Pretty Pig

I've been playin' with the idea of picking up another Pig. Classic, not Feral. I know, I should probably surf something else - maybe a Mini Simmons or an Original Noserider - but there's something about the swine. Maybe it's them wide hips or that goddamn D-fin. I've talked about it before, Pig Fuckin' and whatnot. Anyhow, in looking for inspiration I stumbled upon this pretty lookin' Pig. Something straight outta the sixties. With a one-inch redwood stringer, tail block and a glass-bead wood fin. I do desire.

A-frame

Over the last few months, I've become increasingly obsessed with A-frames. An architectural aesthetic popular in postwar America, A-frames were easy and affordable to construct, required little to no maintenance and often came in kits - you know, like LEGO's. So to further my ever growing obsession, I ordered a copy of Chad Randl's aptly titled book, A-frame.

Published in 2004, the book "tells the story of the "triangle" house from prehistoric Japan to its lifestyle-changing heyday in the 1960s." An architectural historian working at the National Park Service, Randl has compiled more than 200 images and illustrations, along with an abundance of information on A-frames and their influence on modern architecture. There's even an appendix with a complete set of blueprints in case you want to build your own!

21 Helmets

Perhaps you're in Portland, or maybe you like motorcycles, or art. Well, if any of them things are up your alley, you should probably stop by the See See Motor Coffee Co. this Saturday for the second annual 21 Helmets show. There'll be some pretty interesting artists in attendance; Shinya Kimura, Drake McElroy, Aaron Draplin, Mathew Foster, Wes Lang and the dudes from Death Spray. Doors open at 5pm. And it's free as far as I can tell.

Memo from the Surf Desk: The Walrus

Lemme tell you a lil' tale about a man we call The Walrus. A salty scoundrel. Rotundus. Rude. He wears a wide, white mooostache and looks at you through small, black, beedie eyeballs. He surfs a SUP sometimes. You've probably seen him, surfed with him, been snaked by him, shot the shit with him in the parking lot, E: All of the above. He's there, and that's unfortunate. Because unlike a lot of other places, we put up with his bullshit. We let him bitch. Complaining when it's crowded. When you're suiting up and he's standing on the shore - "This would be fun for maybe four people." Then he starts counting: cars, kooks, boards and bystanders - "Six, seven, eight..." He'll choke it, the stoke, his fat fingers around its throat, and all you can do is stand quietly at his side and watch as it fights for it's final breath. The Walrus always wins. That heavy breathing sea sweeper. Bastard! But we musn't let him any longer. No more rides in the back of the bummer bus. No more bullshit excuses about crowds and kooks and senile stoke seniority. You can go to hell, Walrus!

Sincerely,

Duke Dangerpants

Heat #2

Some fantastic footage from the second heat of last year's Salinas Longboard Festival, featuring James Parry, Oliver Parker, Tyler Warren and Chris del Moro. (via Jan Latussek)

Some Surf Sunday

It was a weird weekend. Four days and you'd figure we would've found something. But not so much. A little here, not-a-whole-lotta there. Surfed the same spot three outta the four. It was that warm shower, I swear. Found a few Friday morning - waist high and windy. Saturday sorta sucked if I can remember correctly. Had a hell of a good time, though. Friends and food and beer and foosball and way too much whiskey with just a whisper of that sour stuff. Somehow we woke up early the next morning. Maybe it's because we snuck out around eight-thirty and fell asleep in Fargo. Sorry Sanchez ;) Good thing, too, cause we caught waves. Many of them. Most of the morning it was just Joe and I. We picked a peak near the pay shack and shared the stoke. Twinkled some toes and pitched a few pretty turns atop the pig. It was worth the wait. But it always is, isn't it?

Laisser Lucie Faire

What I've been listening to lately...

Ponzanelli & Calvani - Part Two

Here's the second half of Luca Merli's short film which highlights the rather unlikely relationship between Bing Surfboards owner and shaper, Matt Calvani, and Italian logger, Alessandro Ponzanelli.

