STOKE STOKE Magazine
STOKE MAGAZINE — ISSUE 03 // OCT 2025
• From Chairlift Dreams to a Vodka Empire
The (Gypsy) Vodka story — twin brothers Mike and Adam take a vision from the slopes and build it into one of Michigan’s fastest-growing spirit brands.
• Anchored in Community
Scot Graden and Walloon Central Marine — a look at the boats, business, and the heartbeat of a lakeside town tied together by water.
• The Soundtrack of Life
A sit-down with musician and producer Roger Tallman, whose career has spanned genres, generations, and a lifelong dedication to sound.
• Dirt Rising: Michigan’s Mountain Bike Boom
From grassroots trail builders to major resorts, mountain biking in Michigan is exploding — and redefining how we ride the Mitten.
• Welcome to the Pigpen: Art in Motion
A conversation with Mary Bea and Greg of Mary Bea Art, blending the grit of the Pigpen crew with a painter’s vision, community, and movement.
• Lorenzo’s Journey: Chapters 2, 3 & 4
Vince Borbolla continues his grandfather’s immigrant tale — weaving heritage, grit, and Detroit’s working-class roots into a living story.
GYPSY VODKA STORY
FROM CHAIRLIFT DREAMS TO A VODKA
EMPIRE: A
CONVERSATION
WITH GYPSY VODKA
Ten years ago, I photographed the Kazanowski twins when they were just kicking off their idea Back then, it was a dream fueled by skiing, van life, and late-night hustle. Today, Mike and Adam have built Gypsy Vodka into a household name in Michigan, with Gypsy Farms standing as one of the most unique distillery/event spaces in the state. I sat down with them in Petoskey to talk about how it all started, where it’s going, and what keeps them stoked
STOKE: For people who might not know the whole story, where did it all begin?
Mike: We grew up downstate Beverly Hills went to Brother Rice, then Michigan State But since we were kids, we came north Our family shared a condo in Petoskey with our aunt and uncle We got the short end of the stick winters instead of summers but that’s where we fell in love with skiing
Adam: Those trips became everything By senior year of high school, our parents let us come up on our own We’d ski Friday nights, all day Saturday, Sunday mornings before heading back We made a core group of friends up here, and that connection stuck
STOKE: After college you had more “traditional” careers lined up, right?
Adam: Yeah, I was supposed to go into real estate development in New York. Mike was headed for med school.
Mike: Instead, we moved to Colorado with some ski buddies We were living six to ten guys deep in a loft, skiing every day On a chairlift one day, I met a guy who owned a distillery His life hit me he skied on weekdays, ran his brand on weekends That sparked the idea
STOKE: So the passion wasn’t distilling at first it was lifestyle?
Adam: Exactly At first it was about freedom being ski bums but also building something sustainable
Mike: We were 23, young, naïve We thought, this is going to be easy We had no idea how much work it would actually take But once we started learning the craft, the passion for making spirits came alive
STOKE: Let’s talk about growth. I remember photographing you guys at the start the tiny tasting room, early branding. Now you ’ ve got Gypsy Farms How did that happen?
Adam: It’s been a ride We’ve opened tasting rooms downtown, a spot in Traverse City, a rum bar on Mackinac Island But the farm is our crown jewel
Mike: Gypsy Farms used to be an equestrian center in Bay Harbor For years it was this mysterious building we’d drive by When we finally walked inside, it hit us this is it A distillery, a cocktail garden, 23 acres to grow into
Adam: We wanted more than a distillery We wanted a community hub weddings, concerts, farmers markets, food truck festivals A place for people to come together
STOKE: And weddings have become a big part of it?
Mike: Huge. We did 16 this year, and we ’ re pushing for more, especially winter weddings. People don’t realize how stunning Northern Michigan is in the snow. Blue skies, fresh snow it feels like Colorado
STOKE: That speaks to how community-focused you guys are.
Mike: From day one it’s been about people Employees become friends, friends become family
Adam: The community supported us, so we ’ ve always tried to give back
STOKE: You’ve also helped launch chefs out of your kitchens.
