An east wind blew a rooster tail of dust off the dirt road a few miles a head of us in the Valley of the Gods. Oscillating between second and third, the Syncro kicked up its own kicking up its own cl...
We followed US 89 out of the east end of Flagstaff as the lengthening afternoon shadows and dropping temperatures signaled the eminence of the high desert sunset. “How far do you think we shoul...
“It has a really shitty learning curve,” I said to Tim as he sat in the sand with his arms crossed on his knees, still dripping from an outside set. Setting my board down in the sand, I u...
One chapter of Ken Kesey’s Sometimes a Great Notion bled into another as we hummed north out of Los Angeles. The Syncro revved up towards the redline in first gear, obscuring the narrator’...
The Syncro idled roughly in the arrival area of Portland International Airport late Monday night. Glancing in the rear view mirror, I watched the lone police officer maker her rounds, motioning to st...
A year ago I started asking my friends what they would take with them if their house was burning. As an example of what I envisioned the photos looking like I sent around a post I did here. A few wee...
The cab pulled into Granada late Friday afternoon, just as the sun was sinking over the jagged horizon of the volcanoes to the west. Bouncing around the cobblestone streets in a constant fight for ri...
Out of delayed frustration, I rolled over and brushed a gallon of sand out off the cot with a flick of my forearm. Enjoying the newfound smoothness of the unfitted white sheets, I adjusting my head o...
Acting on an impulse I first felt an hour before, I rolled over, and brushed, what felt like, a gallon of sand off the caught. Through the screen window, top 40 hits from yesteryear blared on an over...
The Toyota Yaris bounced down the one lane road through the barren farm land. My tshirt, saturated with gringo sweat, stuck to the wooden beads covering the passenger seat despite the frantic efforts...
I checked my watch. Ten minutes to the T since the last time I looked and still 45 minutes to mid tide. Closing my eyes, I pushed off the ground with my right foot using the same attitude as if addre...
“You made it,” I yelled to Phil as he walked away from a dust covered Toyota Yaris, bags in hand. In Nicaragua, these subcompacts brave the dirt roads, in frequent, white knuckle passages...
The windshield wipers slashed futily at the northwest’s signature rain as the Syncro hummed along at 63 mph up I-5 in southern Oregon. Due to the limited top speed and my frequent breaks to ta...
Corey Smith marched past, brandishing an exaggerated swallow tail with teal bindings. “How are you doing man?” he asked. “Good. Still adjusting to this 9,000 feet elevation shit,&#...
“This whole ocean thing is a relatively new infatuation,” I explained to the hitchhiker sitting shotgun, as if rekindling a friendship with a childhood neighbor. “I’ve spent t...
“Want to go explore this place?” I asked Jason as I flicked a piece of gravel from a scrape on my elbow caused by a slam in the deep end of an abandoned pool. “Yah, I’m over ...
“Could I start you gentlemen off with some drinks?” the waitress at an empty steakhouse in Deming, New Mexico inquired. “Sure, I’ll have a Tecate,” Ed, a staff photogra...
A laundry list of potential obstacles including but not limited to banditos, food poisoning, crooked cops, car problems and drug cartels applies to the US/Mexico border. Horror stories echo around th...
Parked on a dirt road adjacent to a block of second-hand stores in Guerrero Negro, Dan and I sat in the Syncro reading. Pulling my head out of The Monkey Wrench Gang, I looked into the rear view mir...
“You should have been here two weeks ago. Twenty-foot faces,” a voice behind us said. Standing in the sand looking at the ocean, Dan, Trevor and I immediately turned to see a tan, fift...
“Any requests?” “Yeh. Bananas. More bananas,” I told Dan and Trevor as they stood just outside the van in parking lot of a grocery store in Guerrero Negro with a fistful of...
“If not now then when?” I texted my long time friend and frequent partner in crime, Dan, one night in late January. The text was part of a conversation discussing a trip to Baja that st...
I’m Currently in Baja chasing waves and looking for fish tacos. If you’re reading this post it means I haven’t been able to find internet to upload photos. Don’t worry, I w...
In San Luis Obispo, I opened up my iPad and changed the album from This is Happening by LCD Soundsytem to Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys. A drastic change, but it needed to happen. As a child, my dad...
I had nowhere to be and time to kill. The Coleman cooler in the back was packed with enough food and ice to last me a few days. The Syncro’s fuel gauge was just north of 3/4. Quick-mental-ma...
Riding the whitewater on my stomach, I leaned left towards the rocky point of Steamer Lane. Rolling off my board ten feet from the rocks, I landed in waist deep water and felt my way towards the sh...
California’s Route 1 starts, or stops depending on which way you drive it, in a sleepy area of northern Mendocino county known for its “trees.” (I’ll give you a hint; some ar...
“Dude. Did you see that sign?” I said, taking a sip of tepid coffee from my thermos. “No. What was it?” Spencer looked back through the rear window of the Syncro. “̵...
The southern Oregon ccoast feels like no other part of the Northwest. From Portland, it takes five hours to get there along I-5 south with a cut through the coast range near Eugene. Take the 101 f...
This week I’m doing some house keeping, working on a few projects, surfing and waiting for some film to develop. Regular, Tuesday and Thursday, posts will be back next week. In the mean time...
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