Rookies USA

After spending a week out on the Bukit peninsula I am back in Legian and headed out to visit an orphanage tomorrow. Got some super fun waves over the past week, primarily riding Bingin with a couple sessions at Uluwatu and Impossibles. Bingin is a DK dream with hollow racers and a few turn sections. My first session I picked off a couple of bowlers and scrapped a decent set that lined up for a long barrel. The crowd factor ranges from intensely crowded with donkeys to intensely crowded with locals and donkeys. When the locals are not out the waves come fairly freely as the shifting currents keep the inexperienced wave rider from sitting on the peak. I got a few good shots from Made who sits at the local warung (hostel) right in front of the spot and snaps sequences of just about every wave. My second to last session there he got a solid sequence of a backdoor barrel but I couldn’t bring myself to pay for pictures of a head high barrel sequence so I have just the view to show for my efforts.

Out at Uluwatu I surfed three sessions and got one mind bending barrel. A set came through and I took off a bit late and ducked into a fun overhead coverup then pumped down the line to backdoor an inside section that spit me out just in time to exit via the infamous doggydoor. I rode that one all the way to the beach. Two photographers got a couple shots but the crappy lighting just didn’t do it justice. My last Ulu session was jelly fish central, and the mild stings left a rash that I am still itching two days later. Besides riding waves I have been spear fishing with a guy from SD with worthless home made spears, and snorkeling a bunch.

On the cultural scene I have been overwhelmed with the smiling nature of the Balinese people. They are quick to smile and lend a hand. I enjoyed a bowl of a broth based soup called bakso one afternoon while two local women made prayer offering baskets for an upcoming once every six months ceremony. The ceremony is attended by the entire family in their traditional outfits. They head out to the Uluwatu temple and sit for a twenty minute ceremony that is meant to help unite the family. Thousands of families attend from all over Bali over the two days. The temple itself is a popular tourist destination and the monkeys there are out of hand! They steal anything they can from glasses to flip flops. Then they are bribed with candy or fruit to get the stuff back if they feel like it. The fat males have the system down. I was walking with a French girl when her sandal was ripped right off her foot. The young local boy was paid 10000 rupiah ($1.25) to retrieve the sandal with a candy bar still in the wrapper. I then watched as a Japanese man tried in vein to get his expensive glasses back. No piece of candy was getting those shiny lenses, and the monkey quickly bit off the nose pieces and twisted the glasses to oblivion. The place is a single mans paradise with girls from about every corner of the globe. The warm breezes and dramatic settings make the pheromones flow freely, not to mention what a few Bintangs and shots of Arak will do to loosen up the vibe.

So I am off to visit an orphanage where I will deliver clothing and some cash for a Pismo local who helps run the place. If you would like to donate check out Give Jewelry on Facebook and help them feed the kids. From there I plan to stay a day in Caangu for some heavy beachy and a day in Ubud for some hillside rice paddy frolicking. Transport to G-land is on the 30th and if my money holds out and the swell materializes I will hopefully get some shots worth dropping some coin for. In the meantime I am relaxing next to the pool here in Legian and hoping this mild ear ache doesn’t get worse…

Selamat malan (good night) from Bali,

Wonka

Before retiring back to Boonville for the remainder of summer, Hellmore made a vow to return to Hotel California, a place where dreams are made and dark secrets are revealed. Taras hosted a bbq/tasting at the HC compound with plenty of mid-to-upper-90′s on the Parker scale being passed around freely. The hipstered Orange County attendees were transfixed on the purply goods and Darren’s iPod beats from the get go.

Things were going smoothly up until the Alban Vineyards private stock kicked a nerve with the host. A convoluted story about his out-of-body Romulan experience was quickly followed by the Wes Box chandeliering episode one winter out at OB. “Where the fuck is Erica Schneekloth?,” Taras interrupted himself shortly after, demanding a first listening of his DJ Ukranian Cellphone recording session from some months ago.

Darren dialed it up. Maybe it was the Avila Valley Syrah. Or maybe it was the OJ Simpson Kush. Either way, Taras seemed completely paralyzed by the sound emanating from the speakers. Luckily one of his oversized brows was quivering just enough to prevent the Orange County kids from performing CPR. Taras’ lady came to the rescue shortly after a complaint from one of her divorced friends called for some Top 40. The music abruptly ended, Taras came to, and with midnight quickly approaching, it was time to hit the Saloon.

