Merry New Year

After a few years of utter FAIL, 2010 was one motherfucking great year for me. Looking back I'm not really sure what made it so great. It started with a canceled Xmas/New Years shred trip which led to epic surf conditions at home. 6+hours a day spent surfing caused my first major case of Surfed Out in years. January to March was pummeled with one good swell after another and somehow I was able to time it right and surf my balls off. Then a large chunk of April was spent surfing warm water and dodging drug cartels in Mainland Mex. The summer was, um...um...fuck, I have no idea what happened all summer but I think it was fun. Next thing I knew, fall arrived and I was throwing in the towel on Santa Barbara, quitting my job, and leaving for Indo. Then I appeared in Idaho. And here I am right now. Where it's going to be -20 degrees tonight. Can't wait to see what 2011 brings.

Merry Christmas

Picked her up in beautiful Twin Falls. Just to her right is the mound of dirt that Evel Knievel used in his failed attempt to jump the Snake River.


Went up the Ganjola to mid mountain while I shred the gnar.




Drove north over Galena Summit, past Redfish Lake to Stanley.



Lunch at Tim & Becky Cron's Sawtooth Hotel.




Hope you have a wonderful Christmas. Mama Recluse has been in town for her first Sun Valley Christmas so I've been showing her around beautiful Blaine County. Today we open presents, see a movie, and have a delicious dinner. Have fun everybody.

Big Dumps

Dig Dump from Brown Recluse on Vimeo.

Life has slowed down and so has the rage. After the last year of epic surf and now unfuckingbelieveable shredable pow, my rage meter is at an all time low. Now a days, the only assholes I get to yell at are the retards on the mountain. Mainly fuckers who slash too close to me. We got a big mountain to shred, no need to get all cozy and shit. We've really been getting pounded with snow 'round these parts. We're at an all time high of shovelin and snowblowin. Ahhhh, the simple life. My brain is already shutting down and my career assperations are in the shitter. It's all uphill from here.

endagering species

You got stuffed polar bears laying around your storage unit?
Didn't think so.
Idaho does.

mountain rides

Getting to the pow requires awesome fucking vehicles. Two of my all-time favs appeared before me today. The first was the AMC Eagle, the 1980's version of the 4-wheel drive station wagon. AKA...The Birth Control. You will not get any relatively hot female to set foot inside, but who the fuck cares. These things were so futuristic only computer programmers understood their radness. Then the next was the big yellow 4-wheel drive van. God created vans in his own image. You just cannot beat the incredibleness of a mobile butt-hut with 4-wheel drive capabilities to get deeeeep into the backcountry to dispose of the evidence.

soo bahk do, no?

2010 is the fucking raddest year ever! I'm letting the ADD/ADHD run my life. My shit's been all over the map. Carpe diem. I'm not fighting it, I prostrate myself. I'm just along for the ride. This Nuevo Hefe is getting his shit centered and aligned and not sweating the details. Moving to a new town equals joining a new martial arts gym. So far so good. Haven't had my face crushed by little old ladies just yet.

Festival of Rights

Really been getting after it and makin the legs burn like pistons the last couple days. The snow's starting to pile up along with the Ibuprofen use. Been wall riding and smackin da leeps of snow like I'm surfin. I really like that shit. The funny thing is that I surf goofy but snowboard regular. So it's as if I'm crankin some power gouges on stoney right points that go on for 3000 vert. Crank....smash....crank...smash...crank...smash. That's it. At a couple points today, my board MIGHT have lost contact with the snow ever-so briefly. Scary as FUCK. More mountain should open tomorrow.

Homework

River Run Side


Warm Springs Side


Lovin the commute each day. Less than 1 mile to shred and 1 block to work. My world has shrunk to a 1 mile radius and is completely walkable. It takes more time to warm up the car each day than it does to actually drive my lazy ass to the base. I got to the bottom today and ran into my bro, Billy Olson. If you ever feel the need to drink beer, eat gigantic burgers, and enjoy bicycles as art hanging on walls and in tables, then you should stop by his place, Powerhouse, in Hailey, Idaho. I spent the better part of the day ridin with dude and rediscovering some tree runs and shit. Plus, with the birth of the new gondola, there's a few new runs. It's now 2 pm. I'm gonna pile my sack of shit body into the bed and take a long nap before work.

what the FUCK?