Adam: Right. We knew we needed food but didn’t want to run restaurants ourselves. So we opened our kitchen to young chefs no rent, just mentorship Josh from Fret Coast Sliders started with us Others came through and now have catering companies, food trucks, even multiple locations Watching them grow has been one of the best parts
STOKE: You’ve got big things coming at the Conservatory Tell me about that
Adam: We’re turning it into a music and event space Weddings, yes, but also concerts, farmers markets, maybe even boat shows We’ve already got a mobile stage The vision is simple: bring people together
Mike: Our second year of doing festivals is coming up Three bands, food trucks, family-friendly We’ve even got national acts lined up, like Maggie Baugh, who tours with Keith Urban We want to keep it affordable ten bucks, bring a blanket, watch the sunset, hear some music.
STOKE: Product-wise, what’s next?
Mike: We’re launching “Night Cap,” a CBN and magnesium drink for better sleep We’re also exploring functional beverages light, healthy drinks with vitamins and purpose Alcohol is changing; people want more out of what they drink
STOKE: Looking back, what’s been your favorite part?
Adam: The journey. The people. Our team feels like family, and that’s what makes it all worth it.
Mike: We don’t know exactly where this ends up, but we love the ride That’s the essence of Gypsy
STOKE: That’s the story right there. Ten years ago, I photographed you guys when this was just a dream Today, Gypsy Vodka is more than spirits it’s Northern Michigan stoke in a bottle
Mike & Adam: Cheers to that
ANCHORED IN COMMUNITY: SCOT GRADEN & WALLOON
CENTRAL MARINE
Your paragraph text
When you meet Scot Graden, you realize quickly he’s not just running a marina he’s building a way of life
The former superintendent who traded meetings for marinas has poured himself into Walloon Central Marine, reshaping it into a community anchor on one of Michigan’s most legendary lakes His story is one of hard work, family, and respect for the water that defines northern Michigan
Stoke: You didn’t grow up around boats. How did you end up here?
Scot: I grew up on a dairy farm outside Ann Arbor We worked hard, but boating wasn’t part of that world Later, I went to Central Michigan University, studied parks and recreation, always wanted to be outdoors But my first career ended up being in education I spent 26 years with Saline schools 13 of those as superintendent
“Running a marina is a lot like farming.”
When I retired, I wanted something more active Less sitting in meetings, more work I could feel That’s when Walloon Central Marine came into the picture
“In the spring, we plant boats in the lake. In summer, we fix what breaks. In the fall, we harvest everything back out. Winter is planning season. That cycle gives me a quality of life that’s intense at times, but rewarding.” – Scot Graden
Family First
Stoke: Your son Adrian plays a big role in the marina now
Scot: Yeah, when I first bought the place, Adrian came up to help while finishing his degree at Michigan State He embraced it, left for a while, then came back. Now he’s all in. My nephew’s also joined us. Watching family put down roots here has been incredible. It’s not just a job it’s a lifestyle.
Protecting What Makes Michigan Special
Stoke: You’ve traveled a lot What makes Michigan stand out?
Scot: Gratitude Michigan has it all four seasons, endless water, winter recreation The challenge is balancing growth with protecting what we have
We support the Tip of the Mitt Watershed Council, Walloon Lake Association, Charlevoix Lake Association. We’ve got to be stewards of the water. Without it, this region doesn’t work.
Boat Rentals Done Right
Walloon Central’s pontoon rentals aren’t just a side hustle They’re an invitation “If we can get someone on Walloon once, they’ll come back,” Scot says Rentals give newcomers a memory that hooks them on northern Michigan for life.
The Challenges
The biggest hurdle? Seasonality
• Eight to ten weeks of heavy labor in spring
• Another rush in the fall
• Slower midsummer and winter stretches
To fill the gaps, Walloon Central handles snow plowing, dock building, winter boat repair, and constant training. “Boats are only getting more technical,” Scot says. “If we don’t stay sharp, we fall behind.”
