a last minute decision. With our list of obligations growing ever shorter in Seattle, Kyra and I decided that an old fashioned 'get the fuck outta town' was in order. So we loaded my logs into the van, found our warm wetsuits and headed west. I haven't surfed since October, when we had stopped at San Onofre before crossing the border into Baja. And while it's a lot like riding a bike, the longer you stay away the more you'll suck - as far as I'm concerned. My four month absence was felt immediately. The first few were weird. Balance a bit off. But like any good addict, old habits die hard, and within an hour a great deal of stoke was being harvested. Winds blew offshore all day... for two days. The sun, it was there also. Something like sixty degrees. Friends we hadn't seen in forever arrived in the afternoon one day. Campfires, cold beers, hot dogs in brown buns, and some of those epic fucking sunsets you only see on our side.

Skipping Breakfast



Beutiful bit of film featuring an assortment of Aussies surfing Noosa (?) before breakfast.

Egadz



What I've been listening to lately...

The Coffey Cabin & The Coffee Company

I've been living out of a van for the better part of a year now. You know the one - she's big and white with an overbuilt bed. I left Seattle at the end of February, headed south in search of surf, and so on. What awaited me was, well... you can read about that here. Fast forward a few months, and I was back in Seattle, packing my belongings into the aforementioned cargo carrier, preparing for a return trip to the Golden State. I spent the next few months living in the Los Feliz neighborhood of Los Angeles, working remotely and surfing Malibu more than a few days each week. At the end of June, Kyra's dance school came to completion and we headed north (again) in order to attend the annual Touratech Rally, as well as spend the remainder of the summer in Seattle preparing for our month long motorcycle trip to Mexico.

During our summer in Seattle, a friend of mine reached out regarding a local, independently owned coffee roasting company that was in need of some social media assistance. I jumped at the opportunity - despite my attempts to convince them to allow me to work remotely. A steady source of income and a chance to expand my skills beyond the surfing and motorcycling community was reason enough. So I sat down for an interview with the Marketing Director, Public Relations Coordinator and Digital Media Manager. Things went well, however we were just a few weeks away from our departure to Mexico. "No sweat," they said. "We're not looking to hire anyone until the end of the year." Perfect! A few weeks later, Kyra, my father and I packed our bags, our bikes and our vans and headed south... again.

Throughout the duration of our time in Mexico, and the weeks thereafter that we spent in Southern California, Las Vegas and Arizona, I never received confirmation when I was to start work, or whether I had even been hired! Emails were sent. Feet were dragged. And then, after extensive conversations with the coffee roasters liaison, I got word that I should come back to Washington. "Are you sure? I don't want to leave this sunshine shit for a 'maybe'?" I asked. The answer was affirmative. "Come on up, we want you to start the first Monday of the new year." And so we packed our shit - yet again - and departed the comfort of California for the cold (read: shitty) weather of Washington.

That Monday I walked into my new office and assumed the position. I really can't complain, though. It was a cool company with an eclectic marketing team, willing and able to do things the corporate coffee companies couldn't. Not more than three weeks after I had arrived in their offices, however, I found myself sitting in front of a newly hired, er, acquired General Manager who had spent the better part of two decades working for the Great Green Mermaid. Why did the independent, locally owned coffee company hire this guy you ask? Money! Duh. And so here I sat, the first of many, no, all in the marketing department that would lose their job that day. WTF?! Yea, you're telling me. A swift move with a sharp knife. Gone we were.

Now you're probably wondering what the fuck this has to do with pictures of an apartment... Well, lets just say Kyra and I spent the entirety of my employment with "The Company" looking for, finding, acquiring and furnishing this; a large by comparison, hardwood-floor-having, W/S/G included, French Fucking Doors, walk-my-ass-to-work, studio apartment in Seattle's shittiest neighborhood, Capitol Hill. It was, er, is a beautiful space that we spent a great deal of time getting settled into. Le Fuck. So, that's what this is all about. A rant. An excuse to show you - Hi Karissa ;) - the short lived apartment of my dreams in the worst part of a city that Kyra and I never wanted to return to. Enjoy!

Blue Panel Pig



Chris from POA Films shot this at Sliders Point during our #peelgrimage to Southern California.

King Wizard



What I've been listening to lately...