Show me one straight man that wouldn't want to ride off into the night with two beautiful and scantily clad women on the back of his Harley and I'll show you one BIG FAT LIAR!!
A lot of people think that the way I arrived in San Francisco was mundane , on a plane like most everyone else, but they are wrong. My story is much more fascinating than that! I came to step the shores of great San Francisco only after drifting out at sea for forty days, gripping dear life only by the nails as I fought off hungry sea lions and Great White's with half an oar taken from the long gone lifeboat of which only an empty 20 gallon fuel tank was left, device which provided the much needed flotation indispensable in the survival of such an epic and tormentous endeavor. Here are some of the pictures that I was able to snap upon my arrival.
30mph + wind gusts bitter chill factor and a climb up the hill with over 75lbs of equipment and two surfboards... fight against the elements everything a shoot at Mavericks should be