Walloon Central Marine isn’t trying to be the biggest game in town it’s trying to be the right one Scot Graden’s taken a property that used to flip every couple years and turned it into a steady anchor on Walloon He’s invested in the land, built barns, put boats back in the water, and made sure his crew has work that matters The future? More of the same sustainable growth, a business that listens to its people, and a lake-first mindset that protects what makes northern Michigan magic For Scot, success isn’t measured in numbers it’s in community, in trust, and in knowing that when folks roll up to Walloon Central, they’re in good hands
ROGER TALLMAN
THE SOUNDTRACK OF A LIFE: AN INTERVIEW WITH ROGER TALLMAN
BY PHILIP HUTCHINSON
Philip: Roger, thanks for sitting down with me today. I like to keep these conversations natural and just let the story flow. Tell me about your journey where it all began and how music became your life
Roger Tallman: I grew up surrounded by music Both of my parents were music professors and choir directors, so our family time was different from most After school or on weekends, my two sisters and I would gather around the piano Instead of TV or video games which didn’t exist yet we’d sight-read music together It was like learning another language
By the time I was 11 or 12, I could pick up a piece of sheet music, hit the first chord, and just sing what was on the page People at church started noticing, and soon I was asked to do solos Then, someone would ask my mom and me to perform at parties or events This was the 1950s home entertainment was live music
My mom actually came from a family orchestra in Nebraska called The Brown Family Orchestra. They played the state fair every year and got hired for weddings and other events. It wasn’t unusual for me to grow up in that kind of environment.
From Choir Kid to Motown
Philip: That sounds like an amazing foundation. How did you go from church performances to the professional music world?
Roger:
One Sunday, a producer named Harry Balk heard me sing He asked if I could read music and if I had friends who could do the same I said, “Yeah, my whole choir reads music”
Harry explained that at Motown, they were spending hours teaching kids from the street to sing background “doo-wops” and harmonies He invited me and four friends to audition We went down there and nailed three songs in 20 minutes
Berry Gordy himself was in the studio and said, “Get those white kids in here every Thursday” From then on, every Thursday of high school, we went to Hitsville US A to record backgrounds
We didn’t even know who we were singing for Sometimes they’d mention names like The Temptations or Smokey Robinson, but I was just a kid from Detroit Then, months later, I’d hear my voice on the radio and think, “Holy shit that’s me!”
We got paid five dollars a song, and I got ten because I was the leader In 1962, that was serious money gas was only 27 cents a gallon. That’s when I realized music could be more than just a passion.
Photo Emily Velchansky
Breaking Into the Jingle Business
STOKE: So you were singing at Motown while still in high school What came next?
Roger:
I started doing any gig I could weddings, parties, church events. Then I got a call from Artie Fields, a legendary jingle writer in Detroit. He wrote every major car commercial at the time.
Artie asked me to audition and then offered me a deal:
“Work as my sales guy one day a week, and I’ll put you on every jingle we do”
The first jingle I sang for him was an Oldsmobile spot My check came in and it was for ten thousand dollars I thought it was a mistake and called Artie He just laughed and said, “Nope, that’s right You’ll probably see two or three more like that”
That was life-changing money for a kid just starting college
Striking Out on His Own
STOKE: That must have been huge But I know you didn’t stay with Artie forever
Roger:
No, I didn’t I eventually got an opportunity to write a jingle myself for a Detroit bank When I told Artie, he said, “Tallman, only I write jingles in Detroit You just sing on them”
So, naturally, I went out and did it anyway. I hired a band under a fake name, recorded the music, and delivered the jingle. It was a hit. When Artie found out, he fired me on the spot.
My buddy and I decided to start our own music company He was a fantastic salesman and cut deals with big Detroit retailers like Hughes & Hatcher Our first year, we made nearly $250,000 and had closets full of free clothes thanks to our partial trade deals
“I’m not an agency, I’m a creative resource.”
Hollywood Calling
STOKE: That’s incredible. How did you end up in Hollywood?
Roger:
My sisters were working in TV out in L A After college, they convinced me to come out and try it before settling into a “real job”
I landed a gig singing on The Julie Andrews Hour It was supposed to be a summer job, but then I got offered a spot on The Carol Burnett Show That turned into an eight-and-a-half-year run
While working on Burnett, I kept writing jingles for Detroit clients on the side Many of the Motown musicians like James Jamerson, Andrew Smith, and Dennis Coffey had moved to L A , so I’d hire them for my sessions
It was a dream team: the same guys who played on hits like “My Girl” were now playing on my jingles.
