Words /


"I’ve had the honor of being considered one of the best lyricists from Alaska ever to do it by peers and fans alike. In terms of legacy, the beauty of it is that the story is still being written. I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know one thing: I’ll still kill any song I’m ever on. So step your bars up!"


There was a language barrier, visa issues, we had to avoid malaria, fleas, and I had about 20 worms in my feet. 


"I get to be wealthy by choosing to live my life how I want. I don't need a million dollars and a Bentley. I got a Lib Tech and a goddamn case of beer."


Freeride competitions don’t suck anymore. Actually, they never really sucked, they just sucked to watch. 


You might not mind stuffing yourself into a Sensory Deprivation Chamber if you ran the largest hip-hop drum sample business on the Internet—anything to mute the constant din of phone calls and emails. “I want to quit like once a week,” Brady tells me. “I really do. I think that’s pretty natural though.”


The last thing I remember was my dad telling me to put my seatbelt on because we might hit a cow. It was 2000 and we were on our way to Mammoth Lakes, California for Nationals, driving i395 through Death Valley – a stretch of road known as “Blood Alley” because of the high number of vehicle-related deaths.


"Molly and Ecstasy are popular at these kind of events because people like to feel good. I see a lot of people doing cocaine so they can last the all day rager."


My name is Natali Grayling. I live 5,000 miles from Anchorage, near the Hungarian-Ukrainian border. I’m 27, Hungarian, and I wrote a book called #alaska, a novel set in Anchorage. Oh, and I have never been to Alaska.


I’ve had this dream more than once, ever since he left. I lowered myself back down to my pillow and tried to coax myself back to sleep. “You know how the dream ends,” I whispered to myself. “At the end, he’s just as gone as he is now.”