Nature Throws It All at the Volcom Pipeline Pro
“You know, every time you think you have it out there, you don’t,” said Jamie about not counting a win at Pipeline. “Even with 15 seconds left, 10…9…8…anything can happen out there. My goal is to win as many Pipe contests as I can. And there are only a few chances every year. I got one more now.”
Story by Jeff Mull
There’s a feint light filtering through the vegetative canopy encapsulating the hunter. He’s quiet, stealthy and his pair of normally glowing eyes have morphed into tightly honed slits, surveying the land before him, sussing out any disturbance in the brush. All of his senses are keen. He pauses, takes a hushed breath and smells the air, searching for the scent of the hunted. On his body, he carries with him an archaic tool that’s been used to kill for millennia. His bow, his trusty bow that has claimed more than its fair share of boars in the past, is ready to carry out its master’s orders. It will shoot straight if directed and kill its target with a ruthless efficiency. But right now, in the mud and cold on the Big Island, there is nothing. The air is still and void. Shane Dorian takes another breath, readjusts his bow and continues the hunt.
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