Super Bowl Glory and NBC Sports
STOKE You also made a huge mark in sports music.
Roger:
Yeah, that started with a demo I did for Super Bowl XVII in 1983 At the time, sports themes were strictly symphonic
I mixed a rock rhythm section into the orchestra guitars, saxophones, big drums The NBC producers heard it and said, “That’s not a demo That’s our theme”
For the next 14 years, I wrote most of the music for NBC Sports, including themes for events like Monday Night Raw for WWE and Baseball Tonight for ESPN
When ESPN was just starting out, they paid me $85,000 to write their baseball theme A year later, Major League Baseball gave them 200 games to air, and my royalties went through the roof.
Building a Business
STOKE: You weren’t just a composer you built companies.
Roger:
Right I eventually opened my own studio, which Sony later bought to produce artists like Alicia Keys
Later, I shifted into directing commercials, starting with clients like Little River Casino For 13 years, I worked with them and eventually with tribal clients across the country
I always told people, “I’m not an agency, I’m a creative resource ” But in their eyes, I became both
Life Today
STOKE: After such a massive career, what does life look like now?
Roger:
These days, I take on a few local accounts, some passion projects, and a bit of pro bono work
Mostly, I enjoy life with my wife traveling, going to great restaurants like Spring & Porter, spending time with friends I’ve been incredibly fortunate Music took me places I never could’ve imagined
STOKE: Roger, this has been amazing Your story isn’t just about music it’s about chasing opportunities, taking risks, and creating something lasting
Roger: Exactly. And through it all, I’ve just tried to keep the joy of creating alive. That’s what matters most.
Dirt Rising: Michigan’s Mountain Bike Boom
BY STOKE MAGAZINE
For years, Michigan mountain biking meant crosscountry miles, quiet singletrack, and weekend grinders. Copper Harbor held the spotlight for gravity, Glacial Hills was the XC crown jewel, and Avalanche was the local grind But something’s shifted The Mitten is starting to look like a fullblown mountain bike state one with legit downhill, thriving trail communities, and a calendar that rivals anywhere in the Midwest
“Last year was the real moment,” says Michigan rider Jeff Frazier “Three-hundred-plus people lined up on opening day at Boyne Highlands Lift lines at a Michigan bike park? That’s when it felt like downhill had really arrived here”
THE GRAVITY PUSH
Downhill used to mean a road trip west Now you can stay in Michigan Boyne Highlands has emerged as a true downhill park, with lift-served DH lines, machine-groomed flow, rentals, and a new shop dedicated to gravity gear full-face helmets, pads, jerseys It’s the only park of its kind in the state, and it’s drawing riders from as far as Texas and California
But Highlands is just one node in a growing network Boyne Mountain offers quieter downcountry terrain. School Forest in Boyne City is cutting new downhill lines. Avalanche is still grinding out miles. Glacial Hills remains one of the best XC networks in the Midwest. Together, they’re reshaping the way Michigan rides.
“DOWNHILL IS STILL YOUNG IN MICHIGAN,” FRASER SAYS. “BUT THE GROWTH IS INSANE. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING”
“IN WINTER YOU’RE CARVING SNOW. IN SUMMER YOU’RE CARVING DIRT. SAME STOKE, SAME WOODS JUST A DIFFERENT TOOL UNDER YOUR FEET.”
A SCENE THAT WELCOMES EVERYONE
What sets Michigan apart isn’t just the trails it’s the people
From Taco Tuesday rides at Boyne School Forest to women ’ s clinics and kids’ camps at Highlands, the scene is as inclusive as it gets “It’s fifty-fifty men and women out there now, ” Fraser says “Families bring kids Everyone wants you in That’s how you grow a culture”
Festivals and Flow
Bike culture here isn’t just about the rides it’s about the gathering
• Opening Day at Highlands feels like a festival: lifts spinning, shops giving away gear, trail associations and local brands in the mix
• The Highlands Harvest Festival each October closes out the season with costumes, cider, donuts, tailgates, and peak fall color
• Community rides like Taco Tuesday at School Forest keep the vibe going all summer long
Add Copper Harbor’s long-running national reputation, plus expanding trail systems across the state, and Michigan now offers a full-season riding calendar with no shortage of stoke.
