Do you realize what you've done???

10 years ago I quit my favorite job of all time and drove away from Seattle with just a basic gameplan for an uncertain future. At the time I never knew it was the perfect snowboard brand filled with people who held a lot of my same beliefs on what a quality life means. It was a little risky to leave, but at the time the economy was picking up, jobs were plentiful, we didn't know what the Great Recession was bringing, and I was full of hopes and dreams. All I wanted to do was live at the beach and surf my brains out. And it worked out fucking awesome! Why not take that same chance again, only older, a little more experienced, more broken down, but still with those hopes and dreams of an 43 year old? Today, almost exactly 10 year to the day, I'm once again letting intuition, guesswork, wanderlust, ADD, and trust be my guide. Because I am so stoked on the company I work for, it was with a lot of regret that I put in my notice at work today. There is hands down, no better company than Patagonia if you're into action sports, quality gear, and supporting the cause. I didn't necessarily love my particular job, but I would've stayed there forever if it was located at the beach instead of Reno. There's a slim chance I transfer somewhere inside the family, and I'm working hard to make that happen. But that's really beyond my control. I have 2 weeks until I don't need a clock of any kind and can wake with the sun and go to sleep by the moon. I'll spend every single day biking, hiking, clownin, slapping high fives, drinking coffee, inter netting, slothing, reading, fishing, and/or surfing. Even with a tuneup on the Subaru, and since I live relatively low, I have roughly 200 days worth of cash to burn through before I must make a decision. And I also have 65,000 Alaska Airline miles in my back pocket. That's all before the emergency fund gets drained.


“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown”
― H.P. Lovecraft

So with a bit of fear and in no hurry to just take any old job, I'm gonna take a little adventure and try to shake that out of my system. First stop is Idaho...as long as it doesn't burn down before I get there. The mountain bike trails in Sun Valley are gorgeous and empty. There's friends and fish I need to catch up with over there also. After a couple weeks, I'll head north to Lewiston and catch up with my old man. That town blows, but my step mom just had a quick scare with the dreaded cancer. As quick as possible, the Seattle leg of the 2013 Jeff Experiment begins. Hope to catch up and surf with The Worlds Greatest Landlord, By By Bybee, World's Worst Dad, and possibly Galapagos. There's a surf zone in the Pacific Northwest that seems to be calling my name. I will have to go see what's going on over there and camp among the moss. When I get into some sort of surf shape, the plan is to head to some long, cold water left point breaks, possibly Chile Chile has those, and it's been in the back of my mind for quite a while now. Empty, cold, lefts. I'll head down to Portland first to hang with my mom and brother for a few days. There are just way too many P-Town peeps to pop in on, but I know where to find them. Plus my family can look after my camper and car while I'm out of country. I'd like to work on my Espanol while I'm in South America as well, and I'm in luck. There's an awesome school in Pichilemu. After surfing and cramming my brain full of knowledge, then it's onto the completely unknown. I'd love to expat somewhere. Or I'd like to end up back in Santa Barbara. Perhaps I end up back in Sun Valley slingin Hendricks & Tonics with a cucumber slice to my old boss Gumby all winter. I'm letting people, experiences, and Dumb & Dumber be my guide.

Walker River

My camper needed a few minor adjustments after test camp #1. The door handle nearly fell off last time due to all the rattling and a few other screws got the Loctite treatment. Then it was off for test spin #2 the last couple days. Since there was no surf in the forecast, I set sail south, down the 395, along the Eastern Sierras with no real schedule. My only plan was to drive till I was bored and/or felt the need to stop. Only a couple hours and it was time. That first night was spent along the West Walker River breathing fresh air and reading next to the fire. I like fire. Fire good. Fishing along the river the next morning I landed a few mini fish, but the water level was very low and the going was slow. So I packed up my shit and moved down the road to the East Walker River where all the big fish live. I wasn't fishing at the best time of day, but there was a big ol thunderstorm heading my way and it was now or never. The river has some really hard access points, it always seemed like I wanted to be on the other side, but no way to get there. The first hole I picked was just impossible to reach, too deep, too fast, and too many bushes everywhere. Could've used a machette. So I drove back and dropped in on another hole that was even deeper, way slower, and fish were rising all around. This is where all the big old rainbows and browns lived. And they were safe with me around. Because, although a couple of the littler guys went after the flyies I was chucking at them, they never jumped on my hook. But it was definitely a gorgeous stretch of water that I'll hit up the next time. With the storm approaching it was time get out o there. I cleaned of the grit and grime with some some hot springs near my campground. There really is a lot of weirdos at every hot springs. The night ended with ZzzQuil, a fire, and more reading. I'm very boring. Today was a little more hot springing and fishing. For tomorrow I head back to the desk.

Sunday August 4th

Sweet baby Jesus, please give me the strength to not quit my job this week and hit the road in early September. It's a big world out there with so much to experience and do, but I should remain here, in my cube, waiting, just waiting, like veal. And for Christ's Sake, I should not be camping along Trail Creek, biking over Heidelberg Hill to Adams Gulch to Chocholate gulch, and fishing the Big Lost with friends in Idaho before hopping a plane to South America for a month or two even though I can use my miles and the whole trip would be really cheap. There is no reason I should bounce around jobless at 43 living out of my 13foot trailer living my dream when I get back. Just stay the course, steady as she goes. Keep loading up the 401K and fixing the body with the health insurance. Live for the 2 Days off each week and occasional Paid Holidays. Stop dreaming please.

