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.