Summer Siesta

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It came and it went. For the longest time I can remember, summer is a time of fun, rest, and preparation for the school year to come. As I approach the end of my adolescence, there comes a time when a chapter closes and a new one opens. In my case, this is my last 'summer' ever, as I head into my final year of my undergraduate education.

It came and it went. For the longest time I can remember, summer is a time of fun, rest, and preparation for the school year to come. As I approach the end of my adolescence, there comes a time when a chapter closes and a new one opens. In my case, this is my last 'summer' ever, as I head into my final year of my undergraduate education.

Summer came to an end almost a week ago exactly, and I've already been back to hitting the books. It's a daunting feeling, knowing the freedom of summer has escaped me, and for the next several months I understand I won't be spending much time in the outdoors. But that's okay. Seasons come, and seasons go. I'll have my day. Here's a few photos from some of my favorite moments of summer.

Summer came to an end almost a week ago exactly, and I've already been back to hitting the books. It's a daunting feeling, knowing the freedom of summer has escaped me, and for the next several months I understand I won't be spending much time in the outdoors. But that's okay. Seasons come, and seasons go. I'll have my day. Here's a few photos from some of my favorite moments of summer.

Ed waiting for the tide to drop.

Ed waiting for the tide to drop.

Cousin John, moments before a big fish hopped onto his life.

Cousin John, moments before a big fish hopped onto his life.

Wetsuit shuffle.

Wetsuit shuffle.

Driving through the mojave in the middle of summer, with no A/C...

Driving through the mojave in the middle of summer, with no A/C...

Avrie on the trail to Parker Lake, just outside of Lee Vining, CA.

Avrie on the trail to Parker Lake, just outside of Lee Vining, CA.

Moments at home with little sis.

Moments at home with little sis.

Morning cup.

Morning cup.

Wish me luck in my last year of college, as I attempt to get my life together...

Wish me luck in my last year of college, as I attempt to get my life together...

Mas Cafe Por Favor

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The Vandura came to a drawn out stop on the 101 heading northbound as I merged into the left lane and flipped on the turn signal. The brakes, signaling with a vibration of the whole rig, reminded of their deterioration and its urgency to be checked out.  Oh well, for now...  I thought to myself. We crossed the highway and hit the gravel which allowed us to pull up close to the cliff and get a first look at the surf. It was just after 7:30 am. "There's a little bump. Better than anywhere we've seen yet," James said, peering out the passenger window.

The Vandura came to a drawn out stop on the 101 heading northbound as I merged into the left lane and flipped on the turn signal. The brakes, signaling with a vibration of the whole rig, reminded of their deterioration and its urgency to be checked out. Oh well, for now... I thought to myself. We crossed the highway and hit the gravel which allowed us to pull up close to the cliff and get a first look at the surf. It was just after 7:30 am. "There's a little bump. Better than anywhere we've seen yet," James said, peering out the passenger window.

Grip it and rip it.

Grip it and rip it.

My good friend James   took a break from his panamerican moto trip on pause in Alaska to come down to Santa Barbara, hang, and work on another project. Even though we both love working on photo stuff, it gave us an excuse to share laughs, revisit old memories, and enjoy each other's sacred company. "Looks good to me. I'm down to grab a board and wetsuit, hike down, and see if it's worth it to even paddle out in. Worth a shot." James and I had been drinking some coffee while watching waves roll in, and decided we had nothing better to do than go for it. As I stood up to start gathering gear,  3 cups of coffee and a lot in my system was finally starting to work its magic.

My good friend James took a break from his panamerican moto trip on pause in Alaska to come down to Santa Barbara, hang, and work on another project. Even though we both love working on photo stuff, it gave us an excuse to share laughs, revisit old memories, and enjoy each other's sacred company. "Looks good to me. I'm down to grab a board and wetsuit, hike down, and see if it's worth it to even paddle out in. Worth a shot." James and I had been drinking some coffee while watching waves roll in, and decided we had nothing better to do than go for it. As I stood up to start gathering gear,  3 cups of coffee and a lot in my system was finally starting to work its magic.

Cheese.

Cheese.

If you haven't caught up on what James is up to, I suggest you would. An OG sender and forever dirtbag, James is revolutionizing the outdoor world. Along with two childhood friends, they're currently on a moto mission from Alaska to South America, climbing all the great peaks in between. They recently just summited Denali. Even with that going on, he somehow finds time to startup a rad leather company, prototype shown above. Follow their ride by clicking here .

If you haven't caught up on what James is up to, I suggest you would. An OG sender and forever dirtbag, James is revolutionizing the outdoor world. Along with two childhood friends, they're currently on a moto mission from Alaska to South America, climbing all the great peaks in between. They recently just summited Denali. Even with that going on, he somehow finds time to startup a rad leather company, prototype shown above. Follow their ride by clicking here.

Blown out and small.

Blown out and small.

Brent reminiscing about his youth.

Brent reminiscing about his youth.

Selfie. Thanks James.

Selfie. Thanks James.

Pre-Boneless.

Pre-Boneless.

Back to our childhood.

Back to our childhood.

