Thrasher Magazine

Finally, the SOTY Nawwsty crew enters the vacation portion of the mission.

Wildlife and POV cameras, everywhere.

'Mama?'

Master Cocksman, Scuba Steve.

Resort wear in full effect. You earned it, Ishod!

And when the sun dunks into the azure blue, time to head to the park.

Grant's got frequent flyer status at this thing.

Big Rig tries out the upstream.

Cory can't let a little Texas plant get in the way of his new look of leisure.

It's cool. That thing's only about ten feet deep.


Ghost riders.

Boards, flops aloft.

Skidding edger under harsh block.

Ahem.

Classic moves.

The tenuous grasp of cotton on grip.

Tipped out in the vortex bowl.

While Donnie does his best Scott Oster.

Fire in the sky time.

Drunk on the moon.


After apologizing to the hotel manager.

Speaking of management, these guys exceeded all our wildest expectations. Nice work, boys.

Ishod, trying to steer the party back on dry land.

In my head, this group shot was going to be less awkward and more awesome.

Fuck it. Worth a shot.

Only 16 more swimming hours left.

Last sesh.

Obscure lines are kind of Grant's thing.


Pay attention, kid.





Wonder what would happen if Cory went full-time tranny?

Grant hanging around in no-man's land. Jesus.

It's easy to get jaded in this line of work but seeing the SOTYs in action brings it all back home. Congrats, Ishod! Thanks for the trip, everybody. Same time next year!