Stoke Snacks

Karissa and I just spent the last four days with Fargo, searching for surf, playing foosball with a few local boys, eating big ass burgers at the Bushwhacker, watching Lincoln at the Lincoln Theater on Lincoln St., consuming copious cocktails and mining some stoke. It wasn't a bad way to spend an extended weekend. Here's a few photos following our Saturday session courtesy of our friend Derek Sparks.

Topo Designs - Holiday Collection

Our friends at Topo Designs recently released a handful of new things for the Holidays. Made in America, like all of their items, Topo's 2012 holiday collection features a few updated offerings, as well as some all new pieces, to include a fleece pullover, mountain jacket, camp blanket, five-panel ranger hat and an aluminium water bottle. Follow the link and take a look at what's available this winter.

The Faces of Friendsgiving

We spent Wednesday with a few friends. An evening of alcohol, overconsumption and excited conversation about everything from Tussy to the last four-pack at The Longhouse. Good times to go around. Forgoing the Thanksgiving tradition on Thursday, we decided to go surfing instead. Sitting inside the van, looking through the photos from our Friendsgiving, one theme was ever present; funny looking faces. Some strange looks from Shawn and Sanchez. The confused face of Caleb. Salty Steve and Timmy Two Nostrils. And so, without further ado, I give you 'The Faces of Friendsgiving.'Follow the link for a few of the photos.

Surf Scooter

To be honest, I'm not all that stoked on scooters. I leave'm for the ladies. Or them weirdos that ride Sarah Connor style Honda Elites in high-viz vests and half-shield helmets. I dig dirty dirt bikes and old school ironheads. Fast and loud. But every now and then something slow and svelte sneaks into my circle - like a vintage Vespa or a real low Ruckus. Or like this 1976 Honda C70 build by the dudes at Deus, which, as far as I'm concerned, is all kinds of awesome. It's powered by a Honda C100 engine and has 18" wheels front and rear, as well as custom suede seats and a suicide shifter on the side. It's a lil' surf scooter. And it's exactly what I'd want if I were living on the island. Follow the link for a few more photos.

Second Session

You gotta go back when it gets glassy. Forget that fucking sandwich. You can snack on some stoke! I really don't know what I was waiting for. Maybe it's cause I took a nice long shower after our first session - got me all warm and fuzzy feeling - standing in the sand, snapping photos of friends. But the "power of the waves" prevailed. I just couldn't resist. I'll be damned if it's not the drug, and I the junkie. So I put a wet wetsuit on around five after four. Paddled out and found a peak. Some windless waves, knee to waist high. No one else seemed to be enjoying them as much as myself. Big ass bottom turns. High and tight. Ten over atop a proper pig. Jazzed the glass until it got dark. Goddamn it was good.

Affection

What I've been listening to lately...

Dead Sound

A slow-mo loggin' session somewhere near San Diego. Brought to you by Bubba Durket.

What Happens When

So this is what happens when you wait. When patience pays off. When the wind and the rain stop, and some swell shows up. But how were we to know? When we arrived early that morning there were waves, but there was also a lot of wind - sideways shit. But with nothing better to do, we slipped into our suits and swallowed a fist full of fukitol pills - Joe, Charlie, Karissa and I. It was alright at the rainbow pole. A few fun ones. Nothing to write home about.

After a couple of hours, the wind picked again so we decided to call it quits. Paddled in from the pole, put our wet wetsuits in a plastic tub, shared a shower and then ate a few slices of peanut butter bread. Unfortunately, Joe and Charlie had to get going. No more than twenty minutes after they'd left, though, the wind stopped and the swell showed. What dumb luck. Here's what patience provided us.

Rats!

Aaron Cervantes surfing an Aquatic Almond in Newport this November. As seen on Stoke Harvester.

