Dopo un anno di duro lavoro, Rob sentì la necessità di prendersi un periodo di pausa, decise così di abbandonare il cemento della città e di partire. Da Vancouver viaggio a Seattle, da lì a Portland, visitando il Parco nazionale di Redwood, il Parco nazionale di Yosemite, San Francisco e Los Angeles. E tutto questo insieme al suo inseparabile skateboard. Non perdetevi il magnifico risultato del suo viaggio on the road.
The road has a funny way of showing you exactly what you need to see. If you’re an arrogant little asshole, it will take away your car, your money, your pride and leave you on the side of the road with a dead phone and an empty highway. If you’ve lost yourself in the shit-storm sea of life, the highway will part the tide like the Red Sea. Somewhere in San Francisco… Una foto publicada por Rob Hoffman (@robhoffman) el
California/Oregon border. We carved a path through the fog looking for a place to pitch a tent in the shrinking light. The permit desk was closed. Perfect. We proceeded into the campground. By 10:00 pm we found an empty camp site and prayed no one would come shining a light into our tents in the middle of the night. If we remain static for too long, we can lose the ability see outside the tunnel of our own perspective. This is a dangerous vantage point. Sometimes, it takes something extraordinary to show us that we are not.
The danger of routine is that your days become the bricks of a singular memory in your mind. On the road, every day is a house of its own. The highway becomes the timeline of your history as the passing countryside fossilizes in your memory, giving landscape to your life. Driving into Oregon, the smell of burning wood suffocated the valley and the green range of Sasquatch country huddled behind a blanket of smoke that floated south from Washington’s burning core. Read more at: http://www.theplaidzebra.com/13-essential-on-the-road-philosophies-for-the-broke-but-passionate-shoestring-traveller/ Una foto publicada por Rob Hoffman (@robhoffman) el
Somewhere in Yosemite Valley, California, our gas light came on to indicate 20 miles to empty. Our GPS had just taken us 30 minutes in the wrong direction, through the mountains, out of the valley and into the High Sierra. Retracing our steps, we pulled over at a cross roads with 5 miles till empty to consult a ranger loading gear into a truck. “Where’s the nearest gas?” “At least 20 minutes in either direction.” We faced our car downhill and threw it in neutral. The car bent over the dividing line of the highway on each turn, unable to break properly without losing speed. We descended from 8,000 feet, sewing the car through charred trees, sharp cliff faces and C shaped turns reaching speeds of 100kph completely out of gear. It seemed somehow less dangerous than the prospect of “pulling over” onto the 1 foot sliver of road bordering a mountain drop with cars pulling around the bends behind us with barely enough time to break for a squirrel. Instead we white-knuckled 20 minutes of mountain freeway until the gas station materialized and we thanked fuck for the power of inertia. Photo by @tylerfyfe//with @Connorfyfe @tylerfyfe and Ryan Patterson #skategram
Foto | robhoffman
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