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.

            The Butter.  It’s a phrase used throughout board riding sports, and one that always takes me back to my wakeboarding days.  It is used to physically describe a scenario with perfectly smooth water, but emotionally, it describes the epic aura of being somewhere with the skills, the time and the friends to ride with on a surface that melts underneath your edge.  It IS like riding a knife through warm butter.

            It creates a feeling that cannot be described and sharing in it with your friends is very special.

            Last Saturday, I found myself in “The Butter” at sunset with a camera in hand.  I can’t even describe what I saw as I know it is a secret stash around here and I want to respect that.  All I can say is that it was beautiful, and seeing grown men kiteboarding and laughing like children will attest to that.

            As the sun set, the wind changed directions and everyone had to book it out of there in order to get across the river.  Within minutes, everyone was gone and I was standing in a rising tide without a way back to the beach (I was brought over by a jet ski).  I was already coming up with a plan for handling the situation when I saw a small zodiac in the bay.  I walked right out into the water directly between the boat and the setting sun so they could see my silhouette and I got really lucky.  They came over, picked me up and took me all the way back to my van on the beach.  Thanks again, I REALLY appreciate it.

            As the weekend morphed into the work-week, I faced a few new challenges, and though it was more about keeping my head down and grinding through than shooting or planning, that is still a major part of it all, so I am okay with it.

            That being said, my favorite challenge of the week was not about grinding through at all.  It was about feeling.  It was about intuition.  It was about ripping across the Columbia River behind a kite, and it was incredible.  I finally put down the camera for a solid week and spent that time honing in on some new kiteboarding skills.  I have a long way to go, but one solo sunset session in good wind was enough to let me know that I am hooked.

            Unfortunately, that same solo sunset session ended abruptly when I caught a little too much power in the kite while jibing (turning down wind) back toward the beach.  I boosted straight out of the binding straps and landed in the water about 40 feet away from the board.  I have had this happen before and it normally wouldn’t be a big deal, but this time was different.  This time the wind was coming from a new direction, creating a wind shadow that threatened the very flying spirit of my kite.  That is again something that is very manageable, but not this time.  This time I was sitting in the middle of a shipping lane with a barge bearing down on my location.  I made one attempt to tack upwind and grab the board, but the current was carrying it too quickly.  Suddenly, that same decision-simplifying question I mentioned in one of my first blog posts struck me (“at what cost am I willing to pursue my endeavors?”) and it became clear.  I needed to get out of there, even if it meant losing borrowed gear.

            I kept the kite in the air and body dragged myself back to the beach where relieved onlookers were waiting.There was no time for storytelling, I had a board to go find.  I grabbed my creekboat (whitewater kayak) and started the long battle against wind, waves and a really strong current.  The light was fading and I searched every wave and ripple for as long as it made sense to be alone, in a kayak, without a light or radio in oncoming darkness.  We even thought that a newly anchored Coast Guard ship had found it, but a quick paddle reassured us that they had not seen the missing board.

            Talkabout a 180.  Life was stellar, then moments later it was in jeopardy.  That seems to be par for the course in the types of activities I participate in, but that is why you always need to know the dangers, have a backup plan and be ready.  Thanks to good instruction, I knew what to look out for, when to bail and how to rescue myself.  Eli, I owe you a board, but I really owe you so much more.  Thanks for making me very aware from the very beginning.

            On a complete side note, Sportsmobile integrated El Guapo (the van) and myself into their website this week.  I’m glad they feel we are worthy of showcasing their brand.

            Another week on the Oregon coast and I am STILL psyched!  I have had solo morning kayak surf sessions in the fog, beatdowns while shooting in the surf at sunset, lens changes in a paraglider at 4,000 feet, a fire writing experience on the beach at night (tough one to explain), unseasonably good kiteboarding conditions, landboarding lessons, random kitebuggy images, an hour long paramotoring flight, time for creative flexibility and again, great company.

            In my life, I have learned to savor every moment because you will never get them back.  There will always be a time of transition, a lull in the action, a period of unknown outcomes, loss, loneliness or simply downtime.  We all deal with it.  And it is during those instances that I reflect on the lasting moments like the ones I had this week. 

A flying husky, kayak surfing, paragliding over the Oregon coast, a technical camera revelation, an entire day on the beach, fresh seafood and great new people.  And that was just Saturday.

Since then there has been more paragliding, swimming / shooting under boosting kiteboarders and, of course, giving it a try myself.

I have been oogling over kiteboarding for about 10 years and I have never had the time, opportunity and location access to jump in, but all of that is changing.  In case you haven’t read the second to last blog update, I grew up wakeboarding.  I spent every possible minute on the water.  I dreamt about landing the next big move or that perfectly glass calm morning session, carving through the water on a hard edge that would never give.  I lived for the days when it was too good to hold anything back.

My love for riding kept me thumbing through Wakeboarding Magazine, always looking for something new, and it was during one of those page tearing initial flip throughs that I first laid eyes on a man, a board and a kite in the same picture 50 feet above the water.  It was powerful.

On my own quest to shoot more kiting sports and become a part of them as well, I have been lucky enough to get connected with Eli Anderson of Ozone Kites (www.flyozone.com).  He’s been giving me the tour and taking me to all of the local spots, introducing me to his crowd of flying and riding buddies and even showing me a thing or two.

Thirty minutes into my first kiteboarding lesson, I found myself clinging to a sports car of a kite while screaming on a heavy cut across the Columbia River.  I was all smiles.  Coming back was a bit less graceful (or “in control” might be a better way to put it), but I handled it, and now I think I am hooked.  Wakeboarding without a boat is too cool.

I also tried my hand at battling against the 10-12 knot current of the Columbia River while shooting with my water housing.  I was pretty weary about what the kiters’ reactions might be, but I found out really quickly that I was completely welcome.  As soon as I got to the sweet spot, I had kiters gunning for my lens, launching over me left and right, and making me realize I need a brighter helmet.  It was AWESOME!  I found the rhythm of approach patterns and was able to judge my timing by the second pass (The current goes one direction while the wind blows the other.  I naturally went with the current and would run up the beach for the next round.).

The day went on and the sun dropped lower, lending to some of the nicest light I have seen in a while.  I had already been swimming and running up the beach for about two hours, but it was just too good, so I kept going until there were no more options.  By the end of the day, I had been swimming against the current for over three hours, and I was still smiling.  I don’t think that will ever get old.

I also mentioned paragliding.  The whole week started with Eli setting me up with Brad Hill and Maren Ludwig of Discover Paragliding (www.discoverparagliding.com) on a tandem paragliding flight over the Oregon Coast.  It was surreal, and really got the brain working through some image ideas.  After landing, we got a little crafty and the idea actually turned into a reality.  I’m afraid I can’t go into more detail than that, or show any of those images, but hopefully you will see some of them in a publication soon.

Other than that, I took my playboat out into the surf for a nice solo session in the waves and had a blast.  I have always wanted to do that, but never had the chance.  It was one more first in a week of firsts.

I can’t wait to see what this next week has in store.