My new overlord,...ooops, I mean new landlord...is Jim Slanetz. He's the 4-eyes on the photographer's right. Dude is blind as a bat without the Oakley Cokebottles. He reminds me of Andy Dick from the movie called Employee of the Month. He and his wife, Karin are super cool so I couldn't be more proud to donate all my hard earned blood money to them each and every month through this long, cold winter of bitterness and despair. For every pound of dead cow flesh I whore at night affords me just one more day of snow shooshing. I shall bring the shoosh and wiggle each and every godforsavenly fucking cold day. Day in/day out. Until eventually....in spring time...when the lifts have dried up and the rivers have thawed....and what's left of my fragile mind hath wandered off and found warmth in heavenly left point breaks somewhere in Peru, Nicaragua, or Mexico....there is.......no more shred....nevermore....or at least for this season.
Shaka! Awwwooooo!!!!

trozo numero dos

pow day from Brown Recluse on Vimeo.

After a night of Oregon Fighting Ducks WIN and a Boise State Bronco LOSS, we woke up this morning to a glorious dump. 2 hearty inches already on the ground and more coming down heavy. We must've gotten 5-7 over the course of the day. More storms are lined up for the upcoming week. It looks like we're gearing up for an epic start to the winter. I've spent a couple days on the hill now and the list of body-part failures is staggering. I expect nothing less after stepping away from the body-rotting desk job. Today I spent a few hours on the hill and my thighs cramped, my fake hip seized up a little, the low back pinched at times, the shins ached, and the right knee MCL buckled. But it's such a good feeling of pain. Pain that means The Temple is getting stronger and stronger. Another couple weeks and my shit will all be re-aligned and powerful.

Innervisions

Liz Clark - InnerViews from www.KORDUROY.tv on Vimeo.

Being back in the mountains reminds me how rad and inspiring people are when they aren't trying to slit your throat for merging out of the fast lane. My years in California were kinda strange in that I got caught up in doing my own thing, most of the time alone. When I got done with each surf session and left the water, I found myself surrounded by people that I had very little in common with so I generally avoided everything. Better to be a hermit or go to the gym I guess. There was a handful of young, punk ass surfers/artists like Albers, Lovelace, Morgan, and Lightgnar that I was always stoked to run into or dropped by their place to say hi and see what they were working on. But besides them, I didn't find all that many folks that I wanted to hang out with. Liz Clark was one of the good ones, too. I worked with her when I first moved to Santa Barbara. She was 23ish and 95 lbs of chiseled confidence who spent all her free-time surfing or busting her ass fixing up some boat to sail around the world. She's what chicks ought to use as a role model instead of some fashion rag full of coked out pukers wearing clown makeup or one of those inbred Whoredashians. I used to ask Liz all kinds of stupid questions, not really letting it sink in that SHE WAS GOING TO SAIL AROUND THE ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD. Then one day day, in January if I remember correctly, off she went. She's still at it 5 years later. I can only imagine the wonderful and amazing shit she's witnessed while cruizin along the coast from Santa Barbara south to Equador out to the Galapagos Islands across the Pacific and is now regrouping in Tahiti. I'll be goddammed if that ain't the correct way to live.

Hundred-Grand-Dan Van

HGD got black-out drunk one night and tried to drive up north into the mountains. He got most of the way till he rolled his girl's rig with his arm danglin outside the window. It was a miracle that an off-duty Search and Rescue dude cruised by the scene a few minutes later cuz he wasn't far away from bleeding out. Dude had some huge medical bills. He was broke and broken, so he laid off the sauce for while. The chick didn't stick around neither. Then he won $100,000 in the Powerball Lottery. Just like that, he took his mulligan and could pay his debts to get back to even. He was finally able to hop back on the boozetrain and get weird. Around that time I remember him annoying the fuck outta me and some friends as I was about to get my Tackle-N-Tickle on with a chick in the local smokey dive bar, The Casino. He was relentless and came after me with a pool cue before I finally shoved him onto the pool table to calm him the fuck down. The bouncers then took over and I'm sure I went home by myself. We're still buddies to this day. About all he has to show from the big lottery WIN is a old bubble window Volkswagen Bus, a sluggish liver, and some permanent arm/shoulder/neck scarring.

8,640 minutes to go

Back in the day, 3 weeks ago, I was fresh off the boat from an awesome surf trip. Then I packed shit up and drove back to 1997. It seems so long ago now that I've stepped back in time to start reliving the glory days. Lots of the same around here even though town has changed. It's been great reconnecting with old buddies. The transition's been so easy, it hasn't really sunk in that I'm 900 long-ass miles from surf. Besides butterin around the living room in my new Capita/Union setup, I haven't stood on a board in 3 whole weeks. No schooshing or slashing. No wiggling nor yelling. None of that. But all is well so far. Steady as she goes. We're down to 1 week till the mountain opens. That's just 7 days till I get to ride some chairlifts and wiggling around the mountain.

lubeless

$1699 later, I have my 2010-11 season pass.
So stoked to lighten my wallet so much.
Grooming and snow guns don't pay for themselves.
T-Minus 2 weeks till opening shred..at the latest.
2 weeks without any board sport, and all is well.
Stay on target, Gold Leader.

