The rain fell hard in the Pacific Northwest, a relentless cascade that danced on the hood of the '66 Lincoln Continental, leaving a mist in its wake. The man at the wheel, rugged and weathered, wore a Black Bear Brand wool jacket made of Harris Tweed—the kind that could stand up to the elements and still look damn good.
His loyal companion, a dog with a spirit as wild as the surrounding forests, rode shotgun. The car purred like a contented feline as it navigated the winding roads, flanked by towering evergreens.
They reached the rivers edge, the rain pouring, a wild river below, its waters tumultuous and untamed. The man and his dog stepped out, the Black Bear Brand jacket providing a barrier against the lingering chill.
In the midst of the storm, they stood on the precipice, gazing at the rugged beauty of the landscape. Mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks obscured by clouds. The river roared, a force of nature in its own right, carving through the ancient landscape.
The man's eyes mirrored the untamed terrain, a reflection of the wilderness he traversed. His dog, sensing the primal energy of the moment, stood beside him, ears perked, eyes fixed on the coursing river.
In the silence between raindrops, man and dog embraced the raw, unyielding beauty of the Pacific Northwest. A fleeting pause in the journey, a moment stolen from the storm, a testament to the adventurer's heart that beat within them, echoed by the deep growl of the '66 Lincoln Continental idling nearby.

*Northwest's wild, my best friend

*Rain's rhythmic beat, my companion

*Nature's grip, my heart stirs

*In the wild, I find my place

*Winter draped the open road in a stark beauty, a desolate canvas begging for the brushstroke of a mad artist.  
*Chasing the unknown into the heart of it... beauty in the empty landscape, the engine growl echoing through the vast expanse.
*Sanctuary in the adventure, calmness in the harsh chaos. America, as it once was. Wild West, the road unfolding in front like pages of a tattered love letter.
*Simplicity in existence, a testament to a life lived on the edge of the unknown.

*A quest without end, an adventure without boundaries, and it's where I belong.
Forever seeking,
- Josh

As I hurtle through the ever-changing landscape of existence, I find solace in the madness that swirls within my head. It's the very madness that propels me on this relentless quest for life itself, my never-ending pilgrimage to seek the elusive sanctuary of peace.
For me, peace isn't a tranquil garden or a serene lake; it's found in the chaos of the adventure, in the unpredictable twists and turns of the journey. It's the manic dance of the throttle, the reckless pursuit of the unknown, and the wild pulse of life coursing through my veins.
The world around me may be a kaleidoscope of madness, but in its midst, I discover a peculiar serenity—a calmness that arises from embracing the unruly, the uncharted, and the unhinged. It's in the wild places, the untamed moments, that I truly come alive.
So, my dear, while others seek solace in the mundane and the predictable, I find my peace on the edge of sanity, riding through the tempest of existence. It's a quest without end, an adventure without boundaries, and it's where I belong.
Forever seeking,
Black Bear Brand

I endure as your unwavering wanderer, a fervent admirer, and a dedicated explorer. with a middle finger to conformity, I'll navigate the currents of fate, carving my tale into the annals of time—a testament to the passionate liaison between a soul and its insatiable craving for limitless horizons. 
the unknown... I'm devotedly yours.
- Josh Sirlin

The world was a blur of white and gray, a no man's land, where the west tested the mettle of men and sorted out the weak from the strong. But in that chaos, my mind found a peculiar serenity. The madness of the landscape mirrored the tumult within me.

A frozen hellscape, there's a method to my madness, in the eye of the storm, I find solace. My bike and I are a single entity, battling the elements, becoming one with the madness...
- Josh

in the Pacific Northwest

The rain fell in sheets, a relentless assault from the heavens, as if the gods of the Pacific Northwest had grown weary of the weak and sought to wash away the feeble-minded. Rugged mountains loomed like ancient titans, their peaks obscured by swirling mist and ominous clouds. The treacherous rain, a constant companion in this unforgiving land, was both a baptism and a crucible.

In this environment, where sanity danced on the edge like a precarious tightrope, I found solace. My crazy mind, an asylum for thoughts that defied convention, found peace in the chaotic symphony of rain and wind. The thunderous roar of the bike echoed through the forest, a primal scream against the silence that threatened to devour the weak-willed.

This Black Bear Brand jacket clinging to my frame is not just a relic of yesteryears... it's a new creation, a testament to my defiance and a tribute to the unyielding spirit of the Pacific Northwest. It's a personal journey manifested in fabric, a declaration of love in a world indifferent to the unique.

I charge through the forest, rain pelting against the hand-quilted wax canvas, this jacket is a middle finger raised against the mediocrity, a nod to my insanity etched into every stitch, it's a personal journey manifested in fabric. Fuck commercial expectation; this jacket is not born of obligation but of passion, a manifestation of my desire to wear something I truly love.

As I ride through the storm of life, my Black Bear Brand jacket, It's not just a piece of clothing; it's a living, breathing statement, a symbol of my own brand of insanity. In this untamed wilderness, where only the strongest minds find solace, my jacket is a homage to the relentless spirit of the Pacific Northwest.

