It's Dumping!!!

So Salty Days is finally finished and can be found exclusively on the NEW JANKYfilms.com.

The Utah syndicate has been hard at work both fishing the movie and getting ready for this coming season. We don't really want to call it training but we have been on steady regimen of freestyle calisthenics and living room jibbing. Apparently it is easier to do tricks when there are bindings attached to the board, these bindings also appear work best when made out of duck tape.

In addition to our cardio work we have been adhering to a strict diet of pasta surprise, rice surprise, and milkshakes. However, there have been contentious debates as to where the best

shakes can be found. Artic Circle took the top spot early on but the recently discovered Iceberg (two blocks down the road) is drifting towards the top, though it is moving very slowly.

What kind of cream cheese is that? Son, that is rice surprise.

While it is still fall down in the valley, up in the mountains, above 9,000 ft, on north facing slopes, winter is in full swing. We recently went to a secret early season zone known only those with an internet connection and the ability to read. The mission started out with some complications as one of the drivers was not informed that parallel parking would be required but thanks to persistence and complete disregard for oncoming traffic the sixth time was the charm.

We eventually made it up the canyon and began our trek on foot. The main attraction of the zone was the rhythm section which took the better part of a day and four shovels to build... at least that was our best guess because we just brought a broom and swept it off! ZAP!

Without divulging too much let's just say there were death defying stunts that have been documented in video. Tree taps, fire gaps, and crisscrossing trains all went down, it was quite the spectacle.

Because we got to up there so early it was quite cold still and a large hazardous fire needed to be constructed immediately. The closer to the jump line the better, we are really tying to one up the bail segment from Salty Days this year so next to every feature will be placed an alternate adventure.

We are anxiously awaiting falling snow and running lifts. Look for a little preseason edit coming soon, on that same note if you know of any new Biggie remixes send them our way we are looking to start this season off right!

In the meantime here is some High Quality eye-candy from Salty Days.

SL,UT Get it?

Fall in Salt Lake has been good; relaxing, working menial jobs, skiing on dirt with friends, and lots of editing. First and most importantly, we have officially finished Salty Days and it is now viewable on both www.jankyfilms.com and our vimeo account:


And promos:


Crashes!

And our friend Charles Harrington from Union:

And some stoke for this season with Timmy:


And with that, we are finished with this season! It's past time to start looking forward to this coming winter, and things are looking good. We've been doing a lot of planning and work on the side getting things ready for when the snow starts falling, and this year's flick will be our most organized, fun, shred-ful, outspoken and rad-tastic film yet. Can't wait.

The Legend of the Zumex 5000

After years of searching, the rumors and gossip have been confirmed; the Zumex 5000 does exist. It has been hiding in a coffee shop located in the city of Budapest, Hungary. Look at that German engineering, a thing of beauty.

Movement!

A few more good sunsets and longboard rides in Govy and the Janky crew headed back to Salt Lake to prepare for winter.

My white Audio's needed a good grave.   Bye Govy.

On the day of travel it JP and I teamed up as team Legacy (pronounced "Leg-gaaaa-c" --it's French) and Timmy and Hazen worked as team "Looks good, feels good."  After a nice evening in Portland the "look good feel goods" weren't feeling so well and got off to a bit of a late start, necessitating that they take the boring route home.  JP and I rousted ourselves at 6 AM, boasting 3 solid hours of sleep, and drove southeast in Oregon through Salem, Bend, and the desert, down into Nevada and across 80 West to Salt Lake.     

JP wore this cowboy getup on the whole trip.  Once in Southeast Oregon and Nevada he fit in nicely.  I didn't ask any questions.  

Forest fire near Bend.

Volcanic area east of Bend.

There is nothing in Southeast Oregon.  Past the next town was the sign; "No gas, 120 miles." 

No cars either.

Nevada.

Over the 16 hour drive I learned JP is really into government conspiracy theories.  He was convinced this fire resulted from secret government weapons testing.  Whatever, it's Nevada. 

  
We arrived in Salt Lake around 11 PM.  A slight lack of planning left us with no place to sleep indoors.  Sleeping indoors is something I learned is near and dear to JP's heart.  We ended up sleeping outside our cars at the base of Big Cottonwood Canyon.  Here's JP in the morning, Timmy's still napping by the rocks.

As the snow is reaching its yearly lowest level on Mt Hood the seasonal employee with any shred of sense moves on.  This is precisely what separates the core Janky crew from the rest.  We have not made any moves (except for ditching our prime lodging for the much more economical and crowded apartment of JP and Wes).  With the smarter employees abandoning Mt Hood and moving to winter quarters; Hazen, Collin, Conner, Timmy and I have had to pick up the slack with extra shifts at the Timberline dining establishment.  This leaves little time to enjoy the sliver of summer that remains here.  Yet we have had a few moments of solace:

Josh showed Wes, Timmy and I this waterfall and cave selection near Hood River.  

