HUCK Magazine The Jack Johnson Issue (Digital Edition)

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SINGER, SURFER, ENVIRONMENTALIST EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW

vol. 02 issue #009 made in the uk £3.75 JACK JOHNSON by SCOTT SOENS

THE SUSTAIN ISSUE



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And if we continue to pollute and consume at the current rate, there’s no carbon offset scheme or green corporate cliché that’s gonna save us­ – especially when we’re drowning in high seas or suffocating in a heat wave of doom. Thankfully some people have realised it’s time to act. Jack Johnson is one of them. He invited HUCK into his solar-powered studio in Los Angeles to show the world how he produced a whole enviro-friendly album full of beautiful, soothing songs. Turn to page 46 for his insightful thoughts on politics, music, the insanity of war, and the fleeting nature of life in the age of ecological crisis. Jack knows it can all go away just like that. Question is: do you?

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contents. huck #009

46 JACK JOHNSON singer, surfer, environmentalist. 54 CARBON TRADE FAD carbon offsetting allows us to think we can carry on polluting. well, we can’t, says george monbiot. 58 O’NEILL EVOLUTION antti autti, gian simmen and co. tell us how they intend to clean up their act. 64 THAYNE MAHLER one-legged legend. 66 BRUCE GOLD jeffrey’s bay’s very own hippie. 70 ANDREW MARR from outta nowhere, he came to charge.

72 CALIFORNIA fifty days and fifty nights up and down the 101. 78 TIPi VALLEY this is not a lifestyle, it’s a life. 86 SURFED OUT? the evolution of uk surfing.

DEBBIE BRAGG

88 ECO WARRIORS these guys are committed. 94 SNOWBOARDING SVALBARD are ice caps really melting? we travel north to find out. 102 ETHICAL FASHION hemp, organic cotton, recycled tyres. 106 THE POWER OF ONE individuality in the age of corporate monoculture.

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Photos © Alex Franklin

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118 ispo art 120 music 122 films 124 dvds 126 games 128 books 130 love

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ed andrews

22 de-trash 26 david rastovich 28 eddie vedder 30 jeremy jones 32 bob burnquist 34 o’neill sea odyssey 36 satori 40 scotland snow 44 penguin vs. polar bear

LUKE ATKINSON

contents. huck #009



VOL. 02 SSUE 009 HUCK MAGAZINE www.huckmagazine.com

Editor

Vince Medeiros Global Editor

Creative Directors

Jamie Brisick

Associate Editor

Rob Longworth & Paul Willoughby

Andrea Kurland

www.thechurchoflondon.com Snow Editor

Skate Editor

Film Editor

Zoe Oksanen

Jay Riggio

Matt Bochenski

Translations Editor

Website Design

Markus Grahlmann

Alex Capes

Marketing & Distribution

Advertising Director

Ed Andrews

Music Editor

Phil Hebblethwaite

Editorial Consultant

Michael Fordham

Steph Pomphrey

Advertising Manager

Dean Faulkner

European Director

Publisher

Claire Marshall

Danny Miller Text

Alf Alderson, Sarah Bentley, Gregor Common, Tim Donnelly, Gemma Freeman, Steven Fröhlich, Michael Kew, Miles Masterson, George Monbiot, Hans Riesch, Jay Riggio, Cyrus Shahrad Images

Alf Alderson, Luke Atkinson, Cole Barash, Debbie Bragg, Keli Bratvold, Chris Burkard, Danny Clinch, Sam Christmas, Adam Clark, Jon Coulthard, Richard Johnson, Josh Kimball, Al Mackinnon, Jan Masny, Jamie Mosberg, Spencer Murphy, Chris Owen, Scott Soens, Mark Taplin, Philip Volkers, Christian Weiermann, Tadashi Yamaoda HUCK is published by HUCK LIMITED Studio 209 Curtain House 134-146 Curtain Road London, EC2A 3AR, United Kingdom Editorial Enquiries +44 (0) 207-729-3675 editorial@huckmagazine.com Advertising and Marketing Enquiries +44 (0) 207-729-3675 ads@huckmagazine.com ON THE COVER: JACK JOHNSON BY SCOTT SOENS

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Distributed worldwide by COMAG UK distribution enquiries: andy.hounslow@comag.co.uk Worldwide distribution enquiries: graeme.king@comag.co.uk Importato da Johnsons International News Italia S.p.A. Distribuito da A&G MARCO Via Fortezza 27, Milano, Italia Printed by Mayhew McCrimmon www.mayhewprepress.co.uk The articles appearing within this publication reflect the opinions of their respective authors and not necessarily those of the publishers or editorial team. The paper used on this magazine is chlorine free and from sustainable sources.


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SPENCER MURPHY

It’s now all too clear that the environment munching march of global capitalism is gonna lead to a shitty and apocalyptic end. And since our weak governments, subservient to the rule of capital, aren’t gonna move a finger to fix things, we might as well take charge and save the planet ourselves. Turn the page for a list of organisations you can join to help do something about it.

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Friends of the Earth www.foe.co.uk

Protect Our Winters www.protectourwinters.org

Alaska Wilderness League www.alaskawild.org

Fundación Pumalín www.pumalinpark.org

Rocky Mountain Recreation Initiative www.rmri.org

American Alpine Club www.americanalpineclub.org

Global Justice Ecology Project www.globaljusticeecology.org

Save the Waves Coalition www.savethewaves.org

Arizona Wilderness Coalition www.azwild.org

Grand Canyon Wildlands Council www.grandcanyonwildlands.org

Sierra Club Foundation www.sierraclub.org

Biodiversity Conservation Alliance www.voiceforthewild.org

Great Plains Restoration Council www.gprc.org

Stop Climate Chaos www.stopclimatechaos.org

Bob Burnquist Foundation www.bobburnquistfoundation.org

Greenpeace www.greenpeace.org

Stop Global Warming www.stopglobalwarming.org

Butte Environmental Council www.becnet.org

Habitat Works of Southern California www.habitatwork.org

Surfers Against Sewage www.sas.org.uk

California Wild Heritage Campaign www.californiawild.org

Independence Pass Foundation www.independencepass.org

Surfers For Cetaceans www.surfersforcetaceans.com

California Wilderness Coalition www.calwild.org

Instytut Spraw Obywatelskich www.iso.edu.pl

The Surfrider Foundation www.surfrider.org

Campaign Against Climate Change www.campaigncc.org

International Center for Birds of Prey www.internationalbirdsofprey.org

Town Hall Coalition www.townhallcoalition.org

Center for Biological Diversity www.biologicaldiversity.org

Irish Peatland Conservation Council www.ipcc.ie

Trustees for Alaska www.trustees.org

Center for Native Ecosystems www.nativeecosystems.org

Jackson Hole Conservation Alliance www.jhalliance.org

Western Colorado Congress www.wccongress.org

Center for Snow & Avalanche Studies www.snowstudies.org

Klamath Forest Alliance www.klamathforestalliance.org

Central Sierra Environmental Resource Center www.cserc.org

Mountain Wilderness International www.mountainwilderness.org

Western Environmental Law Center www.westernlaw.org . Wild Utah Project www.wildutahproject.org

Climate Outreach Information Network www.coinet.org.uk

Mountains to Sound Greenway Trust www.mtsgreenway.org

Wildcoast www.wildcoast.net

Cold Mountain, Cold Rivers www.wildrockies.org/cmcr/

Oregon Natural Desert Association www.onda.org

Wilderness Watch www.wildernesswatch.org

Conservation Northwest www.conservationnw.org

People and Planet www.peopleandplanet.org

Wildlands Project www.twp.org

CORA – Centre Ornithologique Rhône-Alpes www.cora-asso.com

Prairie Dog Coalition www.prairiedogcoalition.org

Wildsight www.wildsight.ca

Dogwood Alliance www.dogwoodalliance.org

Predator Conservation Alliance www.predatorconservation.org

Wildwest Institute www.wildwestinstitute.org

Endangered Species Coalition www.stopextinction.org

Pro Mont Blanc www.pro-mont-blanc.org

World Wildlife Federation www.wwf.org

Environmental Defense www.environmentaldefense.org

Pro Peninsula www.propeninsula.org

Wyoming Wilderness Association www.wildwyo.org

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SPENCER MURPHY

Alaska Conservation Foundation www.akcf.org



green leaders: david rastovich text Steven FrÖHlich photography Josh Kimball

It’s pretty much known in the surfing world that Dave Rastovich was saved from a shark attack by a dolphin that pushed the approaching shark away. That happened three years ago, just two days after he decided to co-found Surfers for Cetaceans. Coincidence, fate or what? “Sometimes it feels there’s a greater force at work. It was an amazing timing for me. For that to happen just a few days after deciding to give something back to the ocean has been an amazing synchronicity. Also because of that I really feel this is my path.” Since then, Rasta has been all over the world exposing the cruelties perpetrated against sea creatures, at times risking injury or arrest. “The great thing about surfers and especially professional surfers is that time after time they risk their life for just a good wave,” he says. “This experience comes in handy at moments

“The moments where I feel my cause is difficult are brief. They pass by like a shitty wave in the surf.”

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when you have to keep your cool. In October we were in Japan documenting and filming fishermen that were killing pilot whales. Some of the whales had already been killed and the others were swimming around in the blood of their family. We were confronted with very angry and violent fishermen that even started to hit our people with long boot hooks.” Rastovich tells me he has just been to Hawaii where he went for a swim near a reef when a group of spinner dolphins came to him. “They were within three feet and acted relaxed and peaceful,” he says. “It’s amazing to be near wild animals that actually have the ability to hurt you but choose not to. That gives me another layer of respect and compassion. Sometimes I feel sad when I’m around people that have had similar experiences but do not feel motivated to help or give back to the ocean in some form.” Does that mean Rasta feels alone in a crowd? “Sometimes yeah. But the moments where I feel it’s overwhelming and difficult are very brief. They pass by like a shitty wave in the surf. You just let that one go as there’re more waves to come.” www.surfersforcetaceans.com


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green leaders: eddie vedder text Tim Donnelly photography Danny Clinch

“It’s strange to be recognised for doing environmental work,” confessed Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder last summer upon receiving the Surf Industry Manufacturers Association’s ‘Environmentalist of the Year’ award from the hands of his childhood hero, former surfing world champ Mark Richards. “It’s like getting an award for breathing – it’s just simply something you have to do to stay alive.” Pearl Jam have always put their money and time where their mouths are. Last winter, they raised money for Oahu’s North Shore Community Land Trust’s campaign to save Pupukea. And in the summer of ’06, they raised another $30,000 from their Los Angeles concerts for the Surfrider Foundation’s campaign to ‘Save Trestles’. But this is no recent trend for the band. Pearl Jam’s first major donation was to the Surfrider Foundation for 50,000 bucks back in 1995. That money essentially saved the NGO from extinction. They then gave two songs to Surfrider’s ‘Music for Our Mother Ocean’ series of

Pearl Jam to tour on nought emissions.

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compilation CDs. Quite simply, Pearl Jam have always had our back. The band’s concern is not limited to ocean-faring people, though. Their very own ‘Carbon Portfolio Strategy’ will see $100,000 go to nine environmental groups doing innovative work around climate change and the fight for cleaner energy sources. So what’s the ultimate goal? To achieve zero per cent net emissions for their tours – and generally help out the good guys. Guitarist Stone Gossard is the keeper of Pearl Jam’s enviro-business legacy. While his eyes are firmly focused on the future, they are also entrenched in reality. “It’s incredible how far stuff has to travel to manufacture it. Stuff is flying all over the globe. My intuition tells me that the more stuff you can do closer to your home, the more stuff you can do,” he tells me. “Using people who work and manufacture locally is the way to go. But when you are doing it on a large scale that can be contradictory too, so you have to try and find a balance.” With Vedder and co. leading the charge, it seems there’s a chance this delicate balance can be achieved. www.pearljam.com


Photos: Arab | www.skullcandy.eu


green leaders: jeremy jones text ZOE OKSANEN photography ADAM CLARK

Winters are getting shorter, snow pack thinner and when you see people mountain biking instead of cliff dropping in Lake Tahoe in February, you know things just ain’t right. Thankfully, big-mountain rider Jeremy Jones knows we have a problem and has decided to take action. “The first time I saw legitimate change was in Prince Rupert, Canada,” says Jeremy. “It was the middle of winter and I hiked what used to be the local ski hill. I was with a thirty-year-old local who grew up skiing the resort as a kid. The place would be open on average sixty days a year, but now they have so little snow that years go by without enough snow to ride it.”  Having spent the last two decades forcing us to hold our breath as we watch him descend some of the world’s most intimidating peaks, Jeremy is acutely aware of climate change as it affects his daily life and work. His main concern these days is the impact that we, the snowboarders and skiers who constantly lament the lack of snow, are having on the entire process. Intent on doing something about it, he set up the non-profit ‘Protect Our Winters’, or ‘POW’, to help educate snow aficionados

He wants you to take action right now.

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about ways to reduce their carbon footprint. “I have seen how effective surfers have been in protecting the ocean,” he says. “I felt the winter sports world needed an organisation of our own that we could rally around and take action to slow down global warming and protect the mountains we love.” Jeremy is also casting an eye on the ski and snowboard industry. And although “it is not happening overnight”, change is creeping in. Rossignol, for example, are making boots with recycled soles and hemp fabrics, and many resorts now offer visitors the option of offsetting their carbon emissions by purchasing a SkiGreen Tag, a voluntary contribution alongside lift tickets. But in the end it is the common man who really leads the revolution, and Jeremy is reaching out to each of us through his website, magazine articles, DVD inserts and ad campaigns. His media assault gets people together, provides a launch pad for networks to develop and helps break down the small but crucial steps we need to take to help revert climate change. Whether it is by carpooling to the mountain, ditching your car for your bike when picking up the groceries or simply switching to fluorescent light bulbs, Jeremy is making sure that we have no excuses left to keep screwing up the planet. www.protectourwinters.org


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green leaders: bob burnquist text Zoe Oksanen photography Jamie Mosberg

Bob Burnquist has long been a man on a mission. He’s a thirteen-time X Games medalist and the only pro insane enough to have skated off a ramp into the Grand Canyon. This would be enough accomplishment to last a lifetime for most people, but thirty-three-year-old Bob is now on an even greater mission – and this one involves saving the planet. Hailing from Brazil, Bob’s original source of inspiration comes from the Amazon Rainforest Greenpeace event in 2001: “It was a big music festival and they also built a vert ramp with Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) certified wood: the very first sustainable skateboarding contest right in the middle of the Amazon rainforest. It was amazing.” Shortly afterwards, he helped found the Action Sports Environmental Coalition, an organisation that influences all kinds of decision-makers, from the kid in the local skate park to the organisers of the X Games. After seeing what was possible at the Amazon event, Bob figured there was no reason the X Games couldn’t step up to the environmental call. “Through phone calls and our connections at FSC and Greenpeace we were able to call ESPN and make it a reality,” says Bob. “They didn’t just stop with the FSC ramps, they have also turned their entire interaction zone into a recycling-friendly area.” And then there’s the kids. The Burnquist Foundation is encouraging schools to develop their own organic gardening and farming. “Children are receptive and inquisitive and when you challenge them they tend to respond,” he says. “The drive behind the programme is the challenge, from all the little everyday things to the grand goals in life. All the tricks I’ve learned, I had to really want it to get it done. And if I can do those things, then we can challenge ourselves to do something for the environment. And that’s the message: a challenge to action.” So, with the greening of the X Games, kids going organic, a family, his band Escalera (with fellow skater Danny Way amongst others) and, oh yeah, a professional skate career, the question that springs to mind is this: how the hell does Bob get time to do all of this and still have a life? “All of that is Bob time,” he tells me earnestly. “Everything takes time and the only way to get things done is to do it. It can be overwhelming, but the key is to take it one day at a time and just set goals. Multitask without overdriving.” Which is clearly just as well, seeing as Brazil’s biggest skateboard export is showing no glimmer of slowing down this side of forty.