There Will Be Snow

I went for a mellow hike through zee woods the other day. The New Recluse has been spending long days in the gymnasium getting The Temple ready for shred season. 7 years of laziness and injury will do that. So I needed to get an active rest day and went for a hike. It's been 65 degrees and gorgeous, but there's a ton of natural snow left up yonder after a big dump 2 weeks ago. I grabbed my cell phone and charged out into nature. The hike was cut short when I saw some giant animal tracks in the mud. Using my extensive mountain-man skills, I immediately accessed the situation. I've become soft in California, man. The thoughts racin through my mind were bear, mountain lion, and horrific death via the food chain. So turned around and went home to the TV. Snow scheduled starting tonight. Won't have to go on any stupid hikes anymore. Woot!

First morning in Dildo Valley Idaho. My new butthut is above The Board Bin, the only real shred shop in a town full off skiers. It's way too nice for this dirtbag. That house across the street is Java, the coffee shop, my internetting source. I've slaved a couple nights at the Pioneer Saloon, selling meat. You can't beat our meat. Looks like I'll be more of a 40-year-old-waiter than a boozetender. But either way, FUCK IT, I've got no responsibility. Lots of old bros still lingering around. Some burning out, some living the dream. I still haven't built up any rage due to zero responsibility and hot mountain chicks everywhere. My coworkers have some hate, but I just stupidly laughed my ass off all night. So my winter is falling into place nicely. Just need to rebuild some anger.

eat, surf, sleep

After flying for hours and pissing in nice toilets with flowers & fishtanks along the way...




I sweated nightly in Bingin underneath a fan.








Spent lots of down time eating Mei Goreng and staring at waves.







Clowns to the left of me...




Jokers to the right....





The price of freedom was $5 a day....



Goofyfooters heaven on the other side of this cave.



Sometimes you had to fight for the tube....





But there always seemed to be some tubes

Head NW, old man

"Head north, retard". That's what one of the overriding voices in my head commanded me to do. So that time has come. Today I loaded up the rig, strapped snowboards & some emergency surfboards to the rack, and drove past Rincon one last time on my way out of town. Down the 101, out the 126, over to the 14 which turns into the 395, then a right onto the 6 and I find myself spending the night in Ely Fucking Nevada. After getting a budget room I dashed over to a casino and tried to rid myself of a hundo. I was down to my last $2 pull when I won $140. I whittled it down to an even $100. So walked out even...a winner. It's Halloween party weekend and it seems like everybody in the casino is dressed up like smokers.

The Drifter

Still stuck in Bali. Today I saw some monkeys fucking underneath the bridge at Padang Padang. There was a giant, loud commotion and all kinds of monkey screaming. Me and the group of Euros, Brazilians, and Indos scattered around me looked back just in time to behold nature in all it's glory. Every nationality laughed out loud. This all went down after a long, 5 hour surf. I got to the beach during a major downpour and a river was running down the steps and through the cave. I paddled out in poopy water and there was some kind of surf school sticking to the rights. I had the better lefts all to myself for a couple hours. Then an Ozzie and Canadian came over to steal my thunder. It was cool. They weren't getting many and I just picked off the good ones. It just got gnarlier and faster as the tide dropped. Paddled till my arms fell off. Then I smoked a clove, washed really good with soap, stuffed my face with fried noodles, and now I'm internetting. Slothing till I head back later this afternoon.

lack of posts

I'm on the road in Bali, sweating my balls off and surfing my brains out. Today, after an awesome morning sesh at Padang Padang, I cruized up to the local Nirmala to pick up some Johnson's & Johnson's Baby Powder, so things are looking up for the latter issue. Lifesaver, to say the least. After a rough start to the 2010 Tour Of Fail, things are really getting incredible. My L4/5 disc in my back blew up on me the second I hopped aboard the plane at LAX. The first couple days were kind miserable pain wise, but I still surfed mackin Impossibles. It's name is fitting at 9+ feet. I was too stupid to realize what I was getting into for my first go at it. I didn't bring a board long enough to get into the waves appropriately. Took some of the biggest dry reef beatings of my life, but came out of it with nary a scratch and some haul ass waves. The last week's been spent double seshing every day. Padang Padang, Bingin, Uluwatu. It's all incredi. Life is good.

