We found some wood and started to fire and dance, even though there wasn't any music.

I went to meetings, I wrote the letters, and pretty soon I wasn't alone.

Get out of the truck when you hike through this field with your surf boards.

I'm like, there's no way there's going to be waves here.

At Patagonia, we were climbers and skiers.

We are surfers and anglers. We're activists and dreamers.

Stories of the fabric of our share culture and we're proud to sponsor the dirtbag diaries.

Visit us at Patagonia.com

I'm not totally sure how to say this without you thinking I'm totally insane.

For two years, I lived in a house that I definitely wouldn't say it was haunted.

Curse seems like too strong of a word.

Maybe the best way to put it is that 2005 Northwest Taylor was a happy island in a sea for boating events.

It was like we lived on a busy thoroughfare of doom.

I know that may sound like a little bit like an exaggeration.

So I brought in my wife Becca to corroborate this.

It wasn't like we lived in a bad neighborhood.

There were a variety of ailments at the house.

The guns, the Corvallis Police Department coming with the DEA task force is definitely one.

Cats into the house, the drunk undergrad student that would come to his girlfriend's window

which is right outside our bedroom window and beg to be let in.

Time after time.

What else?

...