How did I get here?

I ask myself this question all of the time, and as I am typing this in a first class seat while sipping on a cocktail and reminiscing about shooting two days of surfing with great people in the Channel Islands, I ask again, how the heck did I get here?

However you want to look at it, the whole first class thing was either pure luck, karma (for patiently enduring some flying hassles on the way to CA) or just a really nice woman working at the check-in counter.  I’m thinking a combination of the latter two.

But seriously, how did I get here?  Where did it all start?

You can track backwards until the day I was born to answer that question (or even before that), but a big part of it stems from a trip I made to Ventura, California (the very same place my brother calls home and where I have spent the last week) to see about a van.

            I was terrified.  I had just quit my job, sold my car, moved out of my apartment, started a business and was ready to blow all of my savings (and then some) on a van.  El Guapo (the van) was going to be my house, office, vehicle and only source of familiarity.  Again, I was terrified.  So, voice cracking, hands shaking and stomach turning, I made the deal and drove away with leftover jitters, adrenaline exhaustion and a new world of possibilities.

            But before leaving town I did three things.  I drove to the beach and stood in the Pacific Ocean long enough to get wrinkly feet, I mailed a birthday card to a friend from a local post office and I went to a grocery store to stock up for the trip (and life) ahead.

            This week I ended up at those exact three locations again and it made me think about what those seemingly insignificant places actually mean to me and how I have changed since the last time I soaked in the energy from that beach, walked those grocery store isles or dropped some mail in that same metal box.

            I have changed a lot, my view has changed a lot and my life has changed a lot, but that same passion, drive and desire that put me there in the first place has not wavered.  In fact, I would say it is even stronger.

            And that is how I got here.  So we are clear on this, HERE is not this first class seat.  HERE is living the photographic life and meeting up with new and interesting people along the way.  HERE is a no holds barred, all in style of living, working and being. HERE is swimming and shooting in the surf on a secret break wearing a smile and listening to everyone else laugh, whoop and kid around with each passing wave.

            HERE is what I strive for.  HERE is where I was headed when I first drove the van away from Ventura.

(Wax on, wax off?)

(Thanking the powers that be for this wonderful day.)

(The Dingo keeping other folks on their boats.)

(The Uh Oh feeling.)

            I cannot believe 15 days have passed since my last update.  The only word to describe it would be whirlwind.  There have been too many experiences to go through one by one and I can’t do them justice by picking out which ones are more worth mentioning than others, so I came up with an idea sometime in the wee hours of the morning while laying comfortably (in sheets!) on a bed in my brother and his fiancé’s house in Ventura, California.

            I thought I would just re-post all of my Facebook Status Updates in chronological order and let that help tell the story.  Here goes:

-Working out the next 5 months of traveling, shooting and meetings.  Crazy to think about all at once.

-Busy computer morning, but heading out now to shoot some kiteboarding for the afternoon, awwwe yeah.

-Heading out to the dessert to camp and shoot kiteboarding, in the water.  Crazy.

-El Guapo just got jacked by his own tire.

-Doublejacked.  Immobile on the side of the road round 2 for the day.  Same wheel, new problem.  I’m in for a long tow.

-Van update:  We’re rolling… on a tow truck 80 more miles to go.

-Violent blowout, body damage, shoddy AAA replacement, near wheel loss on interstate, dead studs and wheel, 80-mile tow, 2 a.m. ending.

-Airline lost my flight itinerary = airline reinstating my ticket 20 minutes before takeoff and making me run.  Made it!  (Meant to throw that update on FB)

-On a shuttle to Santa Barbara / Ventura for 2 weeks of surfing, camping, shooting, friends and family.

-Driving through Malibu.  Nutty.

-Ahhhh, San Onofre.  Beaching it till Sunday.

-Driving through Malibu again.  Ferraris amungus.

-Showered and shaven in Ventura, CA after 4 days of surfing, celebrating (brother’s bachelor party) and camping at San Onofre.

And here we are two weeks later.  Even that doesn’t quite tell it, but hopefully it gives you an idea for what all has been going on.

The eastern Oregon camping and kiteboarding trip was amazing!  It was the perfect way to cap off my time in the northwest.  Good people, good wind and a great spot.  Aside from all of that, time allowed for two sunsets of shooting, 3.5 hours of riding (without stopping!), an awesome video edit of the trip (http://www.vimeo.com/6041412) and some much needed time away from technology.

(Morning coffee and kite repair.)

(We camera folk can get a little stir crazy when waiting for a picture to formulate.)