 

JP, a little agitated about the possibility of cougars while shooting a sunset timelapse.  I figured the cougar, smelling a meat, would likely attack JP as he chugged his muscle milk.  My nerves calmed, I managed to safely to stack this shot:

And I did get to go skiing for the last time this summer with Eric.  I caught up with Wiglaf at his car-house in the T-line parking lot.  The man and his machine:

I think my mustache was making wiglaf a bit jealous as he was throwing down these fresh trailing tail corks over MHSSC's last jump of the year:

November 3rd, 2008 to September 2nd, 2009; skiing as much as possible.  Awesome.

Janky Films gets pitted (Brah)

In the beginning of August, the residents of the Janky house that work in the CDR decided that a celebration of Lawdog's birthday at the end of August must be in order. It was decided that a weekend of surfing on the Oregon coast would be most appropriate in distracting the aging members from the inevitable grip of Father Time. Being upstanding employees armed with an east coast work ethic, we requested the weekend of the 21 - 23 off in advance, instead of just no-call-no-showing. Brilliant plan, except that it was requested by nearly half of the breakfast/lunch staff. Hopes were further diminished when Laura (bosslady) told me in person that "it's not going to happen." However, when the schedules for that week came out, lawdog, nerd, Jelly Monster, and I all had a three day weekend. That Thursday was full of "bro, it's my Friday" comments.

When Friday rolled around around we promptly left the house at 2 p.m. to start our gnarly weekend of shredding the Pacific.

Our depature was delayed by the relaization that the sun was in fact out, so all sleeves had to be removed. We also made sure to all have matching shades so that we looked totally sponced bro.

As we drew nearer to the Coast we realized, " Holy shit these trees are fuckin huge!"
Gary rolled into the parking lot of Clean Lines Surf Shop at 5p.m., so much for an early start. The guy working the rentals desk noted the hour and immediately assumed that we were snowboarders from Govy, close enough. Our late start turned out to be advantageous as the shop let us rent the boards until closing time the next day while only charging us for a days rental. We strapped our newly rented and extremely long, soft top boards (we're not beaters I swear) onto Gary and were off to Short Sands Beach.
After divvying up all of the shit to carry we walked a half a mile through the forest to the beach.
Short Sands Beach.
Once there we began suiting up for the fridged waters of the Pacific.
Once we all looked like shark bate, we turned our attention to the waves. They were big, up to 8 feet according to the bros at the surf shop. As we stood looking at a particularly large set roll in, we decided that, "well I guess we just go out there right?" And so we did, for about half an hour. Being the experienced surfers that we were, a combined 10 hours on boogie boarding under our belts, we decided to paddle out directly through the heart on the oncoming sets of waves. Once we finally got past the point where the huge waves were breaking directly on our heads, we were able to rest.

It was now time to figure out this surfing thing. The first step in the process was to sit up on our boards. We all perfected this fairly quickly except for Kenny, who fell repeatedly off of his board, making it impossible to make our crew look somewhat legit in the eyes of the local surfer bros.

As we began trying to catch waves we realized that after a summer of eating shit on the shred glitter of Mt. Hood, there was pretty much zero consequence if you got tossed by the waves. This inspired the confidence to go after any wave, even if it was about to break directly on top of us. Much hilarity ensued. Onlookers got to "check the base graphics" repeatedly.

By the end of our sunset session, we had all stood up on our boards (about 20 feet after the wave had broken). Dead tired, shivering, and extremely stoked, we began to turn our attention toward where to spend the night.

Sunset on the cove.
After asking around we determined that there was no beach patrol so, even though there were "no camping" signs everywhere, no one would actually catch us. We found a large driftwood stump already burning on the far side of the beach and set up camp, which consisted of a ground tarp and a bunch of blankets for nesting. At one point during the gathering of fagots for the fire, Lawdog noticed a "seal shaped rock" about 40 feet from our camp. Upon inspection, it was determined that this "seal shaped rock" was in fact a dead seal with no head or fins. Concerns about Slippy the seal, however, took a back seat to the concern that high tide might be joining us next to our fire. But as we ate 89 cent taco bell burritos and roasted marshmallows under the stars our concerns quickly faded.

The next day dawned bright and early with the sound of the morning surf. As the sun rose and began to heat up the sand, we realized that our dead homie Slippy was directly upwind of our campsite as pictured below.
After a morning bratworst and more than enough of Slippy's stench, it was time to hit the waves again.
But first...
We already looked like seals anyway.

Day 2 consisted of further wave slaying. The highlight of the day was when Jelly Monster and Nerd almost high fived while riding the same wave, but then just ate shit onto each others boards.

All in all our trip to the coast with minimal planning ended up a great success. We got the hang of the whole surfing thing and were able to turn into the waves slightly before getting tossed.

Slippy's still chillin hard

Oh yeah and we all had sweet facial hair for the trip too, except for me cause I still can't grow any