Children: Uncle Bob has a message for you so listen up.

www.bobburnquistfoundation.org

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text ANDREA KURLAND

As a kid, my thing was always the rainforest. Images of a chargrilled Amazon disappearing in a flaming mass of manmade chaos haunted my ten-year-old mind. That was the year I woke up to mankind’s suicidal tendencies – and it was all thanks to a kooky teacher with dreamcatchers in her ears. For the 42,000 kids that have taken part in the O’Neill Sea Odyssey, it’s the fate of the ocean that plays on their mind – and a man with an eyepatch who initiated the awakening. “The ocean is in peril,” says Jack O’Neill, the legendary waterman behind surfing’s mega brand. “That’s why we started the O’Neill Sea Odyssey. Over fifty per cent of our oxygen comes from the ocean and it’s very important that we take care of it.” Realising the future of our planet truly rests on younger shoulders, Jack decided to set up the educational field trip as a way of engaging youth with the ocean and its plight. Since 1996, kids from all walks of life

Jack O’Neill: pioneer, part-time pirate, inspiration to the world’s youth.

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have been treated to a day of hands-on education aboard a 65ft catamaran off the Californian coast. The fee? A character-building stint on the beach clearing up litter. “We teach the kids to be environmental stewards, all on a classroom that floats on the ocean,” says Dan Haifley, executive director. “We want them to think critically about decisions they make in their daily lives.” So what’s the fallout of this buoyant education? Dan’s done the maths: “Parents tell us that after our programme their kids tell them to be careful of what they put into storm drains, not to litter, drive less, and turn off the lights when they are not used. If each of the 42,000 youth who have taken our programme talk to five people, including their families, that’s 250,000 people our programme has had an impact on.” And with hopes of one day bringing the Sea Odyssey to Europe, collective benefit can only rise. “People only protect what they understand, and they only understand what they know,” adds Dan. “This programme is the key to knowing what the ocean is, what the environment is, what the climate is. And if we understand it, we can protect it.” I’m guessing my geography teacher felt the same way. www.oneillseaodyssey.org


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movement text Jay riggio photography taDaSHi yamaoDa

over the years, those in power have done their best to stifle original thought and independent action. luckily though, there are some that not only refuse to align, but also use their defiance to make a difference. following the nonconformist lead of what defined skateboarding to him, twenty-nine-year-old craig nejedly wanted to pursue something that was creative but also important. In late 1998, craig formed satori, which began solely as a wheel company. “we started with wheels because we were poor and wheels were about the cheapest thing you can make and still put together a good team,” explains craig. over time, satori slowly began exploring the realm of soft goods, and soon started experimenting with environmentally friendly gear, most notably a strong apparel line made out of hemp. “It is just one of the most natural and durable fibres that needs no chemicals to process,” says craig about the plant that gave the world weed and its derivatives.

satorI InvItes you to take a hard look at yourself and start wearIng hemp. lIke, now.

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as business grew and reached even a non-skate market, satori added bamboo and organic cotton to their growing hemp collections. according to craig, the main benefit of sustainable materials is an overall healthy environment, as conventional cotton production causes chemical runoffs that pollute waterways and our air supply: “anything is possible and the future as it is looks bleak, so hopefully people will rise to the occasion and create change. that’s what we hope to achieve: awareness to create sustainable change.” while satori still exists as a skate wheel venture, craig now calls his eco-friendly men’s line ‘satori movement’, while his women’s line has been dubbed ‘satori divine movement’. should we read something into the names? “It’s really simple if you step back and look at it all,” explains nejedly. “all life is created to coexist and only humans build fences, create chemicals to kill unwanted animals and build bombs to kill unwanted humans. every step towards awareness of the greater consciousness makes a difference.” you heard the man – now go get some hemp clothes. www.satorimovement.com


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text and photography Ed Andrews

“Are you going or coming back?” asks the baggage attendant as I check in my snowboard on a flight to Inverness. “Going,” I reply. She looks puzzled, “Can you actually go snowboarding in Scotland?” I can’t really blame her. Set in a secluded corner of North West Scotland, battered by Arctic winds and North Sea precipitation, the town of Aviemore and the nearby mountain of Cairn Gorm don’t seem to be the obvious choice for your average snowboarder. Why go to Scotland when there are bigger and better places all over Europe? Why indeed. “You have to come here with an open mind,” says my guide Nick, who having repatriated from Brighton, England, at the age of ten, is still not quite considered a local in this tight community. “You can’t just come wanting only to snowboard. If the weather is bad, be prepared to do something else. There’s plenty to do.” Today the weather has been kind. The clouds are high, the wind is

HUCK goes snowboarding in the Cairngorms.

holding at a light breeze and it’s been dumping for the last few days. Elated locals greet each other chuckling: “It’s almost like a proper resort. Almost!” But their self-deprecation doesn’t detract from the real love they have for this small mountain, which rises only 1,245 metres above sea level. I meet a liftie called Bruce who has been working here on and off for thirtyseven years and is adamant that he wouldn’t want to ski anywhere else. Pro snowboarder and Aviemore local Lesley McKenna often raves about the place: “I have had some of the best days of riding in my life at home in Scotland. If you get some good snow and nice weather, it is as good as anywhere in the world, if not better.” So where does this glowing pride come from? The mountains are rugged and patchy. Rocks, small pines and clumps of heather poke out through the snow while the rickety wooden fences try to save it from being swept off into the North Sea by the blustery winds. Apart from the newly built funicular railway, all lifts are tows in various states of disrepair. We take the jerky Poma lift to the top of the Ptarmigan bowl and tackle the ‘White Lady’. The piste is narrow and littered with wind lips and ice. But after shooting underneath the funicular, it opens out into a good kilometre of untracked powder. The snow is thick and slightly sticky – champagne it ▼

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is not – but floating through, a realisation takes hold: I’m in Scotland and I’m riding 20cm deep powder. This is fucking awesome! Other runs form similar tight corridors between more wooden fences and boulders, but they’re well groomed and offer huge jibbing potential. Taking the tows back up to Ptarmigan, we strap on some snow shoes and hike to the summit of Cairn Gorm as the wind picks up. After taking in the view, we duck down the sheltered south side of the mountain and into some spectacular backcountry. The timing is perfect as the sun breaks through the clouds and drenches the wide bowl in glorious sunshine. As I carve S’s through the powder, ollie off ridges and spots of protruding greenery, any doubts I had over snowboarding in Scotland are gone. Despite offering some amazing scenery and awesome riding, years of underinvestment and dwindling numbers of visitors have seen the resort scrape by from season to season. I meet with a number of Cairn Gorm stalwarts to discuss this at The Winking Owl pub in Aviemore. Some have grown up in town while others have continually forsaken seasons abroad to stick it out at Cairn Gorm. Their dedication to the mountain is undeniable, but it seems to be tainted by a frustration that it’s not achieving its full potential. Volatile snowfall, backwards-looking authorities and tough restrictions on development (due to the Cairngorms being a unique subarctic ecosystem with various endangered flora and fauna that are protected by EU Law) have

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made the place fall below the expectations of today’s discriminating packageholiday tourists. But would it be the same place without these limitations? Cairn Gorm may not be a towering snow-sure mountain, and the weather can be fucking awful, but that’s not the be all and end all. Snowboarding is more than just getting the deepest powder and hitting the sickest lines in the park. For me at least, it’s appreciating the natural beauty of the mountains, the unique character of a place and experiencing something out of the ordinary. As I drive back down the road towards Aviemore, the late afternoon sunshine lights up the pine forests and heathland in the Glenmore Valley and sparkles magically off Loch Morlich. It is clear that the Cairngorms offer all these qualities in abundance whilst not being afflicted by the cheap Disney-fication of so many mountain resorts as they chase record numbers of tourists. In a belated answer to the baggage attendant’s question, “Fuck yeah, you can!”

.

Thanks to G2 Outdoor Mountain Guides (www.g2outdoor.co.uk), Cairn Gorm Mountain Ltd, VisitScotland.com, Hilton Coylumbridge and easyJet. easyJet flies to Inverness from Bristol, London Gatwick, London Luton, with prices from £17.99 one-way and return from £27.98.



text Ed Andrews photography Philip Volkers

It is claimed that a polar bear has never eaten a penguin. Existing as they do on opposite ends of the earth and separated by a giant scorching equator, such a scenario ever occurring seems to be highly unlikely. However, it was once claimed that smoking never gave anyone cancer and it is still claimed, by some, that human activity has made no contribution to climate change whatsoever. Whether or not a polar bear will ever snack on a penguin remains to be seen, but as icecaps melt and sea levels rise, snowlines retreat and forests

The two polar species square up in the desert.

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die, such perceived certainties may well have to be re-evaluated. Penguins, like many of the more fortunate human beings on this planet, have the option to migrate when their surroundings get too harsh to bear. They can move on to more temperate waters where the fish are still plentiful and their nests will be safe from predators. Others, like our stricken polar bear, have no such luxury. They will only be able to watch as their habitat disappears around them and try to survive, if they can. Although many of us may consider ourselves to be like the penguins, using our wealth and privilege to buy ourselves out of trouble, we all essentially share in the polar bear’s predicament. Think about it: we only have one planet. Apart from that, we have nowhere else to go.


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Jack Johnson’s latest record, Sleep Through The Static, is more powerful and thought provoking than his entire back catalogue put together. At its core, two themes stand out: war and the environment. HUCK pays a visit to Jack’s solarpowered Casa Verde, in Los Angeles, to speak about his new album,climate change, politics, family and the beauty of doing things your own way.

Text Tim Donnelly Photography Scott Soens

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On a classic Southern California Main Street, across from a mini mall that boasts a podiatrist and a one-hour dry cleaners, sits a non-descript green house. In front of the humble abode are hybrid vehicles of all kinds, a couple of beach cruisers and a long skateboard. There are no gates or massive locks keeping the outside out or the inside in. It looks and feels like any house in the area – not the home of a record label or workshop of an artist who has sold upwards of fourteen million records.

The smell of fresh coffee wafts through the parlour area, drawing me in and out of the cold dampness of the morning. “Grab a cup,” says one of the record label employees. “Jack is upstairs, go on up when you’re ready.” I take a swig that warms my body and head upstairs, trying not to spill coffee on the wooden steps. When I reach the top, it’s no surprise to see Jack Johnson stretched out like a cat next to a bright window, absorbing whatever light he can. He’s alone in the room, playing along to ‘Tick, Tick, Tick, Boom’ by The Hives on his acoustic. We greet each other like friends do but right away I’m confused as to why he’s playing The Hives. Jack explains: “I’m going to London to perform on BBC Radio. They have people come on and do cover tunes that are on their playlist so I picked this one. It kinda fits, doesn’t it?” Armed with lyrics, Johnson gets to the chorus and starts to play with it. He begins to improv John Lee Hooker’s blues classic, ‘Boom, Boom, Boom’ into the neo-punk of The Hives. “Tick, tick, tick, ahh, a boom, boom, boom,” he sings while looking at his fingers during the minor chord change. It’s the ‘boom’ bit that reminds me how I watched the beginning of the Iraq War with him as we chatted long distance: me watching in New Jersey and Jack seeing it from Hawaii. “The war began on March 19, 2003,” I tell him. “That’s crazy, isn’t it?” replies Jack. “They had us believe it was gonna be as quick as the first war. They told us a lot of things,” he adds with a smirk. His fifth release, Sleep Through The Static, shows a different and needed-to-be-revealed side of Jack Johnson. Yeah, he’s still a mellow surfer, a naturally shy and private guy who makes sweet, soothing sounds. But at thirty-two he’s also a smart and educated man who is dumbfounded as to what has actually transpired in America over the last few years. Right from the jump of the title track, Johnson tackles the taboo: religion and politics. But it’s not agitprop. It’s more like the way a beautiful woman with a foreign accent sounds when she’s telling you to go fuck yourself. No matter what she says, it sounds like beauty. “It’s fun to let people read into it,” Jack says about the title he chose for the album. “Sleep Through The Static comes from this one line in the song that says, ‘And so/ I will cook

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“this war has been going on five years now and it keeps going. you do get used to it. it’s like static, like white noise. you don’t have to feel it. because you can watch it and fall asleep by turning off the remote anytime you feel like it.”

all your books/ you’re too good looking and mistook it/ you could watch it instead from the comfort of your burning bed/ Or you can sleep through the static.’ “The other day I saw this car with a ‘Support Our Troops’ bumper sticker, and next to it was one about Jesus,” Johnson says while rubbing his hands. “I thought to myself, ‘What would Jesus think about a sticker with his name on it right next to one that says, ’Support Our Troops’?’ There’s nothing wrong with supporting our troops, by the way, but when it becomes synonymous with supporting this war,” he says before changing his thought. “It would be interesting if Jesus could tell us what he really thinks.” Spirituality oozes from Johnson, and yet we’ve never even spoken about religion. I get the same sense from him that I get from Rastafarians and Native Americans, that same air of being a child of the earth. I have a gut feeling he doesn’t subscribe to the conventional Christian dogma that has purveyed its way into American politics. Maybe it’s because he lives in a bucolic setting and that he, himself, seems to blend in, that Johnson draws a parallel between camouflage and a higher power. “The line about God wearing camouflage you can read as God is in everything. The idea of camouflage, he’s blending in, he’s always all around. It’s a little biting, ‘God wears camouflage and drives a Dodge’, but at the same time, you really can’t argue against any of the stuff. None of it is untrue if you believe in any form of God, whether you want to call it nature or the guy with the grey beard.” People are finally speaking that honestly in America since September 11, 2001. This has led Johnson’s more conservative fans to question his speaking out against the Iraq War. “When we decided to do ‘Vote for Change’ in 2004 [a tour that Johnson took part in that encouraged people to vote], there were a lot of conversations on our website about it. Some people were upset about us doing it, saying that they didn’t like it when musicians talked about politics. It seems so funny to me. Then don’t listen to it. When you write songs it’s not a democratic process, it’s not a group effort. At some point they tried to put up a petition on whether I should play those shows. If enough of the fans decided that I shouldn’t play those shows, then I shouldn’t play it? What’s that? That’s not gonna change anything.”