The Program

Mid way through summer and I'm just getting into the swing of things. A wonderful cortizone shot a few weeks ago knocked out the iliospoas tendonitis pain in my hip...for now. So I've been ramping up the spandexing. I'm pretty sure I saw mountain lion and bear tracks during today's ride up at Lake Tahoe. Also, my camper is campable and near remodel completion. A little more finish work and the Boler will be 100%. So I went camping last week as a test. Although, in all honesty, the camping consisted of backing into my buddies driveway in Crapitola and surfing my face off for a couple days. My last wave of the trip was all time. I'd been watching the waves and noticed random giant wide-swinging set appeared at regular intervals at a peak between the Hook and Sharks. So I claimed my peak and picked off tons of smaller ones between the bigger ones. Then an overhead, near-closeout wave popped up and I scored the pocket for what seamed like forever, just waiting to get ejected, which never happened. Just a screamer for a couple hundred yards. I continued to mindsurf that sucker for the next few days. Next week, on may days off I'm gonna find a river with fish, a trail to crush, a hot spring to soak the legs, and a hidden campground to get weird at. And there will be a bean bomb.

Glory Days

And that is how a 3 day weekend is spent. I thought I was going to be car camping in Santa Cruz. Made a late decision to drive 4 hours farther to Santa Barbara and ended up at my friend's house on the hill. Mellow hurricane swell, bashed some holes in the board, went record shopping (didn't score), ate quality Mexican food, stopped by one of my favorite surf shops that doesn't exist anymore and it had nearly burnt own from a portable meth lab, and general hanging out drinking coffee and slapping high fives. Almost didn't come home. Why am I in Reno again?

Burning Man Special

Needs some minor TLC.
The roof, black, and grey water tanks leak.
Carpet is musty and smells like rotten cabbage (Think Kim Chee).
Engine needs a major tune. Barely fires up.
Entire exhaust system is screwed and rotted away.
Tires don't hold air and are completely dried out and cracked.
Electrical system is blown out.
All window either leak or are broken, and all seals leak.
Runs and drives great.
This ForeTravel (we call her 'ForePlay') is ready to roll. Will start right up and you can be on your way.
Comes with a free sundried tarp and tie down string.

need more adventure, STAT!

Sumatra 2012 from Brown Recluse on Vimeo.

I live in a desert

Damm it's hot, man. But it's a dry heat.



$99 Walmart A/C unit with $900 worth of Patagonia down jackets stuffed around it to create a nice, tight seal against the window.

Bad News Bears

It's time to get away from working on my camper and stretch the legs out in nature. My hip's been broken down pretty bad for a few weeks so I've been focused mostly on non-jock-like activities. That's no beuno for la cabeza. Every ride leads to crippling hip pain the second I get off the bike. But I just gotta get back in the game cuz I'm seriously going nuts and getting skinny fat. I'm dealing with ILIOPSOAS TENDONITIS from my new, larger than normal ceramic hip socket which is supposed to distribute the weight better and last longer. Google all that if it even matters. Basically, any lifting of the leg shoots pain and makes it impossible to effectively activate the muscles require to lift said leg. The only ting that helps is lots of couch time. Fuck that. I just need to bust through the pain barrier or collapse into a festering heap of shit trying. Time to spandex up and suffer up some grinding hills. So today I cruized a half hour away to Lake Tahoe to ride the legendary Flume Trail which hugs the mountains along the East Shore and ends near Diamond Peak Ski area. It's a fairly easy ride, except for the hills that lead up to Marlette Lake. About a mile past that lake is the trailhead to the Flume Trail which is basically flat until the last 3 mile downhill. I wasn't going to ride the whole trail, rather just a couple hill repeats to get the legs burning, ride along most of the Flume, then turn around before the downhill and head back to the car. About 28-30 miles roundtrip, mostly mellow big chainring stuff. Plans changed when I rounded a corner a couple miles short of the turnaround. After living in moose and elk country for so long, I have a habit of loudly coughing or clearing my throat in areas where there's deep brush, blind corners, or areas where it seem like big snarling hooved animals would hang out and get easily startled by some dude wearing bright synthetic skin tight clothing. 20 yeas ago in Idaho I rode around a blind corner while mountain biking and nearly stuffed it into the ass end of a gigantic elk. Well today I rounded a corner and I fucking scared the crap out of a very large bear about 25 feet away. He jammed into high gear and tore off downhill through bushes and breaking small trees. When it comes to sharks an bears, I am not one to hang out and see if everything is all right unless I'm surrounded by steel and have a gas pedal under my foot. Right then and there I decided I'd ridden far enough, let somebody else be bear food, turned the bike around, and made a mellow hasty retreat. All said and done, it was a gorgeous 24 miles.


Marlette Lake glass off

Start of Flume

Sand Harbor

Watertight and shipshape

And from this....

To this....

We're very near setting sail. Steady as she goes. The windows are in and the wiring is being handled...mostly by me so it's slow going. I'll still need to swab the poopdeck, then glue in the remaining wall covering before I re-install the cabinets, benches, and bed.

venting

From this....

To This....

Ditch Witch

Mountain biking along mostly flat Steamboat Ditch, I ran into some 80-ish year old grandma while I'm grunting & straining up some little hill that was maybe 400 vertical feet at best. Right as she stepped aside to let me pass, my lungs clamped shut, my head started spinning, and I lost what little traction & balance I had in the loose sandy dust. So I hopped off the bike so as to not break my last good hip. Granny says to me..."you can't let this little hill stop you", and shakes her head in disgust. "I know, I'm pathetic", I reply. Very pathetic.