Scott Blum is an enigma. On the snowboard scene for a decade, but purposefully off the radar for the most part. Scott Blum’s escapist search for perpetual paradise.
Scott Blum stands as a reminder.
Literally. Standing in front of the Volcom van he stinks of last night’s party. He raged. Everyone did—Blum and the rest of the Volcom snow squad. Wes Makepeace and Jamie Lynn were there too, plugged in and playing metal all night. And all this was happening inside a barn with a freshly built 12-foot concrete bowl. Somehow the beer never ran out. And the fire was still burning in the morning. It’s the stuff of skate rat fantasies. Someone may have peed on the rug. It stinks of Peter Pan Syndrome.
“It’s paradise,” Blum says…