Three years later, she started the Salty Sweet surf contest, her most memorable one. She's moved this year's event from the pier to the heart of downtown Cocoa Beach and it's now a one-day event. We all support each other, just a good solid network. It was just a great experience. After nine years, she has no plan to expand manufacturing. A girl's gotta pay the bills, you know? Bumgardner has even brought along Grammy recording reggae artist Pato Baton for a free 6 p.
Casanova, P. More: Hobgood surfing stars a big hit at Brevard premiere of documentary. He deserves a lot of credit. Shay Mahoney of Sebastian also surfs the contest every year and, as an artist, makes trophies with her art painted on wood with broken shells, giving them a 3-D effect. She also donates a raffle prize each year. A very quick recap. The waves were horrible and dumb.
Lyons paddled for a wave, Mr. Wagner dropped in, faded behind her and pulled her leash, Ms. Harper captured every motion in crystal clear frame by detail. I was up and riding on the peak and he decides to try to block me, so I turned around him, then he drops in behind me and pulls my leash causing me to fall. If I was a novice surfer I could have knocked my teeth out. I gave this guy every opportunity not to be a dick, hell I even gave him room to share if he was that hard up for a two foot wave.
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Omg that wave was totally yours and he could have seriously hurt you. Pulling a leash is almost like pushing someone. It was a day like any other in Venice Beach, California. I was surfing at Venice Beach pier with a friend for over an hour, all the locals were super chill and friendly sharing waves all morning until Wagner showed up and decided to be a bully.
His name is Wagner Lima. He owns braziliansurfclub. We are filing a police report now that we have more footage from another vantage point. He knew this was a filmed surf session prior to this incident. I watched him from the pier and took a sequence of photos. His yelp reviews are as horrible as he is…this kind of behavior in the water needs to end.
Surfing is about fun. This situation was pure hate. That it was in Mr. One last thing. Two winters ago, we took to Mexico for a video instructional series with Filipe Toledo and Lakey Peterson. To record the event, hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of RED cameras and their myriad accessories were loaded into large bags and dragged all over Manzanillo and throughout the radiant state of Colima.
A stabilisation gadget called a gimbal, which Anthony had affixed to the little POV cameras, meant he could get dramatic panning shots without camera shake or the need to sit a man on a dolly and track and push him around.
HyperSmooth is its very prosaic name. The sorta footage that gives your pals seasickness? Watch those tremulous frames disappear on screen.
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Next thing: TimeWarp. Squeeze a long part of the trip, the drive, the hike in, whatever, into a compressed vid. Stick your head in front of the hole, make funnies, caress shorebreaks on your softie. And when you gotta do a couple of stills for the promo packaging, press SuperPhoto.
HDR and so forth. Examine, buy here. There has been a real dearth of surf news over the past few days for which I apologize. They will again, I have no doubt, but in the meantime here is a story from my past. My next book is about the Middle East so here…. I think my obsession with the Middle East begins here. I was hanging onto the side of The Great Pyramid of Giza, some feet off the ground, and trying to track the police flashlights below, crisscrossing the desert, looking for the bastards who dared sneak in to the pyramid complex to climb the oldest and biggest 7th wonder of the ancient world.
I used to work the campus safety dispatch night shift at my Christian university and remember how abjectly lazy I was. People who are good at their jobs and try hard and shit work in the day.
- The Scribes For Womens Convents in Late Medieval Germany;
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- Laying Down Our Crown.
The night belongs to fuckers and fuck-ups. I pulled a Cleopatra cigarette out of my pocket and lit it, trying to figure a way out of the mess. A flashlight slashed across the base of the pyramid zigzagging nowhere near me.
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The flashlights zigged closer but still nowhere near me and I began to descend, singing, smoking, while the police started shouting in Arabic. The idea to climb had been hatched a mere four hours earlier. Cheops or Khufu or The Great Pyramid of Giza is the only one worth climbing and likely the only one you know.
It is the pyramid with that weird cap on it. The one that looks like it has a snowy peak. The other two biggish pyramids in the complex belonged to Pharaohs Khafre and Menkaure and impressive but not nearly as impressive as Cheops. It is one of those rare phenomena where reality is more fantastic than the imagined.
Like, the sphinx sucks. It is a tiny little thing. Maybe as big as a Chevy Suburban. It is a GMC Yukon.
Very disappointing and much smaller than dreamed. The passages inside the pyramids are also all super lame bummers. Cramped, hot, stinky and not romantic with no paintings or spooky lights etc. It is immense, almost years old and completely baffling. How did the Egyptians do it? How did they stack giant stones that high? How big are the stones? Was it Hebrew slaves? One can lounge in the desert there and ponder how life felt in those ancient times and how this giant three dimensional triangle was constructed and all manner of small human thoughts and feel the weight of amazement.
It is truly crushing. One of their flashlights grazed my foot and the shouting grews more urgent. Better to ask forgiveness instead of permission etc. We were all now bathed in flashlight, sweeping across our faces, our bodies, our legs and arms. The policemen had gathered at a particular section near the base and our guiding us there.