As always, the trip ended and so did my time in the northwest.  We said our sad goodbyes and drove off in separate directions, everyone else back to Portland and myself on to Seattle to catch a flight to Los Angeles.

Enjoying my first long drive in almost two months, I sat in silent reverie, going over my summer of experiences.  It was very peaceful and relaxing and then BOOOOOM!!!!  SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

Adrenaline blasted me out of my zombie-esque state of reflection and put me in priority mode.  I grabbed 10 and 2 (Driver’s Ed. folks) and quickly looked back at the sound to see if the right rear corner of the van had dropped (indicating a blowout).  Nothing, it was really weird.  Knowing something was up with that tire / wheel, I slowly decelerated and got off of the road.  Expecting to get out and see a punctured tire losing air, I was shocked when I found a near perfectly bald donut of a tire left still inflated.  The van was sitting on the inner tube of the tire, and no air was coming out!  Minus one flap of tread, almost everything else was gone, and had obviously given El Guapo a good spanking on the way out.  The whole right rear side of the van was covered in black rubber marks and scratches from the metal interweave in the tire.  Not only that, but the remaining flap of tread had slapped the muffler into the body of the van and taken out the brake lines (found that out later).

In a state of disbelief, I pulled my jack out and had my biggest concern of vulnerability confirmed.  It was the missing scale on the dragon’s belly.  The van was way too tall and way too heavy for my current jack.  I had to call AAA and have someone do it for me.

In that process, we learned that the only jack powerful enough to pick up ole’ Guapo is the “tire lifter” on the back of a tow truck.  Oh yeah, and the threading on two of my studs was stripped.  With six out of eight lug nuts on, I was told I would be fine to go the remaining 120 miles.  Wrong.  Forty miles later I found the same tire / wheel wobbling its way right off the van.  Another AAA call and an 80-mile tow truck ride later, it was finally over and I had 24 hours to get repairs organized, bags packed and plans confirmed before flying to southern California for my brother’s 4-day surfing / camping bachelor party.  It was nuts.

(The remaining tread that slapped El Guapo silly.)

One day and some crazy airport drama later, I landed in L.A., jumped on a shuttle to Santa Barbara, rented a car and sat down for a burrito with my younger brother (taking documentary film courses in SB since he left me two months prior).  I inhaled the two-pound monster and finally felt a bit of relief.  Next mission:  Older brother’s bachelor party.

(A little R&R.)

(Warren, our brave boogie boarder, surveying the scene before shredding it.)

(Our awesome beach.)

I won’t go into too much detail on this one, but logistically speaking, we had 10 guys from different parts of the country join us for surfing and camping at San Onofre State Beach near San Clemente, California.  It was a good time had by all, and the man of the hour said it best on our drive back yesterday. 

“Guys, I had a great time with you all this weekend… but I’m glad it’s over.” 

Bleary eyed and exhausted, we all agreed.

It is a day later and our group emails still attest to the amount of fun we had this weekend and to the extent of how beat we are.

So here’s to you Rush.  May you and Sarah live the life of your dreams.  From the San Onofre crew, we love ya buddy.

            What do full-time van dwellers do in the middle of a heat wave?

            We find a friend with AC and politely work our way into that friend’s home, desktop computer, clothes, groceries and all.

I typically strive to be completely self-contained and parallel the wilderness leave no trace ethics when I stay with friends, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  Last week the Portland, Oregon area saw temperatures hovering around 104 degrees, rendering a very miserable egg in a frying pan kind of existence in the van.  I had no choice.

I am incredibly lucky to have an old high school pal with a commercial freezer for a studio apartment (not literally) and an open door policy smack in the middle of the city.  I moved right in, set up my computer and enjoyed all the high speed internet one could ever wish for.  It’s a small thing for some, but a complete luxury for me.  I even found myself saying something that I am not sure I really meant.  I actually exclaimed, “man, I love working at a desk!”  I’m still not ready to believe it.  I think I was just caught up in the moment and will pass it off as that for now.

But seriously, all amenities aside, it has been great to catch up and be in the company of an old friend.

The second thing van dwellers, or people in general, do is find water and get in it!  From fountains in the city to the Columbia river and the nearby coast, people were doing anything possible to be in water.  It was one of those few circumstances where everyone could understand where everyone else was coming from and it made it acceptable to do whatever possible to regain a sense of comfort, even if that meant leaving work early, etc…  Of course, I followed suit and turned one day into a full on beach and surf kayak mission.