He fidgets a bit then re-focuses his thoughts on the war that’s still raging: “This war has been going on five years now and it keeps going. You do get used to it. It’s like static, like white noise at this point. You don’t have to feel it. Because you can watch it and fall asleep by turning off the remote anytime you feel like it. At the push of a button – you can turn the whole thing off.”

We’re standing

on the roof of his freshly ‘greened’ recording studio. Despite the wet surface, Jack is as surefooted as ever. The one thing he knows about is balance. Balance in the water. Balance on stage. And he’s now finding the balance between being a successful musician and caring for the environment. “Is the sun coming out today?” he asks looking into the solar panels that line the roof. “I hope so for your sake,” I laugh as we head out of the rain and back inside Johnson’s ‘Casa Verde’, or ‘Green House’. He recorded Sleep Through The Static in his new solarpowered recording studio. He did it like they used to do it: recording to analog tape using vintage equipment. Even the wood inside is recycled. “The studio runs off of solar power. The wood we used was all reclaimed lumber. It feels better. It feels nice every time you look at that [points at the recycled wall] to think about my Australian friend Luke coming in here and stripping the wood, then building it, doing so many things that are low impact.” It’s clear that Jack’s ‘green’ studio is anything but a marketing trick to sell records. Johnson does it because it’s the right thing to do. “We make music because there are things to talk about in life. There are songs you want to write, so we get here and forget that it’s solar powered because it is running so normal,” he laughs as he’s leaving the control room. “But it feels good to be able to tell people that you can do something different, even if it’s not the environmental stuff. It’s just showing people that you can go off and do your own thing, to inspire, to motivate and to make change.” Change doesn’t come cheap, and Johnson has heard a lot of excuses from others who have been resistant to it. Excuses are like elbows and assholes: people usually have at least three of them and Johnson’s heard them all. “They say right away, ‘I’ve heard about that solar-powered stuff ▼

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“the studio runs off of solar power. the wood we used was all reclaimed lumber. it feels better. it feels nice doing so many things that are low impact.”

but it’s too expensive.’ Thing is, it’s not, especially if you have the money to make the investment,” he says standing in the backyard pointing at the roof. “After a certain amount of years, those things will pay themselves off and you’ll be actually saving money. A lot of it is about what you want to spend your money on. There’s a lot of stuff we don’t need and you put those things you don’t need aside,” he says then asks, “Imagine taking all the money from war and using it to build schools and educational facilities. What would that have done?”

Johnson’s giving me the grand tour of Casa Verde

now. We’re standing in the driveway on the side of the house, and he’s showing me the energy meter that counts how much power is being used. It’s quite a set-up and though it may surprise some, this extreme home makeover had to be approved by the state of California. That means it’s got social responsibilities all of its own: if Johnson’s home is drawing too much power to have any left over, the excess goes back to the people of California. It’s pretty easy to say and do the right things in your home, but what happens when you leave town? How about being Jack Johnson, trailblazing across the globe to play music only to pack up and do it again and again for months at a time? Does he suffer from ‘green guilt’? “The plane flights take a pretty big tax on the environment,” Jack admits. “To get to these places to surf or to play, it’s a reality that you are making an impact – even when you make the effort to use bio-diesel on your buses, recycle and that kind of stuff. But there’s still the impact of flying. We’ve tried to offset the energy using the vegetable oil from catering and exploring other sources of fuel. The next tour is pretty exciting. All biodiesel trucks, all the merchandise will be recycled or organic cotton – stuff that hopefully will be more and more standard.” Johnson also cares about having fans that believe in change and who want to get involved in some way. “The main thing is to help activate the public, make them stewards of their area and make people aware of the groups in their own towns. This year we want to talk about three things: we are going to have ‘Vote The Environment’ on the tour and make people aware that their vote really counts. It’s about policy change so you have to vote the right people into office and you have to vote with your dollar. ‘Climate Counts’ will be there too. It’s a website where you can check out the public ▼

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“to me a lot of the record is letting things go. seeing my kids get to the point where i have to let them become little guys. i already see it. there are times we’ll take a walk down on the beach and they’ll wander off ahead of me and start taking little pieces of coral and driftwood and i’ll want to hover over them and explain things. sometimes i’ll sit back and just watch them go.”

traded companies and how they score environmentally, so people can be aware of how they spend their money. The third is to activate people, to use the show to be active in their community.”

We are sitting

in the recording studio control room away from the hyperactivity of the house, which is getting ready for a listening party. The scrambling of employees doesn’t concern Jack – he’s comfortable in his own home. With all of the work he’s doing and the music he’s creating (including a valiant turn on Bob Dylan’s ‘Mama You’ve Been On My Mind’ for the Dylan biopic, I’m Not There), it’s a wonder that he doesn’t get caught up in it all. Lately he’s wondering the same thing: “For me, I don’t get enough sleep, so after the family has gone to bed I’ll read the New York Times online and it’s that feeling which is exactly the first line of the first song (‘All At Once’) on the record: ‘All at once the world can overwhelm me’. “You get this feeling there’s no coming out of it. It‘s a microcosm of the whole record. It starts out a little down, then it lifts you up a little bit and gets you to a place where there is some hope and there is some love. Then I make the statement, ‘The heart is no place to be singing from at all’, when in the end the heart is a physical thing that will be gone. The beating heart of people you love is going to be gone, but the memories stay and I have to realise that we are all connected together and we are brought together by gravity here. But sometimes, a heart feels like it’s too small of a place to be singing from. It feels like it’s too passing,” he explains before revving up again, further breaking down the song. “There’s another line: ‘I’ll reach to you from a place where time just can’t go’. Time will never manage that place where I am singing from. After I’m gone those feelings will still be there because it will live on in children and friends. I’ve been thinking a lot about memories being spirits, somebody who leaves a lot of good memories and goes to another world and has a strong spirit.” Johnson’s been able to do what great writers do: write about what they know, what they are versed in. He is immersed in his surroundings: the ocean, nature and humanity. But he also knows when it is time to give proper respect to those who helped make him who he is. On the song, ‘They Do, They Don’t’, Johnson recognises one of his greatest influences, author and mythologist Joseph Campbell. “Campbell talks about the expansion of the idea of being present and being in the moment. He talks about the dangers

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of having your mind in the good ol’ days or referring to things that used to be better. He calls it ‘archaism’. The same goes for thinking that there is some grand solution. It was nice to use those things, what Campbell calls ‘archaism and futurism’, in a song,” reveals Johnson, before singing the line to me. “Archaism is a dusty road leading us back to nowhere and with all this do’s and don’ts the future’s an empty promise unconcerned and so tired of waiting.” “If I was to count how many times you mention the subject of ‘time’ in your songs, it would be like, fifty,” I say in reply, and in jest, to my serenade by Johnson. “I always write about time. If I could count the number of times I’ve used that word in my songs it would probably blow my mind,” he laughs. “There are different ways of looking at time. On ‘If I Had Eyes’, there’s a line that goes, ‘Time doesn’t heal, no not at all, it just stands still’, and on ‘Go On’ it’s about a moment that keeps on moving. The reality of life is that sometimes it feels like it is standing still and other times if feels like it’s not waiting for you, it’s too far ahead.” It brings him back to a time when life was simpler, when his father, Jeff, would take him on camping trips. “My dad would take me on the outrigger and sail to one of the outer islands and go camping and catch fish. The boat is so narrow that you have to sit in this little space right in front. If you wanted more foot space you bring less things and pack light. Those were my happiest times. To have a fire and cook the fish we caught that day going on a hike and improvising and being away from material objects. That was happiness.” Now Johnson is in a position to pass on the love and tradition to his children and he feels it when he sees his kids running off ahead of him at the beach. “To me a lot of the record is letting things go. Seeing my kids get to the point where I have to let them become little guys. I already see it. There are times we’ll take a walk down on the beach and they’ll wander off ahead of me and start taking little pieces of coral and driftwood and I’ll want to hover over them and explain things. Sometimes I’ll sit back and just watch them go, they’ll go a good fifty yards up the beach and I love it,” he laughs.

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“But I’m gonna have to let them go, so they can do their own thing.” Just like their dad Jack did

Sleep Through The Static is out now.



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IS CARBON OFFSETTING A SCAM? In his best-selling book HEAT, George Monbiot rolls out a comprehensive package of hard but necessary solutions to revert the environmental disaster to come. Carbon offsetting alone, however, is simply not gonna do it. Monbiot explains why.

text George Monbiot illustration MARK TAPLIN

In his book The Rise of the Dutch Republic, published in 1855, John Lothrop Motley describes the means by which the people of the Netherlands in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries could redeem their sins. The sale of absolutions was the source of large fortunes to the priests… God’s pardon for crimes already committed, or about to be committed, was advertised according to a graduated tariff. Thus, poisoning, for example, was absolved for eleven ducats, six livres tournois. Absolution for incest was offered at thirty-six livres, three ducats. Perjury came to seven livres and three carlines. Pardon for murder, if not by poison, was cheaper. Even a parricide could buy forgiveness at God’s tribunal at one ducat, four livres, eight carlines. Today you can find the tariffs for crimes about to be committed on noticeboards erected throughout cyberspace. ‘Carbon offset’ companies promise to redeem the

environmental cost of your carbon emissions by means of intercession with the atmosphere: planting trees, funding renewable energy projects in distant nations and doubtless, somewhere, helping Andean villagers to build bridges. Just as in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries you could sleep with your sister, kill and lie without fear of eternal damnation, today you can leave your windows open while the heating is on, drive and fly without endangering the climate, as long as you give your ducats to one of the companies selling indulgences. There is even a provision of the Kyoto protocol permitting nations to increase their official production of pollutants by paying for carboncutting projects in other countries. I will not attempt to catalogue the land seizures, double counting and downright fraud that has attended some of these schemes. This has been done elsewhere. My objections are more general. The first is that accurate accountancy for ▼

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many carbon-offset projects, however honest the attempt, is simply impossible. You can determine, for example, that a flight to New York results in the production of a certain weight of carbon emissions, and you can work out how much carbon a particular tree of a particular species and particular size contains. You can then divide the tonnage of carbon from your flight by the tonnage of carbon contained in one tree, and work out how many you would need to plant in order to recoup your emissions. The result will bear no relation to reality. Planting trees, for example, means not planting – or leaving – something else on the same land. You have no means of knowing what, in twenty years’ time, might have stood in their place. If the answer is other trees, then to determine the real carbon uptake caused by your actions, you would have to subtract the carbon that might have been from the carbon that is. As you have no means of determining the value of the first figure, you have no means of completing the sum. Planting trees in one place might kill trees elsewhere, as they could dry up a river that might have been feeding a forest downstream. By taking up land which might have otherwise been used to grow crops, it could drive locals to fell forests elsewhere in order to feed themselves. Your trees might die before they reach maturity,

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especially as their growing conditions change with global warming. Timber poachers could fell them; a forest fire could fry them. In other words, in flying to New York we can be sure that carbon dioxide has been released. In paying to plant trees, we cannot be sure that it will be absorbed. More importantly, a tonne of carbon saved today is far more valuable, in terms of preventing climate change, than a tonne of carbon saved in twenty years’ time. But, as if to show how little they care about real impacts, none of the offset companies I have come across uses discount rates for its carbon savings (which would reflect the difference in value between the present and the future). I think it is fair, therefore, to accuse them all of systematic false accounting, even if it is not intentional. The UK’s forestry commission notes that The rate of carbon accumulation is relatively low during the (trees’) establishment phase (and may even be negative as a result of carbon loss from vegetation and soil associated with ground preparation). This is followed by the full vigour phase, a period of relatively rapid uptake, which levels off as the stand reaches the mature phase, and then falls. Trees can take sixty years or more to reach maturity. Even the projects which promise to retrieve our carbon emissions by giving people in

poorer nations better stoves or energy-efficient lightbulbs take time to work, as they rely on the difference over the years between the carbon which would have been generated by using the old models and the carbon the new ones produce. At best, these schemes merely delay the point at which emissions are saved. At worst, they allow us to believe that we can carry on polluting, just as, before the Reformation, the sale of absolutions encouraged people to believe that they could carry on sinning. I cannot think of a more effective means of postponing the hard choices we need to make now. But my main objection is this: that in order to deliver a carbon cut of the size I have discussed, everyone will have to limit their emissions, either today or, in the poorer nations, in the future. There is no choice to be made about whether to abstain from flying or to help poorer people to buy better lightbulbs. We must abstain from flying and help poorer people buy better lightbulbs. Buying and selling carbon offsets is like pushing food around on your plate to give the impression that you have eaten it

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Extracted from HEAT: How We Can Stop the Planet Burning by George Monbiot, published by Penguin priced £8.99. www.monbiot.com



HUCK storms the O’Neill Evolution in Davos to find out what the high and mighty of snowboarding plan on doing to save the planet. text steven frÖHlich

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photography COURTESY OF O’NEILL


name MARKUS KELLER age 25 hometown CHUR, SWITZERLAND sponsors NITRO, SIGSAGSUG, KUU, RED BULL, EASTPAK, VANS, DRAGON, PRO-TEC, GRENADE, AUDI, RAIDEN, VOLCOM

“Since you’re probably polluting way more than the average person, as a professional snowboarder you have to think and live even greener than other people. A perfect example of how to live is Reto Kestenholz. He’s a professional Swiss rider who is vegetarian, doesn’t own a car and hikes up to every peak. He could travel around the globe, heliboard and sled in the backcountry of North America and become more famous and earn more money. Instead, he chooses to hike around in his home mountains and live a low-impact life.”

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name GIGI RUF age 26 hometown AU, AUSTRIA sponsors BURTON, DRAGON, VOLCOM, NIXON, DVS

“I try to plan trips that are as efficient as possible so that I won’t be pinballing from one place to another and waste lots of energy. And when I’m at a place I try to avoid snowmobiles. I just try to gather information from those who live in the area. There are endless possibilities on every mountain that has snow. Therefore I even think snowboarders don’t need parks. They aren’t even ethical when you look at all the energy that’s necessary to build them. I try to do as much as possible, but as a professional snowboarder you also get used to a certain lifestyle that’s not always green.”

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name GIAN SIMMEN age 31 hometown KRATTIGEN, SWITZERLAND sponsors O’NEILL, SANTA CRUZ, SMITH, DRAKE, NORTHWAVE, LEVEL, FORD

“We take all resources from Mother Earth and we don’t give time for it to heal. But nature has always been stronger than human beings. We already have big storms, twisters, hurricanes, floods and droughts and someday nature will make very clear what we have to do – it will strike back! But we can do little things to make a change. I don’t let the water run while brushing my teeth, I walk to the store, I recycle as much as possible, I have a garden where I grow my own vegetables and I switch off electronic devices when not using them. Those are small things, but if everybody does them, they add up and make a difference.”