Geoffrey Holstad

I wish I could remember how I found my friend, Geoffrey Holstad. I think I saw his stuff on some sorta website, maybe an inspiring illustration or interesting looking lettering, and then followed the bread crumbs back to his blog. And a damn fine blog it was. Page after page after page. Images and illustrations. Camping crap and all kinds of other cool shit. Then, after I'd browsed to the back of his blog, I sent Geoffrey an email and asked if he'd be interested in designing a new banner for the top of this here blog. Something inspired by surfing and camping and cold waves. Fast forward a few weeks and guess what was waiting in my inbox? That business! (points up). Along with lettering, illustrating and printmaking, Geoffrey is also the founder and director of Cabin-Time, a roaming creative residency to remote places. He's also a surfer, a self proclaimed optimist and someone that likes to listen to jazz! So, what else is there to say about my friend from the mitten? I suppose I should let him tell you about surfing on the Great Lakes and what inspires him to make art in the middle of nowhere.

Nine Six Triumlux

Robin York, Senior Editor at Blue Surf and Travel Magazine, spent some time at Bing Surfboards chatting with Matt Calvani about his new board, a 9'6" Trimulux with a Bavarian flag on the bottom.

Topo Designs Duffel Bag

I've bought a lot of bags these last few years. Backpacks, briefcases, two kinds of totes and a few different duffels. But this one is different. This one is made in America - handcrafted in Colorado from 1000d Cordura. This one has genuine leather lash tabs and a leather grab handle with two big brass snaps. It's lined with a coated nylon pack cloth and has a handful of pockets that are kept closed with YKK zippers. And all the straps are made from recycled seat belts. This is a no bullshit kind of bag designed to do one thing; carry all kinds of stuff. And it's exactly what I need for my trip to Mexico next month.

In The Bay

Watch Matty 'Waxhead' Chojnacki surf a slightly modified McTavish somewhere near Byron Bay. The board, which measures 9'5" x 22.5", was designed by Chojnacki and borrows its template from a stick that Bob McTavish himself surfed back in 1966. Video comes courtesy of Andrew Gough.

Nine Foot & Single

Short bit of film highlighting Deus Ex Machina's second annual '9ft & Single' festival in Canggu, Bali.

Smells Like Skunk

When you surf this season, you gotta know you're gonna get skunked sooner or later. But two (cold) nights for nothing!? Four hours and a few hundred miles for even fewer waves. Yea, I know, it'll make the sweet that much sweeter. But sometimes it's just a little too sour, you know? A lot for a little. And I'll be damned if we didn't get skunked last Sunday. We even got up early to see what was shakin'. Bought a cup of coffee at Bella Rosa and ate a big bowl of cereal behind the wheel - no time for foolin' about now. But it just wasn't working. Nowhere. Nothing. So whataya do when there ain't no waves? You skip rocks... and then you skip town.

The Fine Art of Pig Fuckin'

Surfing swine is a lot like swinging a baseball bat with all those extra weights at the end. It's overkill of course. A warm up before your big at bat. But it's something that'll sharpen your skills and strengthen your style. So when you pick up a smaller stick, it'll feel like everything's a little easier. The rotation. The recovery. You'll come back from the bottom faster than before. You'll pull into the pocket and dart down the line. High and tight. Ready to tiptoe towards the nose.

Your exits will also improve. Because a proper Pig - ten foot and Feral - well, they're unwilling to go under. Like a sailor with those two tattoos. Steadfast. So you hold on to your hog real tight. Ride it out. Surf that shit. You'll also learn to let go, to wait for the right wave and not try to sneak into the candy store shortly before it closes. Patience young pig fucker, patience. Save yourself a swim.

Some people say pig fuckin' is like porntipsguzzardo. That all the extra weight lets you catch waves like a canoe. But with them big hips and that big fin, it ain't easy to turn, to control. It's a lot to love, you know? Hard to handle. But if you can get comfortable with the size of your swine, you'll start to develop a different sorta style. Active. Upright. Maybe a bit more balanced. And then, when the next waist-high waterhill wanders your way, you'll know how to throw that thing around, how to run all the way out and stand on its snout. Because nothing slides like swine.

Deer Tick

What I've been listening to lately...

