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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If you don't know, you're welcome...


The Trials & Tribulations of a Millennial Nomad

It had been raining for days, maybe weeks. We were in Seattle where I grew up, where my father still resides. We were parked in front of his apartment on a narrow street, lined with cars on one side and apartments overlooking Lake Union on the other. Our van, a 2008 Ford Econoline E-150, was sandwiched between an orange VW Beetle and something silver and sedan-like. It was cold. It was wet. It was October. And we had been in the city for far too long.

Living in a van, or out of one in our case, is a romantic idea to many Millennials. Traveling here and there, making a living off the Internet, parking at picturesque campgrounds, overlooking the ocean, or on great swatches of land, where your lady can do yoga and you can brew up a cup of freshly ground coffee on your camp stove. At least that’s what Instagram tells us #vanlife is all about. But I’m here to tell you about the harsh realities of living this nomadic life, when it’s no longer a “journey” and instead just life, lived in a van, maybe down by a river.

Read my thoughts on Expedition Portal (LINK).


Perpetual Motion

Days have turned to weeks, weeks into months, and eventually months have formed years. We're in 'Perpetual Motion,' and our new series will highlight the people we meet, lessons we learn and the experiences we share along the way. Stay tuned for additional info!

K.O. | 2017 OIFF 'Best Action Short Film'

"Intrepid lovers ride their motorcycles through the deep forests of the Pacific Northwest in search of adventure, but what they find may be more than they can handle."

Last Fall, WESTx1000 joined filmmaker Ron Sacdalan in the woods of Washington’s Olympic Peninsula to ride dual-sports, search for Big Foot and make a short sci-fi motorcycle movie. Nearly a year later, the Oregon Independent Film Festival (OIFF) has taken notice and named it ‘Best Action Short Film.’


Five Rolls, Four Countries, Three Months...

Five rolls of 35mm film shot in four countries over the course of three months... There's a bit of everything; an Italian SUV in the Alps, a cocaine palace in Puerto PeƱasco, pet pigs, dick doodles at dinner, the Ducati museum, classic cars in Verona, et al. If you're interested, you can seen more film photographs that Kyra and I have taken over the years on this Tumblr thing.

Days to Darkness

Stoked on this short film from OMEN. Gnar Gnar at 13:35!


Post Malone

What I've been listening to lately...


Arkansas to Arizona

1,706 miles separate Arkansas and Arizona...

It's a distance we've traveled numerous times this year, riding up the East Coast on Indians with my old man, from San Diego to Seattle on a Victory Octane and XC, around England on Royal Enfields, and now from Little Rock to Phoenix through some of the worst weather we've ever encountered. This time, however, we were riding a pair of Scouts we purchased (!) from our friend, Rob Gregory.

The decision to own Indians was made during our cross-country adventure last April. We wanted something we could travel aimlessly on, loaded only with what we need and nothing more. We wanted something American but reliable. Classic but contemporary. And so we settled on Scouts. One red, one black, with zero miles on the odometers.

On our way back to Arizona we hit 40 MPH sustained winds with gusts up to 60 MPH, temperatures that topped out at 42 degrees (which feels like 32 with a wind chill), rain and an army of tumbleweeds that busted a headlight and stopped us dead in our tracks. I suppose this is just the start...

An assortment of 35mm photographs taken with a Yashica T4 are attached.

Three Mornings

CJ Nelson at Capitola and 38th on some of his swine-y shapes. Definitely a back-foot-first sorta surfer.


Fuerteventura in Film

I spent a week on Fuerteventura in the Canary Island for the official launch of a particular Italian motorbike - maybe the new Multistrada 950? While on the island, however, I shot a roll of 35mm film on my Yashica T4, the results of which can be found by following that 'read more' thing (looks down).

My Saturday Morning

Might be taking a road-trip with Mikey... In a Maserati, up the East Coast. #playdate

GoldLink - Crew

What I've been listening to lately...