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name ANTTI AUTTI age 23 hometown ROVANIEMI, FINLAND sponsors FLOW, BILLABONG, GIRO, DAKINE, GSM KUSTOM, VONZIPPER, ROCKSTAR, SUOMI

“Many people don’t realise what’s going on with global warming. Winters are changing. Back home I don’t get to see real snow before December, while a few years ago I used to start hitting jumps in October. The change is huge. What have I been doing to change things? I’ve been trying to wear organic clothes, I’m trying to use my car wisely and at home I’m recycling bottles, plastic and paper. That said, I do belong to the category of people that just can’t avoid all the things that badly affect nature as I have to use planes, trains and other transportation that is bad for the environment... Guess I’m still working towards being the ideal green snowboarder.“

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name THOMAS HARSTAD age 27 hometown OSLO, NORWAY sponsors O’NEILL, SPY, ELAN, 32, ETNIES, LEVEL

“I’m probably not one of the best guys when it comes to being green. I’m flying quite a lot and that’s actually one of the worst things you can do. But I try to sort my garbage and try to recycle. I also try to ride my bike more often instead of using my car. I have to admit it’s not something that’s constantly on my mind, but I feel like I’m getting more and more aware. Everybody has to do their own little share, otherwise nothing will happen. At the end of the day, I’m sure that if something real gnarly is going to happen to the planet people might finally wake up. That counts for me as well.” www.oneilleurope.com

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Shredding on one leg? Meet the amazing Thayne Mahler.

text zoe oksanen photography chris owen

Thayne Mahler is a talented snowboarder, be it in Alaska or in the park. He boasts Burton and Mt Bachelor as sponsors and has been a snowboard coach at High Cascade summer camp in Mt Hood for seven summers. But that’s where normality ends, for the thirty-year-old American does all of the above, including a pretty mean frontside three, with the help of a prosthetic leg. The accident that cost Thayne’s right leg took place on a casual trip to Mt Hood back in 1996. Thayne hiked the mountain in the afternoon only to find conditions were not up to scratch and the wind was picking up. “We decided to head down to our camp. I stopped on the descent and took a picture of two of my friends,” Thayne explains. “They continued down the mountain and out of sight. As I followed I lost my edge and began to tumble. I landed in a ten-foot hole next to the cliff I had fallen from. My right leg landed in some rocks and broke in two places on impact. I knew I had to get out of the hole on my own, so I used my board as a crutch to get myself onto my feet, but my right leg was still stuck in the rocks. I had to pry it out. When I got out of the hole it had started to get dark. I realised I would have to spend the night there.” The following afternoon, a helpless and freezing Thayne saw a small plane circling and managed to get its attention by reflecting the light from his camera lens. An hour later a helicopter was coming to get him. He was ecstatic: “I even got a picture of it. What a way to get my first heli ride!” After three weeks of attempts to save his leg, Thayne realised that amputation was his best option – not an easy choice for anyone to take. But is he complaining? Hell no! Thayne is one of those rare human beings who seem to find the positive in any situation. In fact, he was back on the snow just two days after getting his ‘new leg’ fitted. “I got on my snowboard quickly after getting my leg because I had sat around for so long,” he explains, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “The first run on my new leg hurt a lot. I only took one run that day. The next day I took two. I worked my way up from there.” Today Thayne spends half the year working with the Dew Action Sports Tour, building skate and BMX ramps, and then riding whenever he gets a chance to hit the slopes. And the best part of it all? His snowboarding is just getting better all the time. “My leg puts my body weight in an awkward position and doesn’t bend some ways I wish it did to do certain tricks,” he admits. “But I am constantly improving and I think that’s what keeps snowboarding from becoming routine for me.” Life will continue to throw shit at you. And it’s the Thaynes of this world who make you realise that you don’t have to sink in it

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www.burton.com

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Life’s A Bargain The enduring living legend of Jeffrey’s Bay’s Bruce Gold.

Text Miles Masterson Photography Richard Johnson

Jeffrey’s Bay, South Africa. A tall, old man appears quietly on the wooden boardwalks on the dunes overlooking the point, amongst the exploding orange aloes, and clusters of coffeeclutching surfers. Incongruous amid their hip labels, the codger looks like he has stepped out of Alby Falzon’s Morning of the Earth. He’s wearing torn, bright rainbow-hued pants, a leather waistcoat, and all manner of leather pouches and ankh-shaped artefacts which dangle under his straggly white beard. He greets a few locals and squints into the breaking day as a set rolls in. He then approaches

you and a mutual friend and blurts out a vibrant “Shalom Chom!”, adding that he’s noticed a lull in the crowd and he’d better get on it before the sun gets too high. Your acquaintance then introduces you, and you bump fists. “Fine Weather Positive,” he smiles a toothless grin, and offers you a piece of grapefruit (which you politely accept), before he moves off with surprisingly sprightly intent. As you splutter on the bitter citrus, you realise you’ve just met a living legend, as much part of J-Bay as the pelicans and dolphins, and the town’s last true hippie: Bruce Gold.

Bruce, who celebrated his sixtieth birthday in 2007, is one of the few sexagenarians to brave the cutthroat line up of J-Bay’s ultimate arena, Supertubes. He’ll tackle it up to six feet plus, although if it gets any bigger, he’ll usually either go down to the mellower waves of Point, or take up his place in the peanut gallery overlooking the surf with the other old timers. It’s only around four feet today though, and as you paddle out a while later, you see him sitting in the line up with the same hat on, bidding a passing seagull top of the morning with equal friendliness he did you. Although he tends to ▼

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he jokes that pro surfers are ‘whores’ even though he’s on first-name terms with many of them.

go straight, his arms often raised in an old-school, soul-arch ‘salute’, Bruce’s wave knowledge, honed over four decades, is obvious, as he steers and trims his favourite 8’2” effortlessly through the racy Supers sections, to the appreciative hoots of those paddling out. As one of Jeffrey’s Bay’s longest full-time surfing residents, Bruce remembers when the first Americans arrived in a Land Rover in the early 1960s with cameras, and how the few local surfers (mostly ferals camping in tents on the dunes), thought that this sacrilegious appearance was the beginning of the end. Of course, it took a while for the crowds to reach the apocalyptic levels of today, so back then, the main problem for Bruce and his fellow itinerant ‘pot smoking hippie’ surfers was steering clear of the conservative Afrikaans community, with whom they had to share the small fishing town. For a while he lived in a derelict house held together with wire, and at times has been without a fixed address, but Bruce now stays alone in a former servant’s quarters in a mansion belonging to an American surfer, Kurt, where he tends to the garden overlooking the entire bay. Bruce has had a few women in his life, but is laughingly averse to marriage, saying it is the enemy of surfing freedom. He’s got few possessions, besides scores of shells and other flotsam and jetsam collected on the beach, and two-dozen surfboards ranging from a rare Midget Farrelly single fin to a Joel Tudor fish. Bruce grins as he taps a metal chest, and explains how it contains the last possessions of his mate Mickey Dora. He explains how Da Cat asked him to never open this surfing Pandora’s Box, but he jokes, “Dora always used to say, ‘Don’t sell out’, but I’m thinking of auctioning off the contents when Leonardo Di Caprio brings his movie out.” “Selling out” or, in fact not selling out is something Bruce discusses often. He jokes that pro surfers are ‘whores’ even though he’s on firstname terms with many of them, and is not averse to scoring a bit of free product himself. Always the true hippie, however, Bruce gets by on minimal ‘bones’ (his term for cash) and sustains

his bohemian lifestyle by flogging shells that he picks up on the beach, bartering, and surviving through his amiable, raconteur nature from the generosity of others, prompting one local to remark, “Bruce can always find a hot meal in J-Bay.” Although he’s sometimes known as ‘Boozer’ (a nickname from his youth that he hates), Bruce’s longevity and survival also stem from careful habits. He is fastidious about staying away from sugars and fast food and he cooks up a mean stew. His philosophies include an equal fascination with religion, unicorns and far-out theories. These make, if you are so inclined, for hours of fascinating conversation – be it in the sober light of day, or late at night over a few sly cigarettes or doobies following yet another J-Bay party. “I’m still a kid,” Bruce is fond of saying, especially after a few ales. However, in a more pensive mood late one night, Bruce concedes that Jeffrey’s Bay is perhaps not the place for him anymore. The town is far removed from the short-lived, mushroomenhanced, surfer nirvana era he’s never really grown out of. It’s now a crowded, gaudy holiday resort, a fast-living place known to corrupt old-timers and teenagers alike. In fact, many of the latter also consider Bruce himself something of a relic – although it’s hard to imagine J-Bay without its unofficial mayor and very own Gandalf. One bright Sunday morning, as he is preparing to go surfing down at nearby St Francis, Bruce dons a towelling shroud to protect himself against the fierce African sun and thwart skin cancer (he’s already had surgery a few times, but reckons that sun cream is toxic). He clowns around with a wooden staff, completing the visual analogy to the Tolkien character. He humbly declines a seat in the front of his nephew’s ute and jumps in the back with his small dog, Scooter-Girl, with adolescent excitement. “You know what the cowboy said when he lost his dog?” he calls out before they leave. “Doggone! He said doggone, bru.” If you are ever in J-Bay and see this friendly, unmistakeable old surfer, go and greet him and get him to tell you a story or a joke. He’ll be happy to oblige. You’ll have met a living part of local surfing history and, who knows, you might even score a free wedge of grapefruit in the process

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EYE ON THE PRIZE Welcome to the underground evolution of Andrew Marr.

text miles masterson photography AL MACKINNON

Few things in this world remain beyond the media’s reach. And big wave surfing – now a breeding ground for fast fame – is no different. Thankfully though, many big wave riders still just do it for the love. For these reluctant surf stars, notoriety is often more of a burden than a boon and any attendant reward a mere bonus. That’s the case with South Africa’s Andrew Marr, who rose from obscurity last year thanks to a nomination for ‘Ride of the Year’ in 2007’s Billabong XXL competition. But thirty-three-year-old Andrew’s evolution into the surfing spotlight has been full of obstacles. For a start, a car crash in 1994 – in which he broke numerous bones and ligaments – had doctors saying he would never surf again. They were wrong. With the tenacity of a rubber band, Andrew overcame the physical and mental challenges and bounced back to rip, placing in a number of surfing events in the nineties. During this time he also began to discover his passion for big waves, although almost by default. He and a mate had planned a trip to Indonesia, but at the last minute decided to go to Hawaii. But even here, Marr had to overcome injury, as barely a few days into his virgin trip he was once again bleeding profusely. This time thanks to a skeg cutting his knee, which had doctors repeating that he couldn’t surf. “That was absolutely devastating,” recalls Andrew, who hung in there, if only to prove medical experts wrong once again, and was surfing within two weeks, albeit with a brace. “I think they don’t want to get their asses sued, you know, by saying that,” he jokes. “But I think it also triggers something inside me, like, ‘I will defy!’” Totally committed, Andrew focused his energy on dialling into Waimea Bay, and has alternated between the winters of South Africa and scraping enough money to go to Hawaii six months at a time every year for the last decade. Over time, thanks to his growing rep as a fearless charger in both locales, Andrew was also invited to the Red Bull Big Wave Africa at Dungeons in 2002 and eventually came second in the event in 2006, the same year he received the XXL nomination for being towed into a bomb set at the same break. Many surfers across the world felt that Andrew’s wave should have won the 50k (instead of Skindog Collins’), but Andrew is ambivalent. “It was pretty flattering just to be at that awards evening and rub shoulders with all those people,” he says humbly, adding with a smile: “I think the wave is the prize; I’ve always believed that.”

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Andrew Marr has been nominated again for both XXL ‘Ride of the Year’ and ‘Biggest Wave’ awards, and has been charging Todos Santos recently. Check out www.billabongxxl.com to see him in action.

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Fifty days Fifty nights Text Michael Kew Photography Chris Burkard

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Two guys, no plan and a whole lot of coastline spawns The California Book Project.

It’s a classic pursuit, the lengthwise traversal of California, its thousand variegated Pacific miles playing host to a million surf trips. For some, the coastal Golden State journey is a rite of passage; for others, it’s an annual urge that keeps gas in the tank of even the most seasoned California surf-searcher. For photographer Chris Burkard, twenty, it was indeed a first; for surfer Eric Soderquist, twenty-eight, it was a return. Late last year, the two San Luis Obispo County natives took to highways 1 and 101 and lived for two months in Soderquist’s 1978 Volkswagen van, touring the cruisey autumnal scene from Oregon to the Tijuana Sloughs, Burkard photographing, Soderquist surfing and painting (and driving most of the time). And so the two friends alighted on a sort of quest with no set plan other than to have none at all. This unscheduled setting would eventually spawn a book, its working title being simply The California Book Project. Here, they talk to HUCK about their personal Californian surf odyssey. ▼

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encinitas, socal.

alex grey, san simeon, central coast.

tijuana-san diego border.


HUCK: So, what was the deal with this trip? CHRIS BURKARD: Eric and I had been trying to figure out how to combine his art and my photography in a project that we could really be involved in, something that we believed in and something we loved. Many of the places you guys visited are known for their less-than-welcoming locals. Any bad vibes along the way? CB: We ran into many locals, and ninety per cent of the time they greeted us with warm welcomes, but since arriving home we have received a few death threats and some eggy emails from strange people. Some guys think that just because the public sees my pictures of unidentified spots, everyone is going to come surf ‘their’ waves by the vanload. Bottom line is, some people are just a little too paranoid. ERIC SODERQUIST: The vibes were good. I was surfing by myself most of the time, and my approach wasn’t aggressive, so it was mellow. But the old soul man doesn’t want people clustering up his visuals, and most spots are really special to people, and that had to be respected. What did you expect to discover along the wild coast between Oregon and San Francisco? CB: Mostly sharks, sharks and more sharks. I guess that I was really expecting these pristine, undiscovered waves with redwood backdrops too, and that’s pretty much what we found. Our first two weeks up there were a little damp, but it really set the tone for the trip as we had to rely on the van for shelter. We were expecting a real rugged time, and for the most part it was – but it was so worth it. ES: My family has a ranch in Humboldt, so I’ve been going up there since childhood. I would generally go surfing with my dad and his brother and sister – they didn’t surf much, but they would dust off their old wetsuits and boogie boards when I came to town, and we would go hang at the Cove all day. My uncle is an old-school farmer, and to see him catch a wave in a fifteen-yearold wetsuit on a Mach 77 is a hysterical sight. So my expectations were on that level: check out some big trees, ride some trippy waves, camp, and enjoy myself. The rain threw a kink in things, because of leaks and driving conditions, but we were able to tape the front windshield to stop the leaks, and I didn’t drive much at night, so everything worked out. You guys are from California’s Central Coast [the bit between Point Conception in the south and Monterey Bay in the north]. Did that prevent you in any way from appreciating the area with fresh eyes? CB: To be honest I think that, yeah, it did a little bit, but that is the same with anywhere you have already seen. You can never say that you can experience the North Coast the same way as you experience Los Angeles, because LA has already left a bad taste in your mouth. But we really tried to leave ourselves open. I mean, had we not been from here we probably would have been tripping on the whole scene in Pismo – all the crazy people and bum kids – but we were over it and have experienced it our whole lives. You know, we really did give the whole coast what it deserved. We spent a lot of time where it counted. It’s never easy to get to where you live your whole life and then experience it almost like a tourist, but, hey, we still slept in the van! ES: We still explored, and thanks to a heat wave and full moon, we walked around a lot at night checking things out. We saw some perspectives and outlooks that were completely foreign, and I think I heard an owl pick off a baby pig – it sounded crazy. Nature still rules those mountains. ▼

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del norte county, northern california.