Michigan’s ski towns are doubling down on bikes Resorts that once lived and died by snow are now carving trails into their slopes, building a true fourseason lifestyle The crossover is real:
• Riders who bomb groomers in January are ripping dirt in July.
• The same lifts that move skiers haul bikes to the top.
• Resorts are opening bike shops, clinics, and festivals to keep the stoke alive year-round
The result? A state once known for lake life and skiing now has a new identity: a place where you can chase adrenaline twelve months a year
Michigan’s MTB scene isn’t just about lines and lifts it’s about how people ride together
• Parking lot tailgates: Riders grilling hot dogs and cracking beers post-ride is as Michigan as it gets
• DIY trail crews: Local associations and volunteers cut, clear, and shape dirt every week
• Events with flavor: From costume rides in October to taco-fueled trail nights, it’s as much about community as it is about speed
• Generations in motion: Kids’ camps are filling up, while parents chase laps on the same trails. The state isn’t just building riders it’s building families of riders.
Quick Ride Guide: Michigan MTB
Downhill/Gravity
• Boyne Highlands (Harbor Springs): Michigan’s only dedicated downhill park Lift-served DH, rentals, gravity gear
• Boyne School Forest (Boyne City): New DH line underway, Taco Tuesday scene
• Copper Harbor (UP): Michigan’s original gravity gem, still nationally known
Cross-Country & Down-Country
• Boyne Mountain (Boyne Falls): 15–20 miles of singletrack, e-bike rentals, quieter vibe
• Glacial Hills (Bellaire): XC perfection
• Avalanche Preserve (Boyne City): Big climb, big flow
• Petoskey/North Country Trails: Endless northern Michigan singletrack
Community & Culture
• Taco Tuesday (Boyne School Forest): Rides + free tacos
• Opening Day at Highlands: Early summer festival
• Highlands Harvest Festival: October season send-off in peak color.
Welcome to the Pig Pen
ART IN MOTION: A CONVERSATION WITH MARY BEA & GREG OF MARY BEA ART
By Philip Hutchinson, Stoke Magazine – The Pigpen Series
There’s a certain electricity in Mary Bea’s Petoskey studio Brushes line the tables, canvases lean against the walls, and splashes of color seem to float in the air It’s a space built for creativity but also for problem-solving one where art is less a product than a way of living Mary Bea, an artist whose work spans from fine art to hand-painted hats, is joined by her husband Greg, who manages the operational side of the business. Together, they’ve built a uniquely Northern Michigan creative enterprise that thrives on collaboration, outdoor inspiration, and a shared belief that art should be accessible to everyone.
Stoke: Your paintings often feel like they’re alive especially your water scenes How do you approach finishing a piece? Do you stay attached to your work?
Mary Bea: Once I finish a painting, I tend to let it go It’s like I’ve moved through whatever I needed to process while making it Sometimes I don’t even appreciate a piece until years later when I stumble on it again and think, “Wow, look at the life this has lived” It’s kind of freeing I want the work to be appreciated by someone else, not just me.
Stoke: Was creativity always part of your life?
Mary Bea: Always
My mom was an artist, and my grandparents were stained-glass artists
They had a studio in their home, and as a kid, I’d play there, working with glass, learning to measure and cut. I think my grandma was hugely influential in how I see things and solve problems Creativity was nurtured from a really young age Honestly, I just never stopped doing what I loved
Stoke: How did the business side of Mary Bea Art develop?
Mary Bea: About three or four years ago, Greg joined me full-time That’s when we really built out the wholesale side prints, note cards, hats, earrings stocking stores all over Northern Michigan Greg: My goal is to free Mary up to paint. Artists start out making art, but to make a living at it you end up spending hours on websites, emails, and logistics I take care of that so she can focus on creating
Stoke: Your handpainted hats have become a signature How did that start?
Mary Bea: Total accident I wanted my art on hats but couldn’t find the right way to print it So I just started painting directly on them I thought I’d do one or two. Now I’ve painted thousands. They’re durable and wearable each one a little artwork you can live in
Stoke: Running a creative business as a couple can’t be easy How do you make it work?
