Dirty (Thirty) South
Asher Nolan, Zander Morton & Crew Get Rowdy In Jacksonville
by Zach Weisberg
Online Editor

He burst through the saloon doors Stetson-first and gulped a hearty “Yeehawww!” The string of boots clacking on the dance floor didn’t take much notice and the mechanical bull in the corner kept bucking, but the flood of denim and flannel that followed him answered in chorus.

The cowboy-mob was none other than Asher Nolan and a crew consisting of Zander Morton, Eric Taylor, Ryan Briggs, and a dearth of Jacksonville’s most respected local surfers. This motley bunch had assembled to celebrate Asher’s thirtieth birthday in true Southern fashion: cowboy style.

“Ya’ll ready for a big night?” hollered Eric Taylor.

We mentioned we hadn’t slept in three days and had to get up to Wilmington the next morning to stay on track.

“Asher only turns thirty once, and ya’ll can’t miss it.” added Zander Morton. “You’re not going anywhere.”

They were right. After all – we were on the job. We had the privilege and responsibility of making as many friends as possible. We intended to follow through. After an evening of line dancing, cowboy chicanery, and talk of Jacksonville Beach’s illustrious surf scene with its major players, their crew took had taken us in as one of their own to share in celebrating a hometown hero’s birthday.

And that was the moment we officially entered the South. We may have arrived to Jacksonville by way of Miami, but only then did Southern culture surface. The air grew a bit crisper, the hospitality got even more obliging, and a syrupy accent popped up every once in a while. The line dancing didn’t hurt either. At last it felt like we were making some progress. 

And so today we hit the road. Maine or bust!

- Zach Weisberg
Online Editor

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