Every surfer on the East Coast restlessly anticipates hurricane season. September brings a mixed bag of excitement and apprehension, the feeling akin to a blind date. On one hand, you might score. But on the other hand, you could end up with a twisted version of last year's Sandy; sultry at a glance but devastating as all hell in the end. The epitome of a homewrecker. With each Weather Channel update comes both hope and trepidation as seeds of Saharan dust spin off of West Africa and into the open Atlantic.
Since the official start of the 2013 Atlantic season of June 1, seven storms have been named, but none of them have made names for themselves. And as we rip another page off our 2013 calendars heading into September, the tropics look to finally come alive. Last week, Dylan Graves and filmer Dave Malcolm took off from Southern California in Dylan's sprinter van, with an open agenda and no set plans. As in George Lucas’ Star Wars — where the Stormtroopers ruled the Galactic Empire — Dylan and crew will absolutely rule the empire of the Eastern Seaboard for the next month; meeting up with the likes of Slater and CJ Hobgood and importing international stars like Chippa Wilson and Dave Rastovich along the way. And the entire time, they'll be pumping this blog full of life; dropping updates and edits from the road every couple of days.
Without further ado, a few thoughts from Dylan:
We're currently sailing the concrete sea with only one thing in mind: embracing madness and the wide-open road. In other words, we are “YOLOing” our way across the United States of America. Which brings us to the naming of our mothership —my van — the Millennium YOLO. It will be our home for the next month.
So far, she's guided us through 2400 miles of deserts, storms, road beers, white sands, full moons, aliens, Texas, road beers, more Texas, “Let’s pull over in Austin!”, BBQs, Jitterbug Vipers, country music, “Let’s go check out New Orleans!”, Bourbon Street, secret whiskey bars, live music, and finally, the East Coast. Sort of. We've actually arrived just short, in Pensacola, Florida, on the Gulf Coast and home to the most serious surfer on the planet, Sterling Spencer.
Here, Sterling's led us to Hooters, fireball shots, a movie premiere, skinny dipping, skateboarding, spike ball, cider, bowling, surfing in Alabama (seriously), bushwhackers, line-dancing, karaoke and a trillion good vibes. It's been the perfect beginning for a new coast, and we're only just getting started.
Watch the saga unfold at SurfingMagazine.com/stormtroopers