The rage will hopefully continue when I get back in a couple weeks if I haven't gone all Hindu and shit.

tuesday in the park

We had a shady little transaction go down at the local park just now. I showed up a minute early and parked next to either a dead guy or a severely passed out gummer dude. Then Ryan shows up with my new 8'6" vee bottom transitional thing that he shaped. Sofa king stocked! I'm loving the vee these days. Now I get the next couple days to ride the piss outta it. And we've got waves.

D, Mother fucker

We're loading up on Vitamin D around here thanks to the past few days of this heat wave. D-MOTHERFUCKER! My fats a little bronzer. And my mind's chill after a weekend of 90+ degree weather and a bit o' surf. It was good to be surfing and see some old familiar faces. Faces that start popping up once the waves start working. I love this time of year. Water's warm, sand is groomed along our point breaks, and storms are a brewin. To top it, I have a new board that should arrive today and I'll get 2 days to ride it before I leave.

when will this end?

I'm not quite sure what will become of me when my face isn't shoved inside cuntputer screen for 8 fucking hours every stinkin day. It's gonna be incredible to recreate all day long then head to the night jobby job all broken down, bleeding, and exhausted. Hopefully I'll still be full of rage. And hopefully I'll find some inspiration along the way cuz I feel like the last month has been worthless. I've been so focused on organizing the big move and I've been sick, so I haven't done much else. My brain is dead. Today I ran out of internets around 8:43 am. So I've spent the rest of the day clicking every few minutes between Facebook, Surfer Mag message board, and a handful of random blogs wishing that somebody would update their shit. The light at the end of the tunnel is October 3rd. One last delivery run then Bali just over a week away. That's the carrot dangling in front of me.

Support real shapers

First of all, let me quote our furry little friend, the great Paul "Pony Keg" Farell and say..."the sun shines on a dog's ass once in a while". I am the luckiest surfboard shaper ever. With limited skills in virtually all areas, I'm fucking amazed that I can work sandpaper corectly, let alone build a surfboard that rips. Somehow I have done it. I took my new board on some test spins over the last few days on gutless, junky, & foggy waves and the fucker works. It actually works. I started out with the Quad fin setup and hated it. Stupid fucking fins. It seems like I'm equally retarded at riding quads as I am thrusters. My final judgement on Quad Fins will have to wait until I'm able to try it again on real waves. So I switched over to 2+1 and it fucking lit up. Plus I took off the booties and I quit snagging my toes on every pop up. I rode mostly chest/almost-shoulder high crap waves, but it was goooooood. So good, that it's made the final cut to go along to Bali. Out with the Channel Islands Single Fin and welcome aboard, fatso.

So let's break this down. How much did it cost to "shape" a board that works?

Blanks-(I fucked up the first one)5 @ $65 = $325
Materials- Roughly $200
Power Sander-(never used) $35
Planer- $65
Glassing- 4 @ $220= $888
Total $1505

#4

My latest attempt as shaping a surfboard is done and ready to shred. Picked it up from getting glassed yesterday, and I'll take her for a test spin later today. This looks like my most most ridable shape to date. A bit of a tri-plane in the nose, to a single concave in the middle, to a mellow vee out the back. I went wide, about 22", cuz I like it that way. And she's kinda thick at about 2 3/4. Over all it's about 6'2". I love the 2+1 setups cuz you can make big, swooping bottom turns. I'm not sure I've ever smacked the lip, so I'm not trying to fool myself. But I also threw in the quad boxes because I've never ridden a quad. They seem neat.

Jimmy Busey

While in dirty old Mexico last April, we made an afternoon pitstop to el dentisto for mi amigo Jimmy Robb. Dude needed some work done on his chompers and apparently Mexican dentists are having a 80% OFF SALE everyday. Plus we needed some pharmaceuticals stat. So Jimbo took one for the team, sat under some duct taped machines, got drilled, and had some fairly sketchy medical procedure for the benefit of the group. Now that he's back home in Porkland, he's having more work done. He wants to look more like the sexy Gary Busey. It's coming along incredibly. I'll try to find the Mexican waiting room and "before" pics tonight.

I am a patient boy, i wait, i wait, i wait


He's the one they call Dr Feelgood
He's the one that can make you feel alright

Black Dildo of Death

Everything's falling into place nicely. Heading back to the hills means new gear is required to destroy the upcoming La Nina. Even though I don't ride much anymore, my old 2003 Unity is beat and needed replacing. Moby, over at Capita Shredquarters hooked me up with a deal on a Black Snowboard of Death. To be honest, I don't understand much about the new reverse-camber shit, sintered vs extruded bases, sidewalls construction, or whatever else they describe. All I know is that it's got a flex rating of 7, so I'm all good.

the BMW

There ain't shit going on round here except prepping for the vacation and the move back to the Potato State. Go Broncos! Between winding down work, the gym, being sick, and not surfing, I've been busy stuffing my crap in boxes for indefinite storage. I've taken a few loads of this shit over to my buddies barn. The other day, from deep in the barn's bowels, he lifted a dusty tarp and busted out the iZetta Clown Car. It fits in the back of a pickup truck and collects dust most of the year. Finally the sun came out and it was time to burn off the cobwebs. No homo.

