Thrasher Magazine

Master lensmen, everywhere.

Roger, probably talking about all the sexy fun he rubs in our faces on Instagram. If only I was younger ... wait, we're the same age.

Not suggesting he's old. Not with wallrides like this. Never.

Man of the hour. It's deadline time again.

Synchronized swimming with Raven.

'Our butts touched in the air.

Yes!

Then Vincent sweeps the lip with a switch tail.

Next up.

Angle talk.

Harsh barge.

Lots of hustle involved.

Cory arrives.

Three hours of direct sun later ...

Grant would melt with that, so he hid out in the woods.

Next day, deep in Burbank.

Fuckin' A, this thing.

Long way from Lake Stevens.

This abomination.

Mad bird shit, too.


Nope.

'No way. You like cats?'

Classic Scuba spots.

And again, kicked out of nothing.

In the end, Grant came up big, albeit with a little blood loss.

Speaking of, stopped by the SOTY's on the way home. Brutal blow from the KOTR high-jump comp. Gotta pay to play I reckon.