How did Southern California contrast to your surf experiences in the more rural north? CB: People dispel Southern California and act like all the spots are played out, and that there’s no room for discovery, but there is so much to be seen and found down there. It’s definitely more congested, and you don’t get those really personal intimate surf sessions like you do up north. To me, SoCal doesn’t really compare, but if warm water and girls all over the beach is your thing, then it’s your place. I guess it’s just different – you show up at the beach and there are logos everywhere and photographers. It’s the ‘heart and soul’ of surf media, you know. ES: SoCal started off great. All the points were breaking, which was a rare treat. We slept amongst the industrial buildings in Ventura at my friend’s warehouse – we hung out around a fire in an old barrel and had a good time. Our setting began to change a lot, spots to sleep at were getting hard to find, and parking tickets started to pile up. It started getting more and more crowded, but there were still nooks and crannies that were amazing – there was just more traffic to get to them. How did you feel when you finally reached the Mexican border? ES: I couldn’t believe we were there – what a mission to be on. It was gnarly, though, because we got there by foot. We walked several miles on a horse trail to get there, with the idea of doing night exposures of the border wall. Two horsemen came trotting up: they were Border Patrol and were absolutely amazed to see two random guys hiking around. They told us it was a bad idea to be in those parts, that it was a dangerous place to be. So we walked back to the bus in the pitch black, and I was starting to get a little nervous, the slightest sound made me jumpy and I thought, ‘What the hell was I thinking? It’s over. Let it be. We’re done.’ CB: Personally that was the point at which I realised it wasn’t just a surfer’s journey. It was an artist’s journey, a photographer’s journey, a traveller’s journey, and anyone who loves California and what it has to offer is going to want to pick this book up and hopefully be inspired to get out there and see it for themselves

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The California Book Project will be released by Chronicle Books in early 2009. www.thebookprojectca.com www.ericsoderquist.com www.burkardphoto.com

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The UK’s original eco-community open their tipi flaps to show us alternative living hardcore style. This is not a lifestyle, it’s a life.

Text SARAH BENTLEY Photography DEBBIE BRAGG

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o. It’s no good. I can’t do it.” We’re perched at the top of a frighteningly steep precipice. Debbie – photographer, fellow blonde and my partner in reporting crime – is gripping the steering wheel so tight her hands are blue. A narrow path winds down to the sanctuary of flat ground. To the left is a sheer drop. All around is a dense blanket of impassable trees and bushes. There is no other way down. Are we at the summit of an epic Welsh mountain? No, we are lost, cold and scared whilst trying to find our way to Tipi Valley, the UK’s original ecocommunity. If it hadn’t been for the mercy of a local farmer – “Don’t worry, angels, I’ll get ya sorted” – we’d still be marooned in a ditch somewhere in Carmarthenshire, our back-to-nature winter Hajj abandoned. We eventually do arrive at our destination,

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though by the time we pull up at this picturesque farmhouse with semi-built tipis scattered about the yard (“This must be it!”), we’re physically and emotionally exhausted. A bright-eyed twentythree-year-old called Rush offers to take us to Big Lodge, the site’s guest quarters. As we drop down into the lush green valley it’s like entering a parallel universe. Canvas structures in perfect harmony with their natural surroundings dot the hillside. Posses of wild-haired kids roam about playing in streams and squelching in mud. Men with long bobble hats and baggy raver pants push wheelbarrows loaded with solar panel-charged car batteries. A rotund pig squawks urgently, and in the distance it’s possible to make out a field of wild horses. “It’s beautiful,” exclaims Debbie. “And the challenge of the journey makes being here all the more rewarding. You have to really want to come otherwise you’d probably never make it.” ▼


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gobe the cat prowls the valley getting food and tummy rubs off everyone.

big lodge allows a constant flux of guests to visit and temporarily stay at tipi valley.

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some valley dwellers reside in huts, round houses, yurts, caravans and converted vehicles.

chris waite, one of the founding residents of tipi valley, arrived here in the seventies. after eight years in a tipi, he now lives in a cottage.

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the community has thrived three decades with no rul been autonomous with no

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he discourse of ‘green’ has gone mainstream and there’s no escaping it. It seems spin-doctors and marketeers alike have got hold of the term and just won’t let go. Sustainability is a buzzword bandied around lefty press and the market place in a battleground of bamboozling certificates – Fairtrade, Locally Produced, Carbon Neutral, Biodegradable Capacity, Ozone Friendly, Planet Balanced, Dolphin Friendly, Badger Friendly, Recycled Paper, whatever. In the wake of all this, it’s not surprising there’s been a swelling of people wishing to dedicate themselves in a way that goes much deeper than buying hemp socks, a biodegradable surfboard and a ‘I’m Not A Plastic Bag’ shopping bag. Across the UK and Europe more people than ever are banding together to form co-operatives and ecocommunities, all with their own aims, objectives and degrees of ‘hardcore-ness’. Diggers and Dreamers is the online nucleus of the UK’s burgeoning subculture of eco and co-operative communities. To date the site has just under 100 communities listed, ranging from old mansions with forty residents growing their own food and generating electricity to townhouses occupied by six care workers. A good example is Tinker’s Bubble in Somerset, where residents have been living off the land since 1994. Power tools are banned and all food – vegetables, grains, meat – is produced as it would have been two hundred years ago. The residents of Steward Community Woodland in Devon, however, welcome modern power tools in their mission to live in and off the coppice woods. Urban dwellings like the Hockerton Housing Project in Nottinghamshire and the Islington Park Street Community in London focus on a supportive, communal lifestyle with skill swapping, shared mealtimes and group-generated

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entertainment – drumming, chanting, singing, talking – replacing television. Tipi Valley is the daddy of all UK ecocommunities. Founded in 1976, it’s a 200-acre expanse of rolling countryside bought piece by piece from local farmers by its 200 or so residents (100 during the winter). The community includes families, singletons, activists, hippies, many ‘originals’, festival junkies, environmentalists, astrologers, artists, musicians and the like. The majority live in low-impact dwellings – tipis, yurts, caravans, huts, round houses – scattered across the idyllic valley. Others shack up in converted vehicles –­buses, trucks, campervans – and a small number reside in cottages. The community has seen over sixty home births and there are families with three generations living there. Many of the children born in Tipi Valley leave for the city but end up coming back after a few years. Rush was born in a village a few miles away from the valley, and his father was one of the seventies hippies that originally founded the site. Aged twenty, he left the valley for a stint in Birmingham but returned after three years because city life made him feel like “a cog in a machine”. Compared to the bulk of newer initiatives, their ethos is refreshingly simple, the blurb on the Diggers & Dreamers website stating, “The idea is that we are part of nature, living within nature.” Testament to how harmonious life can be without protocol and hierarchies, the community has thrived and survived over three decades with no rules and has always been autonomous with no big cheeses or councils. Everyone takes care of their own economy, and they never have group votes or business meetings. Instead, the community runs on “personal relationships and consensus”. On this principle, they’ve held massive free parties, fought numerous legal battles, expanded their land

ownership and welcomed a steady stream of new and constantly evolving residents all with their own lifestyle ideals. Of course, for all this to work there is one unspoken rule: respect. As twenty-something resident of four years Shane (there is no place for precise ages and surnames at Tipi Valley) explained to me, “If there is any rule it’s respect. Respect yourself, respect others and respect nature. That and take your shoes off before entering a dwelling. No one wants muddy bulrush matting.”

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ig Lodge is Tipi Valley’s majestic guest tipi with silhouettes of dancing figures circling its canvas. In keeping with the hippie tradition of welcoming guests of a shared mindset, it is permanently open with no booking required – you just turn up. No other UK community welcomes guests so freely, and it means those thinking of moving down can try out the lifestyle firsthand. Lifting up the canvas ‘door’ we plunge inside onto the bulrush flooring to find José and Harvey, two long-term guests. Harvey is cocooned in his sleeping bag sheltering from what had been a freezing January night. With a full bed head on, José is positioning sticks into a pointed triangle in the centre of a large circle of stones preparing to light the first fire of the day. “Tea anyone?” They tell us the tipi used to be a café on the free festival circuit. During the six months they’ve been here, they’ve seen a variety of guests come and go, including ‘John from Birmingham’ who went for a wash one morning and never came back, and a posse of nine female activists from Spain who arrived bearing an abundance of Ketamine. “Phreww,” says José, “those ladies were hardcore.” Harvey is staying in Big Lodge until it’s time for


and survived over es and has always big cheeses or councils. him to start a new job as a doorman in the South of France, but José is about to build his own dwelling, a yurt. A yurt is a dome structure with a witch’s cauldron-like bulbous stove, as opposed to a fire, providing heating and cooking. Some of the families that live in the valley have three connecting yurts giving them a communal, adult and children’s space. Round Houses are the ‘new thing’ to build, their mud walls and turf roofs making them the ultimate low-impact dwellings as they camouflage into the countryside. There are currently about thirty tipis scattered across the valley. The structures are amazingly resilient against the rain and wind-heavy Welsh climate, rainwater running down the side and winds of up to 100mph whipping past the huts. That said, even the most hardy tipi dwellers have experienced calamity. Last week Tina, a sinewy lady with an impeccably run tipi who raised her now fifteen-yearold son, Max, within the community, had to dodge a falling tipi pole as 80mph winds ripped her home up around her. “Not what you need when you’re tucking into your morning porridge,” says Tina. A true tipi has a hole at the top to allow smoke to escape. A smoke flap is attached to two poles (usually made of pine). According to wind direction it can be angled so rain doesn’t get in but smoke can still get out. To prevent land getting damaged, residents move their tipis every six months. Tipis were originally made of animal skins or birch bark and were popularised by the American Indians of the Great Plains. Their portability was a huge factor since most Plains Indians were highly mobile, and tipis could be packed down when the tribe decided to move. ‘Tipi’ came into English via the Lakota language, ‘thi’ meaning ‘to dwell’ and ‘pi’ meaning ‘they dwell’. The first tipi made in the UK in contemporary times was built by actor and filmmaker Chris Waite

in 1974. A major player in the original free party movement, he and his then partner worked out how to create a tipi by looking at a rudimentary diagram in hippie coffee table essential The Last Whole Earth Catalogue, an amazing book cataloguing everything from medieval farming tools to yoga positions and cattle driving techniques. They got the canvas made up in a sewing workshop in London and made the poles themselves with trees from local woodland, their self-taught ingenuity becoming the foundation of the UK’s entire tipibuilding movement. Chris is one of the founding fathers of Tipi Valley and remains there today albeit not in a tipi. “I did eight years of it,” he says. Instead, he now lives in a quaint farmhouse with open beams, a flushing toilet and a jar of alfalfa growing on the windowsill. Although not decked out in twenty-six-inch flares, his kill-you-with-kindness hospitality and propensity for saying ‘man’ gives away his background as one of the UK’s original hippies. Over herbal tea he waxes lyrical about the revolutionary nature of hippies in seventies Britain. “There was the establishment, and then there were us,” he says, highlighting how everything we take for granted in today’s society – sexual freedom, rave culture, the right to public protest, drug taking, youth culture, street fashion – was pioneered by them. Expanding one’s mind with cocktails of LSD, marijuana and moonshine was a staple hippie pastime and, unlike today, drug consumption was an offence that would almost certainly land you in jail. “You never knew when the knock on the door (from the police) would come,” says Chris. “It’s not like we could blend in. We looked different, fuck, we even smelt different.” This very real paranoia, combined with a desire to live a life more in tune with the earth, inspired hippies like Chris to hit the road in search of a piece of countryside ‘with heart’ to set up base.

He spent four years trundling around the British and Irish countryside before landing at what was to become Tipi Valley. Via word of mouth, news about the hippie community spread and people from all over the UK started landing at the site. “Stan and Cherry drove a big red double-decker bus straight into a field,” he remembers. “We knew that there was strength in numbers. This was our world. When the sun went down we were free and we knew they couldn’t get at us here.” He then adds with a smirk: “Because they couldn’t fucking find us.” Although the bulk of Tipi Valley’s residents today could not strictly be described as hippies, much of the community’s social activities are rooted in its ethos. At least a couple of free raves take place on the ‘cricket pitch’ every year and Jim Jams, a musical jam that takes place at Jim’s cottage, happen monthly. On new moons, things take a decidedly more hardcore turn in the form of sweat lodge parties. A sweat lodge is a tipi filled with heated rocks to create a sauna. Clothes are shed outside in the moonlight and then a posse of around twenty people jump inside to jiggle around, chant, bang drums and whatever else they fancy (I say), before dashing out to jump in the nearby stream.

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espite its long-standing existence and Tipi Valley residents owning the land, the community’s legal status has been the object of discussion over the years. The majority of the land has been purchased for agricultural usage with no planning permission for residential structures. The Valley people argue the land is being used for agricultural purposes, and as they move every six months, their dwellings are nonpermanent agricultural structures. ▼

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tipis are beautiful structures, both majestic and in harmony with the natural surrounds. they are moved every six months so as not to damage the ground.

Brig Oubridge, a Valley dweller since 1979, is the go-to man for all things legal. He is the only Tipi Valley resident to have won a court case, confirming his three tents and one caravan are lawful, the process taking a staggering thirteen years. Proceedings started in 1993 when Oubridge applied for a retrospective lawful use certificate, which was declined. Two years later, when he had occupied the land for over ten years, a public inquiry ruled in his favour although various secretaries of state tried to have the decision overturned. In 2006 he was finally issued with a certificate. For all its naked sweat lodge action and tea drinking around roaring fires, life at Tipi Valley is hard graft. Although without the bureaucratic bullshit – bills, mortgages, rent – of mainstream society, come rain, shine or snow, firewood must be cut, water fetched and dwelling maintenance work – mending canvassses, inserting linings, fixing smoke flaps – must be done. Everyone has their own approach to washing, some take year-round dips in the icy streams while others, such as couple Chic and Ann and their two children, use an old tin bath. During the summer the valley is full of flowers and wildlife but in the winter it becomes a muddy bog with howling winds and endless rainstorms. Reverend Rik is one of the Valley ‘originals’, having lived there for over thirty years. From rainstorms that lasted 121 days to 100mph winds, he’s seen and lived through it all. Despite his hardy

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constitution, he hates how the valley has become a mud bog. “It’s awful, summer never happened this year so nothing had a chance to dry out,” he says. Yet he feels he has been there too long to move to a more comfortable abode: “After all this time, I don’t think I’d feel right in a house.” Besides battling the elements, the valley has a tendency of attracting wayward characters, its cutoff location and iffy legal stance meaning residents have to tackle them themselves. Last week Harvey and a posse of men had to escort out an axewielding psycho. “God knows where he came from,” he says. As if that weren’t enough, single ladies have to be mindful of marauding nutters who’ve accessed the camp via the travellers section (where everyone lives in beat-up trucks and buses) on the other side of the valley. Tina says, “It’s safer than any street but because of the type of place it is you get all sorts passing through so you have to be wary. I can tell by your body language you two are fine so next time come in for tea.”