Greg: There’s no blueprint You have to figure it out as you go We’ve grown closer but also learned when we each need space It’s a challenge, but a fun one
Mary Bea: We’re finding ways to do more of what we love like traveling to art fairs in outdoor-focused towns Winning Best in Show at Art in the Park this year and People’s Choice at the Dark for Art fundraiser were little signals from the universe that we ’ re on the right path
Stoke: Your studio feels welcoming Was that intentional?
Mary Bea: Absolutely I want everyone to leave here with something, whether it’s a sticker or an original painting. Art shouldn’t be just for the wealthy. We’ve worked hard to make my work accessible at every price point
Greg: At the same time, we also have clients who are collectors or philanthropists We treat everyone with the same respect and care That’s important to us
Stoke: Do you ever feel like you ’ ve “made it” as an artist?
Mary Bea: (laughs) Not really I still do the math: how long can we survive if we don’t sell another thing? But we ’ ve built layers into the business different revenue streams, consistent income And I’ll do this forever Painting is how I process the world If I go a week without it, I feel off
Stoke: What’s next for Mary Bea Art?
Mary Bea: More art fairs More travel More integration of art with outdoor life We’re dreaming about a decked-out van and trailer so we can camp, bike, and bring our work to towns we love It’s about living the life we want while making art that resonates with people.
LORENZO’S JOURNEY TO DETROIT
BY VINCE BORBOLLA
CHAPTER 2: PARISIAN EXILE
My earliest memories are stitched together with the voice of my mother and the scent of her apron She shielded me from the world’s harshness as best she could, though even then, I sensed the shadows gathering beyond our doorstep My parents faced difficult times My father, once proud and well-positioned, struggled to find footing The only dependable income came from my mother’s tireless work I was still seven barely a boy when fate knocked softly, yet irrevocably, on our door. Her name was Angela, a distant relative from Cabrales. She arrived without fanfare, but her presence carried the weight of something unspoken I cannot say whether her visit had been long planned or hurriedly arranged, but what followed felt like a decision already made That evening, my father told my mother to gather my things “He’s to leave with Angela,” he said “He’ll go to France There, he’ll have schooling and a better chance than we can give him here”
My mother’s silence cracked into tears. She obeyed, but every fold of fabric, every button she fastened, carried grief She did not argue That, I think, hurt more than words ever could
By three o ’clock, I was walking away from the only home I had known, my small bundle of belongings clutched in my arms, Angela’s firm hand guiding me down the road I looked back once My mother stood in the doorway, one hand pressed to her chest She did not wave
Nearly three days later, we arrived at her home in Levallois-Perret, just outside Paris
The city moved with a strange rhythm faster, louder, colder The language was unfamiliar The air, heavy with smoke and industry, choked my sense of belonging
Angela and her husband, Monsieur François, had no children Their world revolved around the tire-repair workshop they ran, nestled behind the house
Within two weeks, François told me I would not be going to school not in the way my father had said “You’ll help me in the shop,” he explained, matter-offact “You’re strong You’ll learn”
And so I did He taught me to vulcanize tires, to mend what others threw away
There was no malice in his instructions, no cruelty only routine and expectation I worked
Before long, more duties followed They owned four great Shire horses, massive creatures with gentle eyes They became my responsibility feeding, grooming, mucking their stalls I began to rise before the sun and collapsed into sleep long after it had set
This, I was told, was my schooling
At first, I wept at night Quietly, so no one would hear But days turned into months, and I hardened By the time I turned eight, I no longer looked for familiar faces in the streets, nor dreamed of my mother’s embrace Angela treated me with a kind of brisk affection, and François came to respect my diligence I learned not to expect more
Years passed
By the time I was eleven, my life was a pattern of grease and hoofbeats I had stopped asking when I might go to school Perhaps I had even stopped hoping
Then, without warning, Rosa arrived
She was Angela’s sister, older and sharper in tone I did not recognize her, nor did she offer much in the way of conversation But I noticed things quiet glances exchanged, whispered discussions behind closed doors. Something stirred. Something about me.
One night, I heard her ask plainly, “Why hasn’t he been sent to school?” The silence that followed chilled me.
