Surfing, Skateboarding, Music, Photography, Travel, Culture and general antics of the youth on the run.

Every Wall A Door: The C.S. Louis Journals Part Two: Why I love Styx…In Mexico

what youth scott chenoweth illustration

Editor’s Note: C.S. Louis has spent the majority of his life serving the God’s of core. And now we’ve given him a chapel in the form of a new column he likes to call: “Every Wall a Door” to preach his gospel. You’re likely to find wisdom, surfboards, dusty backroads, a lot of frustration with the idea of “air wind,” bars, third-world discotheques, waves with juice and lengthy discussions in regards to the route taken to find them. You’ll probably end up hungover. In this second installment, a band called Styx in a land called Mexico. —Travis

I love Styx because I love Mexico. I love Styx because I love driving all night in Mexico. I love driving all night in Mexico because it is forbidden to drive all night to Cabo in Mexico. And while doing forbidden shit in Mexico, I fucking love jamming Styx.

We were four post-adolescent Renegades fed up with Southern California’s Grand Illusion selling Miss America to any Blue Collar Man with a Crystal Ball between their legs. Four men proclaiming they’d be working “online” from the road for the week while touring the entirety of the Baja peninsula. California to Cabo, 3000 miles in seven days, zero minutes of online connectivity, and karaoke sung with no less than four transvestites.

“Whatever you do, don’t drive at night. There are cows in the road and speed-bumps like logs fallen across the street and banditos and federales and intermittent wifi access for god’s sake,” chimed the consensus. And while it’s no doubt the topès would rip the suspension off Mickey Thompson’s Toyota if he were to dare evade the federales for stealing the roadside motel’s wifi password, I greet twenty plus hours behind the wheel in Mexico with pure pleasure.

I love tweaking my mind in Mexico. I love tweaking my mind with the regret and anxiety of a fiery rum hangover squelched by morning beers in Mexico. I love singing hits beyond my vocal range until I’m light-headed from squinting too hard during the high notes in Mexico. And most often when my tweaked mind is about to pass out from singing the hits down a dusty road in Mexico, those hits are Styx.

So tweaked our provision list began and ended with one case of water for four men in the desert that turned out to be apple flavoured and unpalatable in the sweltering sun. So tweaked we timed the swell of the year tucked far east up the Sea of Cortez before beginning the trek back west to some overhead Pacific left point cookers at the electrical pole of kilometre marker 1679 without consulting a swell model even once. Just men on the road belting pseudo-rock hits hallucinating and scoring.

The drive north from the left point was to be 18 hours so we polished our singular CD before setting out that afternoon. Eight hours to Guerrero Negro at the state-line between north and south Baja.

Yes, they got states in Mexico. Yes, they have fish tacos in all the states of Mexico. Yes, even in Guerrero Negro as landlocked as one can get in Baja they got fish tacos in Mexico. And during the intensity that confounded our deadline-driven road trip to a couple of the states of Mexico, those land-locked fish tacos later proved consequential.

Approximately seven hours later, when the moon was setting across the desolation and enormity of the Valle de los Circos awaiting the day’s first rays. When I was nailing the high G during the chorus of “Lady” with my eyes shut holding the note but not the wheel — all perfectly sync’d with the gastronomical grumbling associated with inland fish products — I sent the wagon bowling across the sand at speed towards a grove of Suguaro cactus rapidly exiting in gear with tires rolling to spray mud across the virgin white sand.

The boys piled out to roll about the virgin white sand of Valle de los Circos in Mexico. Minds tweaked, and stomachs emptied squatting in relief beside our soon to be abandoned vehicle — but forever loving Styx in Mexico. —C.S. Louis

WHAT YOUTH DRINKS: Sazerac An Evening Delight

Here’s a drink to reach for, the official cocktail from New Orleans: the Sazerac. With its ample bitters and sepia spirit, the drink is earthy and deep yet subtly sweet. While it’s served in an ice-cold glass, the unusually warm quality of rye whiskey gives me those fireside holiday vibes. It was made with absinthe…

What Youth Drinks: White Russian A Recipe Done Properly

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Radical Class: Some Weekend Reading A book about Australia (it’s that time again!) from an author we can’t get enough of

“Australia is mostly empty and a long way away. Its population is small and its role in the world consequently peripheral. It doesn’t have coups, recklessly overfish, arm disagreeable despots, grow coca in provocative quantities, or throw its weight around in a brash and unseemly manner. It is stable and peaceful and good. It doesn’t…

Five Songs For Your Next Surf Clip Here’s “Wonderwall” or something or other.

You ever sit down to enjoy the latest web clip and start off thinking, “Hey, the surfing here isn’t terrible.” But then, oh let’s say thirty-seconds into everything, you change your tone. Something’s not quite right. Tilting your head to the side, you raise your eyebrows a bit and say to yourself, “But the music…

What Youth Eats: Open Fire Soup When the thermometer drops, cook outside! Here’s how.

When you get close to Christmas and New Years it’s too easy to sink in to the hole of your living room, stuffed from eating and drinking heavily since Thanksgiving and let the anxieties of 12-hour family days and new year’s expectations to start creeping in. So if that is what actually ended up happening…

What Youth Drinks: Tropical Eggnog Happy Holidays, But First Drink this Punch     

To quote maybe every other person right now, “it’s been quite a year, right?” So much emotion! So much drama! Never the less we’re here, hopefully gathering around a table with a bunch of family to reconnect, catch up, etc.. But as beautiful as the idea of family togetherness is, 10-12 extended family members sitting…

what youth recommends top 5 books holiday break

Books we recommend for holiday break Spark up a fire and put some words through your mind for the holidays.

The next two weeks are an opportunity. A break. A moment to find clarity and inspiration. For most of us, in between the family gatherings and trips and travel and chaos there is a year wrapping up, and an opportunity to squeak in one or two more books to our count for the year. And believe…

what youth radical class cocktails with paul brewer

What Youth Drinks Building Blocks to a Great Cocktail

Did you know making cocktails is as easy as 1-2-3? Well, it can be with Booze-Acid-Sugar. In this brave new world of crazy ass cocktails, it’s easy to get overwhelmed by all these circus dick concoctions. Artisanal aperitifs, flavored vodkas, and flair-full garnishes are all real fancy, but sometimes they cloud the basics. Because, when…

Radical Class: What Youth Reads Homage to Catalonia: a book seven decades young and still topical!

The Spaniards are good at many things, but not at making war. All foreigners are alike appalled by their inefficiency, above all their maddening unpunctuality. The one word that no foreigner can avoid learning is mañana.—George Orwell, Homage to Catalonia I bring books with me when I go on vacation for two reasons. One, I struggle…

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Radical Class, What Youth Drinks, Paul Brewer

WHAT YOUTH DRINKS: COCCI AMERICANO An Easy, Inexpensive way to Live that Riviera High Life

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Radical Class, Berlin, Adam Warren

Radical Class: Hope from the Road Just when you thought it was all over: there is Berlin  

Turns out there is still hope out there. Out there, beyond your day-to-day, somewhere out on the road its not all politics, hurricanes, bad vibes and bad memes. In fact, the other day I found myself way outside the bad lands somewhere in Berlin. Just off the plane I walked around the Mitte District. I meandered…

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