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fter spending time at Tipi Valley, I’m struck by the variety of lifestyles, dwellings and characters harmoniously housed within it. From yogis holed up in tents on three-year retreats to families living in farmhouses running renowned tipi-building businesses and festivals such as The Big Green Gathering, it’s all here

with no hard or fast protocol. Some own cars, others don’t. Some grow all their own food while others shop in nearby town Llandeilo, pronounced Clandeilo. Some children are home schooled while others attend the local educational facility. Unlike other rule-dominated communities, at Tipi anything and everything goes and consequently it’s a hugely liberating place. I don’t think I’ve stopped grinning from the moment we arrived. Back at Big Lodge two new guests have arrived – Roselyn and Marcus – to attend the night’s Jim Jam. As darkness creeps in outside and rain begins to fall, we introduce ourselves over the dreamy glow of a roaring fire. Biscuits are shared, tea made and stories swapped. Roselyn is a flame-haired astrologer who “does a lot of work with Earth Magic” and a former Tipi Valley resident of six years. “I loved it here but eventually the winds got too much for me,” she says. “I missed my work as it was impossible to practise from a tipi. You can’t get phone reception, an Internet connection or ask clients to come down here for meetings.” Her pal Marcus is a dashing, wavy-haired twenty-something musician with a knack for playing medieval instruments. His previous experience of Tipi Valley was during the summer when the sun, butterflies and flowers were out in force. “This visit is good for me,” he muses. “Now I’m able to contrast the harsh reality of living in the Valley with the beauty and idealism of it. It’s deep.”

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has surfing in the uk changed over the last few decades? oh yes, says author and longtime surfer alf alderson.

british surfers have always travelled. on the road in sw france, 1979.

text and photography ALF ALDERSON

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Back in May 1990, as I was researching the Cornwall chapter of Surf UK, I found myself coerced into spending more days than I planned amongst the hardcore surf community of St. Agnes – a combination of good waves, friendly locals and a beautiful Australian surf chick were too much to resist. At the same time a group of local surfers, sick (literally) of surfing in shit off the local beaches, gathered in the town hall and decided to do something about their dilemma. That was the first ever meeting of Surfers Against Sewage (SAS). All those years ago it was impossible to imagine that SAS would become the enviropowerhouse it now is, that surfing would develop into a mainstream sport in Britain’s less than ideal climate and that Surf UK would eventually morph into the current third edition. Non-surfers would probably consider all of the above to be a positive thing since we live in a society where growth is good (is it…?). But if you ask those early nineties surfers what they think about the rise and rise of UK surfing, you’ll probably get some very mixed responses, especially if you elicit their opinions of books like Surf UK and the more recent development of surf websites and surfcams that give it all away, allowing anyone with board and wetsuit to roll up at the best surf on any given stretch of coast. I am sometimes accused of being partly responsible for this increase in popularity. Yet I never received aggressive criticism from the locals I met when researching the book in 1990. Many were only too pleased to tell me how good the waves were along their stretch of coast, although I was well aware that they were keeping quiet about various ‘secret spots’, and there are indeed breaks that don’t appear in my book because I firmly believe that no guide should be in the business of revealing absolutely everything to everyone. Indeed, perhaps the greatest irony I came

across whilst working on Surf UK this time round was the fierce ‘localism’ that rears its ugly head in the least likely of spots. Heavily subscribed breaks such as Croyde and Fistral develop their own obvious pecking order such that the locals who are catching all the waves have no great need to get heavy with visiting surfers. That said, head to more remote locales such as Northumberland and Scotland, places at which there are not and never will be enough surfers for the waves to get crowded, and localism can sometimes become an issue. For instance, legendary surf forecaster and photographer ‘The Gill’ and former European longboard champ Guts Griffiths recently ventured into the wilds of Northumberland with boards, cameras and long lenses and on arrival were informed by a few ‘locals’ in no uncertain terms NOT to reveal to the outside world the quality of waves they encountered there. On a more positive note, remember my earlier mention of Surfers Against Sewage? Well, thanks to them one aspect of UK surfing has certainly changed for the better since 1990. Surfers all around the country now have much cleaner waters than they did eighteen years ago, and a large part of this is due to the innovative and extremely effective lobbying that SAS has done on their behalf. In 1990, Wales, for instance, had just a handful of ‘Blue Flag’ beaches. Now, thanks to a combination of lobbying by SAS and working in close co-operation with Welsh Water, the principality has forty-nine Blue Flag beaches and it’s pretty difficult to actually find polluted sea water along most stretches of the Welsh coast. It’s ironic, though, that in a way SAS have possibly been as responsible as anyone for raising the profile of surfing in the UK, and thus the number of surfers in the water. Their campaigns have proved popular outside the relatively insular world of surfing and grabbed the attention of Joe Public to the extent that

the organisation is one of many that have introduced the man and woman in the street to surfing. I hasten to add that this has not been for their own benefit and profit, like so many surf companies. And therein lies a negative aspect of the current UK surf scene in my humble opinion. I’d like to see more of the big brands put something back into the environment they make all their money from. After all, many companies produce their clothes cheaply overseas, with a heavy carbon footprint to go with it, only to sell them with a high price tag at chi-chi surf boutiques across the land. Worse still, the surf hardware most of us buy – boards, wetsuits, boardshorts, leashes, wax – is derived from petrochemicals, so both surf companies and surfers have an eco dilemma of massive proportions to face: we can only enjoy the closeness to nature that so many surfers bang on about through the use of ‘toxic toys’, and right now we have few if any alternatives. Surely both surfers and surf companies have a duty to pay back just a little? Yet few big surf companies are members of enviro-groups such as 1% for the Planet (www.1percentfort heplanet.com), a network of environmentally aware businesses that donate one per cent of their sales to environmental causes. And that is the one place where surfing – in the UK and beyond – has changed for the worse since 1990: get bankers and shareholders involved and the heart and soul goes out the window. But fortunately there are still those remote breaks in places like West Wales, Northeast England and Northern Scotland where all that counts, still, is the surf and the people you’re riding it with. And that will hopefully never change

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The third edition of SURF UK is published this spring by John Wiley (www.wiley.com). And yes, Alf Alderson is a member of 1% for the Planet.

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CO WARRIORS IN A DECADE SATURATED WITH VAPID GREEN SLOGANS AND MARKETING BULLSHIT, THESE GUYS ARE ACTUALLY taking action to clean up their act.

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Kelli Bratvold

Mike Leblanc You don’t have to sacrifice style to be ecologically conscious. Holden outerwear, brainchild of shred legend and entrepreneur Mike LeBlanc, pretty much pioneered the eco movement in snowboarding gear. With head honcho LeBlanc leading the way, Holden have developed a waterproof hempfibre fabric, Cocona (a coconut shell-based lining), biodegradable packaging and even an environmentally friendly glue. Nice work, you’ll have to admit. So what else does he do to save the world? “Personally, I try to eat local and organic food, recycle, car pool and buy used items as much as possible. When I do buy new, I opt for the highest quality as these items last much longer.” His approach to ‘being green’ is as much influenced by philosophy and relationships as it is by his actions. “Part of me sees the world as full of suffering,” he admits. “That can either motivate or make one be complacent, even angry. If I let myself think too much I could be completely depressed, so instead I take on what I can daily. I believe in constant improvement, so I do what I can and make that a habit.” In 2007 he had what was arguably the most fun snowboard film part ever in Absinthe’s Optimistic, which aimed to explore how global warming would affect snowboarding. But does he think it got the message across? “I think it was a great effort, but now the audience will have to be open to take it in – I am sure it hit some new people.” When asked for final words, Mike, perhaps unsurprisingly, gets all philosophical on us: “We’re just a speck of dust on a big rock, so make choices to have fun, love, and be open to change.” Gemma Freeman

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Jan Masny

FINISTERRE The clever dudes at Finisterre want to change the way you do business. (And wrap you up in fluffy waterproof goodness, made from sustainable sources of course, while they’re at it.) Tom Kay, who launched Finisterre back in 2002, created the brand as a vehicle for his three biggest passions: surfing, the environment and great surfing product. Tom was later joined by Ernest Capbert, who swapped a lucrative Washington DC job at giant weapons maker Lockheed Martin for the hippie hinterland of Cornwall, England. “I left the States and took a huge pay cut, no benefits, nothing,” says Ernie. “Two years later, we have a pretty damn strong brand that’s leading the market ethically and environmentally.” Nominated for Eco Brand of the Year at

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ISPO, Finisterre are spreading the green word one fashionable jacket at a time. “All our fabrics are sourced from envirofriendly manufacturers,” says Ernie. “Our waterproofs are made in Colombia. The factory is run by nuns and is part of a social rehabilitation programme for ex-prostitutes and drug offenders. We sleep better and in the long run this approach is always going to be more sustainable.” But can they stay in the game in a world where obsessive profit making rules the day? Tom thinks so – and is pretty sure Finisterre are on the right track: “We do have to make some money, but the amount that you reinvest into environmental initiatives, offsetting any damages you may have caused, that’s where the future’s gotta be.” Vince Medeiros


John Coulthard

KENNY ANDERSON Kenny Anderson has been a pro skateboarder for a solid decade now. His ultra-smooth skating has always made him stand out as one of the illest of contemporary rollers. Now the thirtyone-year-old has been getting noticed for his efforts way beyond his day job as a pusher of the proverbial wood. Travelling throughout his skate career, Kenny has seen enough death and destruction to develop an interest in saving planet earth. “My wife has probably had the most influence,” says Kenny about his environmental interests. “She used to work with children diagnosed with autism, and we would have conversations about how there could be environmental causes for it. Over time, I learned more and more about other health issues related to the environment.” A longtime rider of Elwood Clothing,

Kenny’s signature line features as many ecofriendly materials as possible – organic cotton, bamboo, some hemp blends – and they’re now in the process of producing gear made from recycled plastic bottles. Kenny’s most recent project outside of skate is a super unique car company called JG’s Mercedes. Owned by Anderson, his buddy JG and Aaron ‘Fudge’, the company sells classic diesel Mercedes Benz cars that can run on alternative fuels – such as SVO (straight vegetable oil) or WVO (waste vegetable oil). The modified mercs pump out a lot less greenhouse smoke and other toxic pollutants. Says Kenny: “As the world evolves and we reduce our need for foreign oil, our business will evolve with it. In the meantime, I’ll continue driving my car with hope for the future.” Jay Riggio

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Cole Barash

GRETCHEN BLEILER Gretchen Bleiler is one pretty face with nothing left to prove. The twenty-six-year-old staked out her role as a female snowboarding pioneer the second she took ownership of the slickest invert in the halfpipe. Her signature crippler helped her bag gold at this year’s Winter X Games (for the third time), silver at Turin 2006, and the reputation as a seriously progressive force. But conquering the podiums is not the only thing on Gretchen’s to-do list. While other pros continue to stick their heads in the sand (or is it snow...?) this Aspen local is staring climate change straight in the eye. “I’ve watched the winter seasons get shorter and shorter,” says Gretchen, whose collection for Oakley features eco outerwear made from recycled material. “It used to be

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October to May, now it’s only January through March. Every one of us is responsible for the condition of our planet, therefore every one of us needs to be a part of the solution.” In an industry laden with guilt, Gretchen’s not afraid to speak out. Through her work with stopglobalwarming.org and Aspen/ Snowmass’ ‘Save Snow’ campaign, she’s awakening her peers to the very real, very scary possibility of a future free of snow. “It’s sad when companies or riders don’t step up to the plate and say what they are doing, in fear that they will get their hand slapped for what they’re not doing,” she says. “It’s all about taking first steps, whether large or small, to encourage change.” How’s that for progression? Andrea Kurland



ew as r c r o b r A e h HUCK joins torth to ride powder they head nfor melting ice on and check st edge of the planet. the farthe

on

egor Comm esch and Gr text Hans Ri mann istian Weier photography Chr

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It was January already and our Alpine hometown had seen barely a flake of snow so we decided to do something about it. Our solution: to escape snowlessness by going some place where, regardless of weather or season or climate change, we’d find powder – and lots of it. It’s no surprise that a few months later the four of us – Christian Weiermann (photo), Danny Strasser (film), Hans Riesch (words) and snowboarder Berny Stoll – found ourselves heading north – way north. Our destination was the archipelago of Svalbard, an icy, Switzerlandsized playground only a thousand kilometres from the North Pole. The islands are administered by Norway, but thanks to the 1920 Svalbard Treaty, anyone from the several signatory countries can come over and set up shop. At the moment there are only three inhabited towns where altogether 3,000 people reside. Spitzbergen, the main island, has become famous for its vast polar bear population, of which there are far more than people. Basic infrastructure is found in Longyearbyen, which has a landing strip, markets, bars, some guesthouses and, essential for us, skidoo rentals. The small town was founded during the coal mining years, but these days it’s tourism that attracts more and more people to the island. Popular tour packages, in case you’re interested, include ‘polar bear watching’ and ‘skiing to the North Pole’. But this is not the way we wanted to do things: we were here to explore, check up on the melting ice, camp in virginal isolation and ride some seriously insane powder. Before we left town, several items were officially prescribed, including a gun, a signal fence and an emergency radio beacon, all of which were key in case there were brushes with bears or other wildlife. Following a few days spent getting ready, we finally set off. Loaded with tents, snowboards, food and, paradoxically enough, more than 200 litres of petrol, we threw our stuff onto the sledge and hooked it up to the snow-scooters. We were amped and ready to hit the road (or the snow, as it were), knowing full well that there’d be no shortage of backcountry riding, with Svalbard being blessed with about twenty-one hours of sunlight each day. Right away we were impressed by the vast landscape: fjords, table mountains, pyramids, level valleys and canyons without a single tree, all frozen in glittering ice. We drove 150 kilometres north across frozen fjords, past ▼

