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.