Three days after she left, a telegram arrived. I was not allowed to read it, but I knew, from the way Angela’s hands trembled, that it bore my father’s words That evening, she told me to pack
No explanation No goodbyes
Just a single sentence: “You’re going home”
CHAPTER 3: RETURN TO VILLANUEVA
I returned to Spain in the early autumn of 1911, more boy than man, but no longer a child
When I stepped off the train in Unquera, no one waited for me The station was quiet, the air sharp with sea salt and coal smoke. I stood on the platform with my small trunk and looked around uncertain, invisible. After a time, the station chief approached. He asked my name, then paused. “Are you the son of Lorenzo from Villanueva?” he asked.
Hearing my father’s name spoken aloud stirred something in me relief, perhaps, or fear He called over two employees and had them carry my luggage to his office while someone was sent to fetch me
An hour later, a familiar face appeared older, broader but smiling with unmistakable warmth It was my brother, Valeriano He had brought two donkeys with him “It was about time you came home,” he said I hadn’t recognized him at first, but the sound of his voice made the years disappear He hoisted my trunk onto one donkey, and we rode the other together through winding country paths It took an hour and a half to reach our village, but it felt far longer, weighed down as I was by unspoken questions and a gnawing unease
When I stepped through the door of our home, my mother embraced me fiercely. My father stood nearby, his gaze unreadable. They asked questions some soft, some probing but I scarcely understood what they wanted from me. I had grown up in their absence. They, too, had grown older in mine.
It was a Friday We went to church together that Sunday, and by Monday, my real trials began
CHAPTER 4: HARD LESSONS
The first days after my return to Villanueva passed like a dream familiar, yet touched by something colder Faces I had once known greeted me with cautious eyes, and even the walls of my own home seemed smaller, as if time had pressed them inward while I was away
On Sunday, we went to church I sat between my parents in the old pew, the scent of damp stone, candle wax, and incense heavy in the air My mother’s hand found mine and held it gently, her thumb brushing across my knuckles in a quiet reassurance My father knelt stiffly beside us, his prayers whispered low and fierce I closed my eyes and tried to feel as though I belonged again.
But by Monday, the comfort of home gave way to the demands of life.
There was no discussion, no soft easing into my new role. My father called me into the kitchen after the morning meal, his hand resting heavily on the table, his voice leaving no room for doubt.
"You will work by day," he said, "and study by night. A man should have an education if he is to better his lot in life"
And so my days began early, with the first light cresting over the hills I worked wherever I was needed tending to the fields, gathering firewood, hauling stones from riverbeds to mend broken walls The labor was honest but unrelenting, each day carving its mark upon my hands and back
In the evenings, after the last chores had been laid aside and the animals bedded down, I would sit at the kitchen table, a thin candle guttering beside me, and struggle through my lessons alone
There were no tutors, no guiding hand only the stubborn will to learn and the dim hope that knowledge might one day open doors that toil alone could not My mother would sometimes sit nearby, her sewing needle flashing in and out of cloth, her presence a quiet comfort against the deep loneliness of the work. I fought sleep, fought frustration, fought the temptation to lay my head down and surrender to weariness.
Somehow, I learned. Yet even as I gained in knowledge, I began to notice how my father weakened Slowly at first the way a once-strong beam begins to bow before it breaks
His cough deepened, his steps grew heavier, and the quick, sharp voice that had once commanded our small world became softer, more labored.
He no longer joined me in the fields. Some mornings he did not leave his chair by the hearth at all, sitting silent as the fire died down to ash.
One night, when the rains lashed against the windowpanes and the wind howled through the cracks in the stone, my mother woke me from my narrow bed She said no words only pressed a candle into my hand and led me to my father’s side
He was smaller somehow, folded into the great chair that once seemed to fit him better His hand found mine in the wavering light, and his eyes, still fierce beneath the hollowing of his cheeks, fixed on my face
"Be strong," he whispered "The world gives little to those who wait"
And with that, he was gone
The days that followed passed like a bad dream, too slow and too fast all at once We buried him on a hillside overlooking the village, among the ancestors whose names were carved deep into the stones The whole town turned out, their faces drawn, their hats clutched in trembling hands
He had been respected, even admired but in death, as in life, there was no fanfare, only the solemn duty of farewell. Life did not wait for grief.