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huge glaciers and never-ending mountain ranges. We had to watch the ‘road’ carefully as a jam-packed scooter with a trailer can quickly sink in the powder, and a rescue attempt can easily take several hours. Eventually we set up camp on a rock spur at the base of the Urstomfjellet, which stands above two mighty glaciers. From there, we headed out on several trips to the surrounding spots using the scooters as logistical aids. Christian and Danny shuttled us up the mountains as far as possible – from there on we had to hike the rest of the way to the top. We soon realised that snow quality varies quite a bit depending on where you are: you can hit thirty-centimetre deep powder and hard-crusted snow in one line without having the chance to optically distinguish the difference. After some time our rhythm of life changed: we went to bed late, at around three in the morning, and got up late, almost never before ten. By then, the sun had already warmed our tents a little, making getting up and facing the brutal cold a more palatable task. (Some nights the temperature sank to minus twenty-five degrees Celsius!) A few days later we moved our camp to the Adventdalen area, as the mountain offered protection from the wind. At nearby Tellbreen we were blessed with the best powder turns of the whole trip. Unfortunately, avalanche risk was the highest there, with Berny releasing a small windslab from which he luckily escaped. Twelve days in the backcountry just flew by and we then left for Longyearbyen. Once back, we found couloirs and slopes that were in much better condition than when we had arrived there the first time. We promptly jumped on the chance to hit up all the best city spots within reach. The twenty-five days we spent on the islands left a powerful and lasting impression on the whole crew. We saw so much seemingly untouched beauty and at the same time noticed that even this far north the man from the south leaves his trace. In the pubs, restaurants and hotels you can see old pictures that show thick ice and completely frozen fjords. On our trip, though, we only dared to cross the fragile coat of ice in a few places for fear of sinking. Let’s just hope our own photos don’t become relics from a cold and distant past a few years down the line

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Special thanks to Arbor Europe. www.arborboards.com

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that’s right, the arbor bug, mother of all bamboo longboards, is up for grabs. Be the lucky reader who wins it and consider your carbon footprint stylishly halved. UK: Five issues for £15 EUROPE: Five issues for 30 Euros REST OF THE WORLD: Five issues for $60 Please send all cheques, PAYABLE TO HUCK LTD, to: Huck Magazine Subs Department Studio 209 134-146 Curtain Road London EC2A 3AR, uk You can also subscribe by going to our website on www.huckmagazine.com special thanks to the good folk at airjam for supplying us with the board. www.airjam.co.uk

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ORGANIC

PRODUCE Up your style, lower your footprint.

Clockwise from top left Seed bracelet Just Trade Organic & Fairtrade tank Kuyichi Organic & Fairtrade jeans Kuyichi ‘Hemperpedic’ sandal Gravis ‘Nostal Hemp’ shoe Kustom ‘Bamboo Bug’ longboard Arbor Organic cotton polo Element Organic cotton cap etnies SEED project Paua bracelet niin Eco shopping bag Loop Ethically-sourced silver bracelet Ingle & Rhode Organic & Fairtrade tee Tonic Organic cotton tee Rip Curl Eco shorts Reef Redemption Geoff McFetridge organic cotton tee Patagonia Organic cotton tee Ascension 103


Clockwise from top left Organic cotton tee Ciel Slip-ons Vans Organic cotton tee Rapanui ‘Claymore’ hat Planet Earth Green Label ecoSNEAKS Simple Boardshorts Volcom V.Co-Logical ECO wetsuit Body Glove

Stockists Arbor www.arborsports.com Ascension www.ascensionclothing.co.uk Body Glove www.bodyglove.com Ciel www.ciel.ltd.uk Element www.elementskateboards.com etnies SEED project www.etniesculture.com/seed Gravis www.gravisfootwear.com Ingle & Rhode www.ingleandrhode.com Just Trade www.justtrade.co.uk Kustom www.kustom.com Kuyichi www.kuyichi.com Loop available at www.urbanoutfitters.co.uk niin www.niin.co.uk Patagonia www.patagonia.com Planet Earth www.planetearthstreetwear.com Rapanui www.rapanuiclothing.com Reef Redemption www.reefredemption.com Rip Curl www.ripcurl.com Simple www.simpleshoes.com Tonic www.tonictshirts.com Vans www.vans.com Volcom www.volcom.com

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HucK’s FavourITe sTocKIsTs SHOW SOME LOVE TO YOUR LOCAL STORE! 50:50 Skateboards – Bristol, UK www.5050store.com

Half Pipe – London, UK www.half-pipe.co.uk

WeSC – Regensburg, Germany +49 941 54800

Alliance Board Store – Harrogate, UK www.allianceltd.co.uk

LCB Surf – London, UK www.lcbsurf.com

WeSC – Munich, Germany www.myspace.com/wescmunich

Airjam – Newquay, UK www.airjam.co.uk

Loose Fit – Brawnton, UK www.loose-fit.co.uk

Paul Frank Shop – Berlin, Germany +49 302 7874496

Artwords – London, UK www.artwords.co.uk

Loose Fit – Bristol, UK www.loose-fit.co.uk

Attitude Skateshop – Bremen, Germany www.attitude-skateshop.de

Attla Snowboards – Truro, UK www.attlasnowboards.com

Microzine – Liverpool, UK www.microzine.co.uk

Railslide – Frankfurt, Germany +49 692 84956

Big Wednesday – Falmouth, UK www.bigwednesdaysurf.com

Microzine – London, UK www.microzine.co.uk

Hall Eleven – Stuttgart, Germany www.halleleven.de

Boarderline – Aberdeen, UK www.boarderline.co.uk

Non-Stop – Nottingham, UK www.nonstopsportuk.com

Good Stuff – Munich, Germany www.goodstuff.de

Bored on Board – London, UK www.boredonboard.com

Nucleus – Swansea, UK www.nucleus-online.com

Terra X – Nuremberg, Germany www.tx-sports.de

Brighton Watersports – Brighton, UK www.thebrightonwatersports.co.uk

Revolutionz – Norwich, UK www.revolutionz.co.uk

Westside Surfing – Muenster, Germany +49 251 46200

The Consortium – Bournemouth, UK www.consortium.co.uk

Ride Snowboard Shop – Poole, UK www.ridesnow.co.uk

Namaste – Lyon, France www.namaste.fr

Dot Dot Dot – Brighton, UK www.oddballs.co.uk

Skate Warehouse – Okehampton, UK www.thewarehousegroup.co.uk

Ragdoll – Anglet, France www.myspace.com/ragdollshop

East Coast Surf – Norwich, UK www.eastcoastsurf.co.uk

Ski Surf – Colchester, UK www.skisurf.co.uk

Surf Panic – Annecy, France +33 (0) 4 50 45 25 90

Edge 2 Edge – Crawley, UK www.edge2edge.co.uk

Southside Boards – Glasgow, UK www.southsideboards.co.uk

Mister Good Deal – Brest, France +33 (0) 2 98 43 28 28

Edge Riders – Ipswich, UK www.edgeriders.com

SS20 – Oxford, UK www.ss20.co.uk

Hawaii Surf – Ivry sur Seine, France www.hawaiisurf.com

Elementz – Aberdeen, UK www.myspace.com/elementz_uk

Supertubes – Cornwall, UK www.supertubes.co.uk

Carhartt – Modena, Italy +33 20.59.23.66.63

Emoceanl – Newquay, UK www.livetosurf.co.uk

Troggs Surf Shop – Antrim, UK www.troggs.com

La Glisse – Turin, Italy www.laglisse.it

Entity Board Sports – Bidford-on-Avon, UK www.entityboardsports.co.uk

Urb – Brighton, UK +44 (0) 1273 -325336

Detour – Verona, Italy www.detour.it

Extreme Pie, UK www.extremepie.com

Wonderful Workshop – Bristol, UK www.wonderfulworkshop.com

Bomboclat – Monza, Italy www.bomboclat.it

Flavour Skateboard Shop – Newquay, UK www.flavouronline.co.uk

Blue Tomato – Schaling, Austria www.bluetomato.at

Minoia – Breca, Italy +39 03.03.38.52.15

Fluid Concept – Scarborough, UK www.fluidconcept.co.uk

Episoda – Berlin, Germany www.episoda.de

Focus – Edinburgh, UK www.focuspocus.co.uk

Partizan – Wiesbaden, Germany www.partizanshop.de

Freerider – Falmouth, UK www.freeridersonline.co.uk

Made In – Koeln, Germany www.madeincorp.com

HUCK is also available at Borders, Waterstone’s, Somerfield*, Presse Tabac, Relais H, Barnes and Noble, Selfridges, Harrods, Zavvi and select newsagents across Europe and North America. (*select stores) Want to stock HUCK? HUCK? Please contact ed@huckmagazine.com

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PHOTOGRAPHY SAM CHRISTMAS TEXT AND STYLING ANDREA KURLAND In a world dominated by the ‘bigger is better’ logic of the global super chain, diversity has become an endangered resource. There’s no room for original thought when the carbon copy conveyor belt is the fastest route to more, more, more. Lucky thing, then, that something bold and honest is striking back. Independent businesses, born of independent minds, are the lone stars in our strip mall landscape. So who better, we figured, to lead another revolution than the maverick traders who fight to stay indie. By wearing just a single item of eco-friendly clothing, they’re making small moves towards sparking big change. Take heed from London’s finest. While there may be strength in numbers, ‘one’ remains the strongest number of all.

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“Working for an independent co-op is great because we get to sell brands that we like. It’s not just about making money.” Billy Prendergast, Cooperative Member (Left to right) Nigel wears: Organic T-shirt by Carhartt / Billy wears: Shirt by Patagonia / Barnaby wears: Jumper by Howies

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“Beingbusinesses independent allhave about sticking it to The Man.“ which “Independent tendisto a more relaxed atmosphere Matthew Reynolds, is especially important in a tattoo studio.” Owner Jasmine Danks, Employee Matthew Jasminewears: wears:Shirt Tankby byPatagonia Kuyichi

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“Do we like being independent? I don’t even know how to answer that. It’s just what we do.” Radcliff Chambers, Barber Tony wears: Organic T-shirt by etnies SEED project

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“I prefer to be small and on my own because sometimes there are problems when people have different ideas.” Conceição A. Fernandes, Owner Conceição wears: Dress by People Tree

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“Being independent means the freedom to be as expressive and original as possible, without compromise.� Su Jorgensen, Owner Su wears: Dress by People Tree

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“Being independent was never a conscious thing. We just never wanted to be doing the same prescription crap as everyone else.� Nick, Owner Nick wears: Organic sweat by Carhartt

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“Because the store is independent, it’s an ever-changing environment. We make all the decorations ourselves. The place has a life of its own; it’s defined by the people who work here. It’s our creation.” Vashek Horacek, Shop Assistant Vashek wears: Organic hoodie by Carhartt

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“Being independent means the freedom to make the coffee I like, when I like.� Lee Hollingworth, Owner Lee wears: Sweat by Finisterre

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Vinz Mr Jago Will Barras C.R. Stecyk Persepolis Cheryl Dunn Sebastian Tellier plus... Love, Love, Love

(a heart-wrenching short story by Cyrus Shahrad – read it and weep!) 117


GO , AHEAD TAKE A PEEK Spacejunk galleries want to show you something private. The silent pull of artist at work permeates the air. It draws you in, that stench of creativity being rapidly unleashed. So you stand and you gawp at every stroke of paint, every thoughtful mark. Art, they say, can expand the mind. But watching it unfold can blow it wide apart. The live painting taking place before our eyes is courtesy of Spacejunk, a French-based gallery dedicated to ‘boardsports’ culture. With art centres in Grenoble, Bayonne and Bourg-SaintMaurice, founder Jérome Catz is a man on a mission. Since 2003, his raison d’etre has been to showcase the private work of artists strapped into the world of surf, skate and snow. “It’s important to show how talented these artists are, and to promote them as ‘proper’ artists,” says Jérome. “If you’re just known for your commercial work (even if the products respect your original artwork – which is pretty rare), the artist will be identified as a graphic designer and nothing more. Some great artists get most of their work used commercially, and they don’t have the time or energy to produce work just for themselves – so they are not artists anymore.” The guys here today, however, are artists of the purest kind. They’re standing in commercial city (it’s ISPO 2008, the mother of all tradeshows, and every brand is here ready to see and be seen), yet what they’re throwing on these canvases is coming straight from the heart.

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England’s Will Barras and Mr Jago are putting the finishing touches to a collaborative piece. France’s Vinz, Nikodem and Nicolas Thomas are still getting started. The result? A collection of artwork that’s totally commerce-free. But art for art’s sake does not the bills pay. Fully aware of this fact, Jérome has landed some credible commissions from top brands for his talented compadres. “He hooked us up with Rossignol, and did it in such a way that there was no interference from the brand.” says Will. “When big brands get hold of something creative, the soul kind of goes out of it – you just have to navigate your way through all of that. It’s the same thing with snowboarding, like it’s so bad for the environment. If you create a poison you need to create the antidote. That’s where Spacejunk comes in.” So what exactly is the endgame of all this hard work? “I can see Jérome’s vision of showing our private work to the world,” adds Mr Jago. “They’ve had the website translated into five different languages, including Russian – that’s quite forward thinking. He’s got a very clear plan in his head, and is very driven. So that’s always good, isn’t it? Somebody pushing you in that way.” It is good, very good indeed. Andrea Kurland www.spacejunk.tv For a better look at the live painting in action, check out www.huckmagazine.com.


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MR. JAGO. PHOTO: LUKE ATKINSON.


S M U B L A SeBaStien tellier

Sexuality, Lucky Number

live, Frenchman Sebastien tellier licks women’s feet, smokes cigarettes through his nose and pretends he’s a bird. it’s funny once. in the studio, he’s meticulous and professional – dedicated to songcraft and sound. So it proved with his signature track to date, ‘la ritournelle’ from his last album Politics – a song so powerful one reviewer had to pull over to the side of the road and weep when he first heard it. much of his new album, Sexuality, also combines ecstasy with sadness – but there are differences. Politics was about space and discovery; Sexuality is about, well, sex. there is much heavy breathing and you remember Serge gainsbourg throughout, with some obvious additions: this record was produced by Daft punk’s guy manuel de homem-christo. Both clearly adore pop and take pride in layering music so it has depth and a clean sheen. a classy, clever and funny album. Beginners think of a wild classical pianist giving one to a girl that’s way too young for him. his eyes are closed, and he’s dreaming of michael jackson. phil heBBlethwaite

Beach houSe

Devotion, Bella Union The second album from this Baltimore duo pushes a sweet, West Coast sound that makes you think of Brian Wilson, but also Macca and Mazzy. These are songs for dreamers and weavers and they’re largely very good. One thing, though: variety of pace is badly lacking. You’ve slipped off the sofa by the album’s close. Good or bad thing? depends on what you had for dinner. ph

Black FranciS

Svn Fngrs, Cooking Vinyl Since Frank Black reinvented himself as Black Francis he’s been on fire. last year’s Bluefinger was great and this quickly cut new mini album is solid too. Sees him going for more of those almost Chili Peppers-like shouty songs coupled with some lowriding rollers. A further message to the Pixies, who won’t record with him, that he’s still got the rock. ph

Dj craZe

Fabric Live 38, Fabric The Fabric live series is a bit hit and miss, but we have ourselves a winner here. The two Cool Kids tracks are especially, er, d-d-d-dope. Other contributions come from Bmore stalwarts Bangers and Cash (Spank and Benny) and dJ Blaqstarr. Just for the fun of it, the Miami Vice theme gets a look in too, prolly because Craze is a local. Pumping. ph

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DoeS it oFFenD you, yeah?