Doing my best to not let my stomach control my morning, I began gathering camera gear, my single fin, and a wetsuit, knowing full well I may be hauling this stuff for no reason. James was loading up on film in the van and rambling on about adventure legends we both really admire. Before filling my arms, I took a second look for any nearby public restrooms or a clearing from the road. Nothing. We started walking down to cross the railroad track as a loud noise from my gut stopped us in our tracks. "I may have to take care of some business before we commit to this," I said, recalling experience from past dawn patrols. "Don't worry about it, we got all the time in the world..."

Doing my best to not let my stomach control my morning, I began gathering camera gear, my single fin, and a wetsuit, knowing full well I may be hauling this stuff for no reason. James was loading up on film in the van and rambling on about adventure legends we both really admire. Before filling my arms, I took a second look for any nearby public restrooms or a clearing from the road. Nothing. We started walking down to cross the railroad track as a loud noise from my gut stopped us in our tracks. "I may have to take care of some business before we commit to this," I said, recalling experience from past dawn patrols. "Don't worry about it, we got all the time in the world..."

Into the Sierras

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"Hello, John Peachey here! I am the very fortunate lad that is cousins with your evidently beloved blogger. Sean and I have been roaming the Sierras for multiple years and nostalgia reaps through the pores each time we saddle up and travel the good ol’ 395. 

"Hello, John Peachey here! I am the very fortunate lad that is cousins with your evidently beloved blogger. Sean and I have been roaming the Sierras for multiple years and nostalgia reaps through the pores each time we saddle up and travel the good ol’ 395. 

From a personal standpoint, it has been unbelievable to witness first-hand the transformation of our innocent childhood obsessions, to the mix of our adolescent stupidity and daredevil phase, to our now blend of young adulthood in which we still garner snippets of the stupidity that fostered unforgettable memories.

From a personal standpoint, it has been unbelievable to witness first-hand the transformation of our innocent childhood obsessions, to the mix of our adolescent stupidity and daredevil phase, to our now blend of young adulthood in which we still garner snippets of the stupidity that fostered unforgettable memories.

The Eastern Sierras are truly a breathtaking phenomenon that each settler must dabble with. From the rugged mountain peaks, to the lively green pastures, to the burbling of winter-fed streams that fill the tranquil lakes, flanked by the heaps amounts of birch trees, the Eastern Sierras are truly iconic.

The Eastern Sierras are truly a breathtaking phenomenon that each settler must dabble with. From the rugged mountain peaks, to the lively green pastures, to the burbling of winter-fed streams that fill the tranquil lakes, flanked by the heaps amounts of birch trees, the Eastern Sierras are truly iconic.

Believe me, I can continue this passage in describing this utter beauty, but what has made the Eastern Sierras so special to me includes the memories that have been shared with family, friends, and the strange interactions with other travelers. Even though I should end my feature here, I would not be doing any justice if I did not share one of my fondest memories in the Eastern Sierras with your beloved blogger.

Believe me, I can continue this passage in describing this utter beauty, but what has made the Eastern Sierras so special to me includes the memories that have been shared with family, friends, and the strange interactions with other travelers. Even though I should end my feature here, I would not be doing any justice if I did not share one of my fondest memories in the Eastern Sierras with your beloved blogger.

I recall very vividly a July summer spent exploring and tampering the depths of Rush creek with our conventional fishing rods. We were reaching the beginning of our elongated adolescence as Sean and I became confident enough to tamper with the creek on our own while also attempting to reel in some tasty trout.

I recall very vividly a July summer spent exploring and tampering the depths of Rush creek with our conventional fishing rods. We were reaching the beginning of our elongated adolescence as Sean and I became confident enough to tamper with the creek on our own while also attempting to reel in some tasty trout.

As an avid fisher, it is impossible to disagree with the notion of reeling in huge trout epitomizes a superb day in the stream, however, I truly miss the days when Sean and I would spend hours tying hooks to only lose them in the mere seconds after rigging up our lines by casting them into bushes.

As an avid fisher, it is impossible to disagree with the notion of reeling in huge trout epitomizes a superb day in the stream, however, I truly miss the days when Sean and I would spend hours tying hooks to only lose them in the mere seconds after rigging up our lines by casting them into bushes.

I apologize for this tangent, but I will never forget the time Sean heaved out a world renowned cast in an attempt to land his line right in the middle of this swirling eddie. Unfortunately, Sean casted this rod right into the thickest bush located in the Eastern Sierras, which in turn cemented his line on the other side.

I apologize for this tangent, but I will never forget the time Sean heaved out a world renowned cast in an attempt to land his line right in the middle of this swirling eddie. Unfortunately, Sean casted this rod right into the thickest bush located in the Eastern Sierras, which in turn cemented his line on the other side.

Being in our early years of fishing and possessed a lack of wisdom towards the sport, Sean tugged on his rod for minutes, to only find himself with a rod 5 inches shorter. To this day, I still crack up to the memory and witnessing Sean’s face as he reached the epitome of fishing despair. Thanks for the memories my friend!"

Being in our early years of fishing and possessed a lack of wisdom towards the sport, Sean tugged on his rod for minutes, to only find himself with a rod 5 inches shorter. To this day, I still crack up to the memory and witnessing Sean’s face as he reached the epitome of fishing despair. Thanks for the memories my friend!"