There were debts to be paid, fields to be tended, food to be earned.
My mother, though broken in her way, stood firm She refused charity, refused pity But she also knew the hard truth we could not make a life here on memories alone Word came from a cousin already settled in Havana, bearing news of work and opportunity for those with strong backs and stronger hearts Fortunes, he said, awaited those willing to labor under the hot sun and the heavier hand of fate
It was decided: I would go
At fifteen years old, I packed my few belongings into a battered trunk a Bible, a change of clothes, a small coin purse and prepared to cross the sea to a land I had never seen, to chase a future no one could promise I kissed my mother goodbye on a gray morning, the mist rising from the fields like ghostly hands
She did not weep She only pressed a medal of the Virgin Mary into my palm and whispered, "Go with God, my son "
I walked down the winding road to Unquera, the hills falling away behind me, the salt wind rising from the unseen sea beyond
Ahead of me lay an ocean
And beyond it, a life not yet lived
MEET THE CREW BEHIND STOKE
We’re not a company we ’ re a crew. A handful of people doing what we love, chasing stories that matter to us, and building something that feels honest.
Philip Hutchinson
Founder, Publisher & Editor-in-Chief
Photographer from Michigan. Founder of Northern Territory Imaging. I started Stoke because I felt like it needed to exist something that captures the energy we live in Snowboarding, motorsports, music, art, adrenaline, and storytelling all under one roof It’s not about trends It’s about people doing real things in a place we care about I’m just doing my best to document it the way it deserves to be seen
Yorg Chief Hype Man & Founder of The Drop
Detroit music promoter and longtime connector Yorg runs The Drop, brings in the voices that matter, and keeps the conversation honest and loud He knows who’s next and who’s real and makes sure they get seen
Taylor Jepsen-Sales
Rider & Creative Contributor
I’ve known Taylor since he was a kid Like a nephew to me He’s the reason I got into snowboarding in the first place Always down to ride, always pushing things forward, and always showing up when it matters
Kenny “The Missile” Forton
Snowboarder & Cultural Vibe Manager
Kenny brings the heat Fast on a board, louder in the lot, and the kind of energy that keeps everything fun even when it’s chaos He’s the vibe guy pure stoke, start to finish
Al King
Creative Contributor & Cultural Guide
Snowboarder, drummer, and co-founder of the Charlevoix Mushroom Tour Al’s got a sixth sense for what’s coming in the snowboard world Nobody’s more tapped in he’s part of the reason the Pigpen even works
Vince Borbolla – Writer & Sales Lead
As the pen behind Lorenzo’s Journey, Vince brings depth and heart to Stoke’s pages, telling stories rooted in heritage and grit Off the page, he leads sales and partnerships, building the connections that keep Stoke thriving Vince is both storyteller and dealmaker fueling the magazine’s voice and future
additional Photo credit Emily Velchansky
The Mission
Stoke is about the people who bring fire to this state whether they’re carving lines in the Keweenaw, dropping sets in packed clubs, tuning rally cars in a pole barn, or sewing art into clothing that carries generations It’s for the ones who move differently and think louder It’s for the creators, the makers, and the brave
A Note on
the Magazine
There’s no formula. Each issue changes shape. Some regulars will be there The Drop, Welcome to the Pigpen but nothing is guaranteed. The stories shift with the season, the inspiration, and the people who show up Stoke is a platform for creatives in the adrenaline and art worlds who are pushing what’s possible and doing it in Michigan
The Bigger Picture
We’re just the core. The truth is, Stoke only happens because of the whole crew around us photographers, riders, creatives, people who give their time and talent because they believe in the vision. We’re all part of the same spine no one ’ s more important than anyone else.
THANKS FOR RIDING WITH US.
STOKE has never been about being polished — it’s about being true. Every issue gets tighter, every story hits harder, because of the people who step up to bring it. Some have already carried the torch, others are just about to. September’s around the corner, and with it, a whole new crew keeping STOKE burning in Michigan.
A LITTLE HINT OF WHATS TO COME.....