The Element was showing increasing signs of ill health between late morning Pismo checks and late evening Los Alamos runs. The Dancing Heart Bread from the Flat was taking its toll on Heinous Chanus’ once sculpted physique from his quickly fading polo glory days. And with the recent ugly collapse of AG! and the Twigs intertwining on the horizon, the Giant was in a bit of a funk. Not even that fresh bottle of Copain syrah or the 6′er of seasonal Firestone IPA clanking around in his backseat could wipe the reality of it all away. Gettin’ old sure ain’t easy round these parts, especially when you’re a regular footer in the midst of such a goofy town. Sometimes though, the worst is what you need to bring out the best. A busted rail and a foot injury? Pile it on top as well. This was going to be a session with nothing to lose. This was Chaney’s last stand.

It would only take an hour for Chaney to right himself, finding a groove amongst the shifty lineup out at Black Joe’s on that overcast December morning. He showed up late and left early but bagged more clips than all the others combined. The following vid lays out the evidence from that particular morning along with a few other sessions that were filmed two winters back. It was part of a 12 day stint I had along the Central Coast that witnessed fairly typical Pismo conditions: a few promising moments amongst a rather depressing period of surf. Nevertheless, its always a good time to catch up with old friends, share a few sessions, bust out the video camera and, for someone in Chaney’s position, turn your luck around in a single hour.

Now a year and a half past and instead of the beach, Chaney found himself stepping up to the plate at a church in front of all his closest family and friends. He would pull through again and the media was there tenfold this time to back him. We returned for an extended weekend to celebrate, taking a detour at the Toobs factory and topping it off with Suicide Joe’s 21st in DTSLO for the finale. Good times and congrats to the Chanuses.

Dr. Brum putting the finishing touches on another Toobs creation.

The shaping bay at Toobs.

Pat loves handling big rods while on the job.

Stamp-happy roldy.

The bride and groom.

You stick your half thumb in, you stick your half thumb out. You stick your half thumb in and you shake it all about!

Chaney salivating.

Confessions of a mormon all night at Table 19.

Virginia, Louie, and Brett found this cute little Guido to pose with!

The boogie crew on hand.

Nasty, Lofty, Suicide, Santo, and a bunch of booze.

If 35 was the new 25 and dropknee was the new prone then you might get away with saying that these guys are cool. But sliding around on your knees on a piece of foam with 50k too many salty miles on their rigs, three too many service industry jobs on their resumes, 2-7 too many crazed ex-girlfriends in their backlog, and more concern about their prostate than their social networking status? Far from cool. Unless, that is, you can fly like Willie, flick tail like Roldy, or just plain move water like Hellmore. Then you’re pretty fucking cool.

I spent a week at home with them around Christmas. Most days were shit on toppa shit as Red Dog often bemoans. But a couple brief windows stayed open just long enough to film these dirtballs doin’ there jackstance thing amidst the chilly Central Coast waters. Here are the results – forged with Wu Tang beats and stamped with Rookies approval. It’s the first installation of our 4 for 4 podcast series marking this site’s 4 year anniversary.

You gotta love Cale Moore for his simplicity and his ability to absolutely shred on the knee. Hadn’t heard a peep from him and then boom, he delivers the following goods to our inbox:

What’s up, Thought I would send you some shots I got over the past couple weeks. A good friend of mine recently bought a 500mm and is stoked on shooting, hopefully i can start getting some more consistent shots for the Rookies site or other. I finished Crabbing for the season so I should be around the Central Coast through the summer, hit me up if you come into town for a surf. Hope all is well. All Photos: Seth Croxton.

I’ve been talking to Willie about making it down to one of the DK Wars contests, just has to be the right weekend to work out. A full time position for Morro Bay Harbor Patrol is going to open up in May, so my summer travel plans depend on if I get the job or not. I could definitely go for a quick Pascuales trip. My boat will also be running this summer so I can expand my south swell options, and explore some new spots below Pt. Sal.