The iZetta from Brown Recluse on Vimeo.

"uuuuugh"

I'm on the road today and tomorrow. While I'm spreading the gospel, here's an awesome 6 seconds that I just can't stop laughing at and I have no idea what the hell this is. I can't believe more 4 million people checked this out before I even saw it. My internet powers are a disgrace.

i can see your shavasana

My flexibility sucks. The hammy's are a mess right now which leads to low back tighness which leads to a shitty foundation for roundhouse, push, or axe kicking. I keep trying to find more time for stretching. Just found some inspiration.

Rosa Acosta - Sexy Stretching from Gene Geter on Vimeo.

Surf, sleep, grow beard

The gameplan is coming together and is pretty much finalized. It goes a little sumpin like this:

-Move out of condo on September 30th.
-Very last day of Sex Waxing is no later than October 1.
-Pack up 3 surfboards, 2 leashes, 3 board shorts, iPod, and road porn.
-Store all my other shit and Subaru in friends barn.
-Fly to Bali October 2-27(if released from Sex Wax early, I fly out sooner and max out the sloth).
-Slash waves, surf balls off, and grow beard.
-Come back to Santa Barbara and trade out gear.
-Fire up the Subaru, load up snowboard, and all my winter shit.
-Drive fast as fuck towards my new home in Sun Valley Idaho on October 28th or 29th.
-Arrive in time to get shitfaced on Halloween, and practice my tackle and tickle technique.
-Wake up hungover as hell with sharpie penis drawings all over my face.
-Start work around November 1st.
-Shred much gnar and stop giving a fuck.

I'm a quitter

Step 3...Resign and solidify departure date as September 30th. Done! It's not you, it's me. Thanks for all the wonderful years of employment, cool experiences, insight, and whatever. There's just too many things I've gotta do and being stuck at a desk is not one fo them. I need to go worldwide and get rad...or fail trying.

Lou's the man...

there will be blood

Almost 7 years of living in Santa Barbara are winding down.
It's more than double my usual time in one place.
Big fear of stagnation and not evolving.
More frightened of becoming boring.
I hate old people my age.
I hate golf.
Wanderlusting for something new.


Here's my prediction for my future...

we're getting somewhere now

Step 2...Confirm high tipping, zero responsibility, night-time bartending gig and starting date. At no time during the winter will I have to work during the daytime unless I feel like it. Which will leave me approximately 150 days to slash the fuuuuck outta shit and break something important. Bald Mountain is the hill and it's good. Nearby is Jackson and Targhee, Pomerelle, and Bruce Willis' Soldier Mountain. It's like a working vacation. I love Santa Barbara, but as one of my dirtbag ski bum friends says, "it's full of people that I have nothing in common with". It'll be great to get back to a town full of poor people living the dream. Good people. My people.

chasing the dragon

Step 1...Give notice that I will be moving out of condo at the end of September. It's been the first place in the last 3 years where the roommate is cool, the place is clean, we have cable TV, and it's big enough for most of my shit. It's a new place to me and I'm really bummed to be moving out so soon but the mid life crisis must take priority. And just like that, the vein opens wide as I slip the needle in.

Tails

As I get ready to make some life changes and possibly moving to a landlocked location, I decided to shape another board. I figure this is my best chance to shape somehting that actually works well. And it's just another thing to strap to the U-Haul. It would be really cool to make some legit turns on one of my own creations. I just might have done it this time. Ryan lent me his shaping room and I lent him some foam dust. The new Holy Grail is roughly 6'2" x 21 x 2 3/4. On my first 3 boards, I left the deck a little too think and the shit doesn't get on rail. It rides really flat, but fun enough. This time I thinned them shits out and should work better for leg snapping gouges. Now I just need to work on the tail, which I'm not totally stoked on right now. It's kind of a lumpy rounded square that I'm gonna slowly, passionately transition into a nice beautiful round with some 280 grit. Swell coming soon.

On an unrelated note, The Champ stopped by the office yesterday and I gave him pointers on how to surf Teahupoo. Good luck pal. Back in '05 he pulled off one of my favorite waves ever. Air drop, side slipped, lay back, grab rail deep pitted his way to the WIN.