You Have No Idea What You’re Getting Yourself Into, Virgin Having seen this lot of nu ravers live a couple of times, I found myself preparing the obvious puns for this review. But their debut finishes and you wish it was offensive. It’s not – it’s plain. Single ‘We Are rockstars’ works, and so do exactly two other tracks. do We Sound Ordinary, Yeah? etc. ph

guilty SimpSon

Ode To The Ghetto, Stones Throw Sloppy, lazy, boring and a total flop of a hip hop record from a man who comes across all tough but isn’t. And a strange one for Stones Throw to put out because they’re normally on the money. He’s from detroit and he’s giving it some of that semi-ragga, pop pop pop flavour, to little effect. rocks fashionable Bollywood strings, but Britney did that on ‘Toxic’. ph

hot chip

Made In The Dark, EMI An album of ambition that is largely executed well. It ought to announce Hot Chip as leaders of the bazillion other eighties revival electro pop bands, but doesn’t. Singer Alex is too annoying and you realise quickly this is pretentious ‘pop as art’ that, ultimately, sounds dickless and hollow. If they wrote songs from their cocks as well as their heads, they might be onto something. ph

pete molinari

A Virtual Landslide, Damaged Goods Molinari’s first lP was a very Greenwich Village-like and very good singer-songwriter album. This next effort finds Pete playing with a band and vastly broadening his musical palette. It’s a huge success. Molinari has the songs, a great ear for a cover, the voice, the sound, and now he proves he can swing like a motherfucker. A proper soulful gem. ph

we are ScientiStS

Brain Thrust Mastery, Virgin Track one: “We all recognise that I’m the problem.” no shit. Second song: “I realise that I’m naturally inclined to go and let you down.” Wow, they’re writing their own review. But it’s impossible to be let down by We Are Scientists because they were never any good in the first place. For the record, they’re trying to write stadium songs here. Cleaner, poppier, still kinda rubbish. ph

young kniveS

Superabundance, Transgressive The Young Knives debut had oodles of wit and class but not enough punch. Album two solves the problem. It’s bigger, beefier, shinier, but not some sell-out going for the gold crap. The sharp observational lyrics remain and the humour is perhaps even darker. Good, very english stuff. Ought to turn them into an institution. ph

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MOVIES Funny gameS

Director: Michael Haneke

By retracing his steps through this story of a violent home invasion, michael haneke has produced a provocative meditation on nihilism, cruelty and our bourgeois expectations of cinema. there is method in his madness, but no reason, no answers behind the actions of peter and paul who spend a terrifying twenty-four hours systematically dehumanising a young, affluent family. there is only outrage, anger and the persistent, nagging nuances of haneke’s genius for taking cinema to places that other artists daren’t dream. matt BochenSki

i’m a cyBorg

Director: Park Chan-wook I’m A Cyborg is the story of a ‘cyborg’, Young-goon (lim Su-jeong), who communicates with a coffee machine in the insane asylum to which her family have had her committed, where she potters around having an Amélie-like influence on the other inmates. It’s all very whimsical and cute, but underscored with a bravura technical control – like the love child of david Fincher and Michel Gondry. But then, just when you’re wondering if Park has gone soft, he stages a scene of hilarious mass murder, and all is well with the world. mB

perSepoliS

Directors: Marjane Satrapi, Vincent Paronnaud Traditional animation has been put through the ringer in recent years. Wisdom has it that audiences have been entranced by computer graphics and don’t care for the hand-drawn artistry of yesteryear. But here comes Marjane Satrapi to prove what a lot of old shit that is. Persepolis is a 2d, hand-drawn, black-and-white animation brimful of passion, craft and wonder. Based on her own graphic novels, it’s the superbly evocative story of ‘Marji’ through whose eyes we watch the Iranian revolution of 1979 disintegrate into the repression of an Islamic republic. Intelligent and instructive, Persepolis embarrasses the notion – so deep rooted in the West – that animation belongs to the ghetto of family entertainment. mB

Son oF ramBow

Director: Garth Jennings Former promo director Garth Jennings made a splash at Sundance in 2006 when he sold Son of Rambow for major dollars. That, however, placed the heavy burden of hype on the shoulders of what turns out to be a slender film. It is, at heart, a wonderfully eccentric film about two boys from the opposite sides of the tracks who come together to celebrate their love of Rambo: First Blood in the wasteland of eighties suburban england. employing explosive flights of fantasy and a keen line in nostalgia, Jennings has a classic kids’ film at his feet, which he then blows with an ill-conceived subplot involving a French exchange student that takes the focus off his two leads for too long. It’s a real shame. mB

122 www.HUCKmagazine.com



S D V D

paranoiD park

Director: Gus Van Sant

why is it that fifty-six-year-old gus van Sant can ride the elusive swell of teenage angst when other more youthful directors wipe out? whatever the reason, Paranoid Park is another evocative deconstruction of the anomie eating at the heart of america’s doomed youth. he follows skater alex (gabe nevins) whose disaffected boredom is aped by van Sant’s artlessly drifting camera as it follows him on a fateful visit to portland skate den paranoid park, and the violent repercussions of a single, stupid mistake. like alex, van Sant’s film is fragile, layered and innocently beautiful. matt BochenSki

Stanley kuBrick Special eDition BoX Set Director: Stanley Kubrick

Christmas has come early (or is that late?) for movie lovers as Stanley Kubrick finally gets the treatment his films deserve. This collection comprises some of the most influential films of all time, as well as the less inspired Eyes Wide Shut. 2001, A Clockwork Orange, The Shining and Full Metal Jacket are all present and correct with shiny new prints and an assortment of extras that are quite simply unmissable for anybody who cares about this moving image malarkey. mB

Silent light

Director: Carlos Reygadas Aspiring to the level of spiritual revelation, Carlos reygadas’ Silent Light is quite literally awe-inspiring. Set in the Mennonite community of northern Mexico, the film is a simple fable of an adulterous farmer whose subtext embraces such weighty issues as the nature of love, betrayal and sacrifice. What really elevates it, however, is reygadas’ astonishing command of the medium, using framing, focus and a still, still camera to evoke what feels at times like a whole new language. Some might find the opening and closing shots a bit pompous; others will be too busy peering through the tears. mB

the aSSaSSination oF jeSSe jameS By the cowarD roBert ForD Director: Andrew Dominik

dVd is as good a time as any to reappraise Andrew dominik’s pseudo-philosophical western. Is it meditative, or just poorly paced? Are its characters opaque and introspective, or simply under sketched? Is roger deakin’s photography Oscar worthy, or faintly familiar? After coming through a tortuous production period, perhaps we should just be glad that Jesse James made it to the screen at all, but, really, the battle scars it collected on the way are all too evident. It’s a choppy, inconsistent, irresolute movie, albeit with two decent ‘movie star’ turns by Brad Pitt and Casey Affleck in the title roles. mB

124 www.HUCKmagazine.com



GAMES

Bully: ScholarShip eDition ***** Xbox 360, Wii

taking you back to the days of wedgies, bundles and smoking behind the bike sheds, Bully lets you play as fifteen-year-old jimmy hopkins surviving his first year at Bulworth academy. the mission-style gameplay sees you pulling pranks on teachers, giving jocks a good kicking and even playing dodgeball – all the while acquiring new skills and unlocking all sorts of treats. as it is school, you must go to class, on time, and lessons follow in the form of button-tapping mini-games which are both entertaining and educational! Finely executed with good humour and originality, this is a real gem. just watch out for the prefects in the showers. eD anDrewS

wii Fit **** Wii

Fuck the gym, nintendo have just gone one better. using a balance board to monitor your movements, all manner of exercises are covered to get you into shape including aerobics, yoga, football, jogging and yes, snowboarding! By monitoring your body mass index and posture, it plots your progress and will have you looking like a Greek God or Amazonian beauty in no time at all. Well, maybe not, but at least it will get your fat arse off the sofa. eD a

aSteriX at the olympic gameS *** DS, Wii, PC, PS2

By Toutatis! Our favourite heroic Gaul takes on all manner of national stereotypes at the bankrupting, glorified sports day that is the Olympic Games. despite being a shameless tie-in with the forthcoming movie, you can’t fault the charm of this French national institution as you tackle puzzles, hoards of roman legionaries and, of course, a plethora of athletic mini games including chariot racing, tug-of-war and javelin throwing. Take some magic potion and enjoy. eD a

conDemneD 2: BlooDShot **** PS3, Xbox 360

If your bed sheets weren’t dirty enough, this will give you a whole new set of nightmares. resuming the role of detective ethan Thomas from the first Condemned but now a hallucinating, drunken hobo, you investigate your former partner’s disappearance and get into fist fights with various freaks and psychos along the way, utilising everything from lead pipes to toilets to dispose of your aggressors. The first-person view is genuinely scary with frights lurking behind every corner, packed with enough gore and violence to keep even George A. romero happy. eD a

126 www.HUCKmagazine.com


GifYc\d1 K_\ :Xc`]fie`X :fe[fi `j ^f`e^ \ok`eZk% Jfclk`fe1 K_\ :Xc`]fie`X :fe[fi j_flc[ _Xm\ dfi\ j\o% This may strike the rest of the animal kingdom as a no-brainer, but it’s going to take a little more than encouraged fornication to save endangered species from the brink of extinction. While the problems facing our planet are great, the power we hold as humans to reverse them is even more so. Part of the solution is for companies to use their financial clout to protect our natural resources. 1% For The Planet is a growing alliance of businesses around the world that become part of the solution by pledging

one percent of their sales to nonprofit organizations that support the environment. Becoming a member of 1% For The Planet promises that your company is making a positive impact on the planet where we do business. Supporting members of 1% means that the purchases you make are changing the world we live in. For a complete list of member-companies you can support, or to find out more about how your company can keep Earth in business, visit onepercentfortheplanet.org.


S K BOO

the norwegian way

Jorn Tomter, Generation Yacht

the displaced artist often captures his homeland with sharper eyes than those stuck in the province. examples in literature abound: joyce, kundera, garcia marquez. and now we have norway’s jorn tomter, a london-based photographer who spent five years clicking the familiar as it became strange, stranger and sometimes downright odd. packed with hundreds of images, tomter’s The Norwegian Way documents the ‘russ’, a three-week-long party attended by most eighteen-year-olds in norway to celebrate the end of high school. a photographic tribute to freedom, friendship and casual sex, book highlights include teens swimming naked in the fjords, plenty of drinking, the odd breast shot and a selection of stunning images that document the captivating glory of youth. as they board their pimped-up cars, vans and buses and simply drive, without purpose or destination, norway’s teens embark on a journey for the sake of journeying, marking the end of something and the beginning of something new. an inspired idea, you’ll agree. now with some inspired photos to go with it. vince meDeiroS www.thenorwegianway.net

Bunker SpreckelS: SurFing’S Divine prince oF DecaDence

Art Brewer and C.R. Stecyk III, Taschen

When Californian Adolph ‘Bunker’ Spreckels came into a massive inheritance, he went on an infamous binge of surfing, skateboarding and hedonism before his death in 1976. An able surfer who shunned contests, Spreckels worked with some of the era’s best shapers, producing enough glorious surfing vessels to secure his mostly unheralded contribution to performance and board design. This book consists of a long interview with Stecyk just before Spreckels’ drug overdose at twenty-seven and is illustrated with classic action shots and candid portraits by the perennial Art Brewer, who was for a time Bunker’s long-suffering personal photographer. An excellent insight into the short life and ego of a man who was both a surfing pioneer and the sport’s original Hollywood rock star. mileS maSterSon

Some kinDa vocation Cheryl Dunn, Picturebox

While the rest of us float around in a desensitised daze – accepting everything, questioning nothing, never looking at anything twice – photographer-filmmaker Cheryl dunn is spotting initiative where others see a dud: the homeless drunk (romantic dreamer); the stoner kid (political activist); the illiterate son of an alcoholic (established artist). This collection of photos is a voyeuristic peek into her love affair with the street, and her earlier courtship with art and its process. A staple of the Beautiful losers collective, dunn has been shooting artists like Barry McGee and Margaret Kilgallen for years. With an accompanying dVd, Creative Life Store, dunn’s latest offering is testament to what can happen when you look beyond the norm. anDrea kurlanD

128 www.HUCKmagazine.com



A SHORT STORY BY

CYRUS SHAHRAD ’m supposed to be thinking about global warming, but right now all I’m seeing is her reflection in the fulllength mirror, standing in her underwear and hooking a pair of earrings on for work, smiling back at me as I bury myself further beneath her covers. I’m supposed to be thinking about rainforests, but instead I’m recalling the time we crawled breathlessly back onto the stone shelf of a Sussex beach after an ill-advised September swim; how I gave her my jumper and she repaid me by blowing warm air against the back of my neck. The way her mum used to do when they were kids, she said. I’m supposed to be pondering the plight of polar bears, or whales, or coral reefs, but instead I’m remembering her hair up and her hair down, a tiny bump on the uppermost ridge of her right ear. The way history misses a heartbeat when we find each other half sleeping in the night and curl up together, a pair of airtight commas with limbs overlapping. I’m supposed to be ruminating on receding snowlines and shrinking winters. But right now I’m thinking about that last glimpse of her over my shoulder as she closed the front door in her dressing gown, tears in her eyes and hair still wet from the bath.

130 www.HUCKmagazine.com

I’m supposed to be thinking about energy-saving light bulbs and electric cars, about coal reserves and carbon footprints. But instead I’m replaying those last days we spent together, looking for signs in the meals that we shared, the emails we exchanged – anything to tell me how long ago she made up her mind. How long I was Fortune’s fool, stumbling blindly into the unravelling of the only thing that might have saved me. The stray curl that I tuck behind her ear to no avail. The way she mumbles goodnight on the border of sleep. I’m supposed to be thinking about tidal waves and hurricanes, about ice crawling in from the poles and returning the earth to a frozen wasteland. And right now there’s nothing I want more than for this whole pointless world to be washed away. For entire cities to be lifted and spun and dumped upside down in the middle of blown deserts and rolling oceans. For glaciers to creep in and put an end to this misery. To encase me in a dreamless sleep while the stars turn a thousand years in the unblinking blackness overhead. Until the ice begins to melt and the rivers run and the flowers bloom, and I wake and walk out into the world once more. Maybe by then I’ll have the good sense not to squander the most important natural resource of all.




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