Slow Left

When I see stuff like this, it reminds me why I shouldn't stop surfing when it snows. That 6mm suits and lobster claws and frozen fingers - all that extra effort - it's not for nothing. Because I'll be damned if Dean Petty doesn't surf the shit outta that Silver Spoon. And I can't imagine he'd complain about the cold or the rain or the wind. Man's gotta cup full of fortitude. So here's to winter waves and sixty minute sessions!

On Instagram

Small waves, strong drinks, motorcycles and misbehaving on the @peanutbuttercoast!

Dano Forte x Captain Fin Co.

Sixty nine seconds with surfer-slash-shaper, Dano Forte. Brought to you by the Captain Fin Co.

A Pig Poem

A few days ago I asked my friend Mike, someone that sure knows how to Surf-A-Pig, if he'd be willing to offer a bit of advice in regards to sliding swine. Cause it ain't easy, you know? Big in the back, narrow in the nose, slow and steady. It takes a gentle touch. Some soft hands. I really wasn't sure what to expect. A diatribe about stop-and-go style? One hundred words about hot dogging? I certainly wasn't expecting a poem about pigs! "A quasi haiku of sorts." You never know what you're going to get with Gnar Gnar!

You'll Be Dead Soon Enough

“Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.”

- Ernest Hemingway

On The East

Dean Petty surfing a 9'10" Original Noserider somewhere near Nova Scotia.

Memory Loss

Because I can't remember to keep a memory card in my camera, I asked Karissa if she'd share a few of her cell phone photos from last weekend. It wasn't really working the way we'd hoped, so small waves, strong beer, horseshoes and hamburgers sorta sums up the experience. We spent Friday night in Fargo watching the first season of Futurama, Saturday morning searching for surf and Sunday sitting in the water, waiting for waves. Really can't complain, though. What else would we do with our weekend?!

Brought to you by Bing

When most people get married, they end up with all kinds of shit they already own. Toasters and towels, sheets and silver serving spoons. Gifts from grandma. So when Ms.Would and I were deciding what to do for our wedding, we figured that instead of allowing our friends and family to spend their scratch on that sorta stuff, we'd ask them to help us buy a couple of Bings. We soon heard the screechy sounds of nanny-nanny-boober-cakes. "Surfboards! You guys registered for surfboards?!" Not sure why she was so surprised. We surf almost every weekend and neither one of us had ever bought a brand new board. So why not skip the shit and get ourselves some new sticks?!

Temple

Affixed to my fridge is a long list of shit I'd like to see before I kick the proverbial bucket. Toward the top of this list is Deus Ex Machina's Temple of Enthusiasm, on the Indonesian island of Bali. I've blogged about it before. About the bikes they build, the single fin contests they curate and some of the shapers they've seemingly enchanted with their black Bali magic. It's an amazing place. Or so it appears. And this trailer for Jack Coleman's forthcoming film about the Temple just reaffirms my desire to depart.

Long Gone

What I've been listening to lately...

Bean Boots

I left my umbrella at the office. Must have slipped my mind. Unfortunately, when I woke up this morning it was raining. To avoid being both cold and wet, I put on my man pants, some warm socks, two t-shirts, a sweater and my Tellason Coverall. But between our apartment on Alki and my office in the Industrial District, I was soaked. Obviously an umbrella would have kept me dry. But not my boots - a real nice pair of Red Wing's that were wet all the way through to my socks. Suppose I need some new shoes. Something other than Servus boots. Something that'll work on the rain soaked streets of Seattle.

Enter L.L. Bean. Made in Maine since I don't know when, Bean Boots are everything I could ask for. Rubber bottomed, not too tall and insulated if you want. Perfect for a pretentious asshole like myself who doesn't wanna look like an unemployed fish flinger. And they're affordable. $169 for the GORE-TEX flavor. Not bad for boots still made in the states. So the next time I forget my umbrella at the office, at least I know my socks won't be wet when I get to work. Just one more thing on my #wishlist.