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 One: A hole in every port

what youth radical class scott chenoweth

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 first installment, he recaps his youth on the road. —Travis

I used to be fierce! I got chased down dirt roads by drunken Mexican banditos in the Ensenada night, only to negotiate a liquid settlement on the shoulder in the moonlight.

I had a chili bowl haircut and after that it was an unkept mane halfway down my back and I didn’t give a fuck when a beautiful 19-year-old dirt-stick sucking, Gold Coast Aussie outside Jupiter’s Casino told me it didn’t suit me.

I cheated and lied and laughed. I booked a ticket to Charles de Gaulle for the first week of my first semester of university and never mentioned it to my girlfriend before lift-off. I wore headbands gifted by morenas in San Sebastian and got pneumonia in Bundoran from packing too many Irish car bombs and then jumped into the bushes of Capbreton with the Dutch.

I purchased a starch-collared shirt solely for the nightlife of
Condado and cheersed Derek Jeter as I pierced a Boricua caught between the bar and my ever-thrusting adolescent pecker. I was without a doubt the finest rum connoisseur in the Caribbean for over a month, and star-gazed flat on my back at Soup Bowls with Tolan Goetz of Florida and Boatman, who taught me to fuck chicks indiscriminately, God dammit. They were both divorced.

A twenty four hour, two thousand kilometre solo road-trip from Vancouver to San Diego to party for one hour before hopping the border to scrape paint off the shiny flanks of a vehicle that had been pushed far beyond her capabilities both on and off road. That night I sleep-molested one of my best furry mates while dreaming of a hippy-virgin I would imminently deflower in the boot of the same trusty wagon.

I perished in a Chicama mechanic’s shop of dysentery and recovered by twirling plump little Mayans around the dance floor in Montanita. I have no recollection of what happened on Calle Suecia on New Year’s Eve, but I was proposed to at Punta de Lobos on New Year’s Day. I traversed the Andes on cross-country skis with Gary Australiano and fought a forest fire with the local bombederos in Puertocillo.

I propositioned girls (and not women) at the empanada stand outside a discoteca and brought their leader to tears with the sway of my rubio locks on an otherwise motionless eve. (Be blonde in South America by the way.)

I have intentionally never been to Indonesia before. In lieu, I spent several years combing the Cape of Good Hope for wintery peaks on the summer solstice and scared the living shit out of myself almost every day. I always thought I would desire Indo more appropriately once I got a wife.

I’ve read only one book, but I read it thrice and frankly: fuck Johnny Depp for that horrendous sham of a major motion picture adaptation. I’ll never forget Chenault’s innocence slipping away like panties off her naïve hips in a moment of regretful ecstatic bliss encircled by Vieques savages.

And then I lost my African virginity in a small town nobody’s ever heard of during the first night on the continent. Then I fell in love and never came home. —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

Some consider it a “guilty pleasure,” the Dude often refers to it as a “Caucasian,” but the simple luxury of a White Russian isn’t lost on anyone who knows what’s good for them. It’s the kind of drink that seems implicitly appropriate at any time of day because of the coffee liqueur and milk…at least…

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…

Radical Class: “The Center Will Not Hold” Definitely watch the new Netflix documentary on writer Joan Didion

In a world full of chaos, absurdity, tragedy and Stranger Things, it’s always nice to find some larger perspective in a good old fashioned documentary. And the latest on writer Joan Didion is that. Few names have encouraged an entire generation of people and writers the way she has. And just a few minutes into the…

Radical Class, What Youth Drinks, Paul Brewer

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

I snagged a bottle of this Cocci Americano stuff after seeing it on the shelf at a cocktail bar in Long Beach, CA. It was an impromptu buy — I didn’t know what it was or what to do with it, but thought I’d figure it out. Experiment! Cocktail jazz improvisation! While I’ll save the…

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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