Crossing the barren Utah expanse, nearing Moab. The adventure's kicking in, senses awakened.
Clear blue skies, the sun sets, highway descends into crimson canyons. Noise fades as I charge. From the best perch on Earth, I embrace the untamed beauty. I'm in it! My senses ablaze. Right where I belong, fully present in splendid serenity.
The sun bids adieu, and I grin at the thought of soaring tomorrow. Durango's on the horizon! Excitement, adventure, discomfort—they go hand in hand, and I sprint towards them. I crave the feelings they evoke, yearn to conjure the irresistible.
It's the airborne adventure that beckons me to Durango. Few places boast such extreme mountain pinnacles. It's a sky-high playground. To fly, it's here I choose, where the wildest, most intense flights await. This is my desire; my restless spirit craves the topsy-turvy. I'm set to get uncomfortable. Drawn to what terrifies me. I respect it. Confronting intense discomfort, it's life's elixir, stoking my creativity, igniting my passion for living.
Embracing vulnerability, acknowledging my insignificance—humble and empowering. It reminds me, I'm not really in control, just along for the ride. And what a ride it can be when I dive in, surrender to it, and participate fully.
Let's soar! Let's embrace discomfort. We lift off. Within moments, we're over an alpine lake, nose down, charging toward the mountains. The chopper ascends like a sprint up steep stairs, then drops its nose, and we surge ahead. Exhilarating heights, breakneck speed, and breathtaking beauty—we're flying through mountain peaks, relinquishing all control.
My illusion of control, tossed aside; unquestionably, I'm not in command. Gazing left, right, down, up, forward—everywhere, trying to take it all in. I'm smitten. It's oddly familiar, like I'm on my bike. We're dancing with the sky; calm and chaos in harmony, speed our ally. Reading the horizon, surrendering to intuition, becoming one. We're dancing, and nature leads. It's sheer magnificence.
The colors... that blue, it seems to intensify as we ascend, contrasting the snow-capped peaks that gleam even brighter! The soft sky meeting rugged rocks, almost muffling the chopper's roar. We land on a small peak at twelve thousand feet, savoring the surrounding grandeur.

Life's Connection to the Ocean's Blue

I'm back at the ocean, I love it. Riding my bike along the coastline, The ocean has this magnetic pull on me. I can simply stare at it and get lost. Time stops. The world around me melts away.

Today, I'm heading south, in my favorite place. Speed of my bike, taste of the ocean, and the color blue — oh, the blue. Everywhere I look, it's blue. The color blue is woven into my life in so many ways. The ocean I love, the clear blue sky I yearn for, the denim I design. Blue does something to me that no other color can.

Today, the blue is deeper, brighter, more intense. It's in everything I see, stretching in every direction.

This place, the highway, the coastline, my sanctuary. I always come back to it, the ocean magnified by the mountains. The blues of the ocean and sky dancing with each other, and I'm caught in the middle of it all.

Calm, provoked, peacefulness shaking hands with intensity, I love it, I'm really in it, immersed in the moment. I can taste the salt in the air, feel the power of the ocean all around me. I'm surrounded by mother nature's kaleidoscope of blues.

I pull to the side of the Pacific Coast Highway. It's like I've found heaven right here. As I sit on my bike, staring at the magnificence of the ocean. I glance down at my watch, blue is everywhere, I smile, everything in my life is interconnected. What I love, what I design, what I dream of — it's all linked by the profoundness of the color blue. As I sit by the ocean on my bike, embraced by the endless blue.

Once more on your hallowed ground, amidst the gentle embrace of your ancient traditions and the warm camaraderie of dear friends. With each return to your shores.
The beauty of this sacred land, the one so close to my heart. where the spirit of the samurai still lingers in the air.
Your history and traditions are like layers of an exquisite tapestry, and I am privileged to uncover a new thread with each visit.
I will miss you dearly, but I know that this farewell is temporary. We share a deep connection that transcends time and distance, A node to you and your unwavering passion
With love and gratitude, thank you, Japan, for the friends, the design, and the beloved experiences you have brought into my life. Until next time.
Yours forever,
Josh

As I hurtle through the ever-changing landscape of existence, I find solace in the madness that swirls within my head. It's the very madness that propels me on this relentless quest for life itself, my never-ending pilgrimage to seek the elusive sanctuary of peace.

For me, peace isn't a tranquil garden or a serene lake; it's found in the chaos of the adventure, in the unpredictable twists and turns of the journey. It's the manic dance of the throttle, the reckless pursuit of the unknown, and the wild pulse of life coursing through my veins.

The world around me may be a kaleidoscope of madness, but in its midst, I discover a peculiar serenity—a calmness that arises from embracing the unruly, the uncharted, and the unhinged. It's in the wild places, the untamed moments, that I truly come alive.

So, my dear, while others seek solace in the mundane and the predictable, I find my peace on the edge of sanity, riding through the tempest of existence. It's a quest without end, an adventure without boundaries, and it's where I belong.

Forever seeking,

Black Bear Brand

* Mother Nature, you wild, unpredictable deity, you fuel my life. I worship your chaotic grace.

* Life's forsaken highway, a waltz with chaos "Live free!" echoes like my gospel, a defiant salute to conformity. 

* The world's a loud and crazy circus. Freedom, my heartbeat, the only rule I follow. 

* A middle finger to conformity, spitting in the face of the mundane. I'm alive, thanks to freedom's wild embrace.

Seattle, my home, and the port, its pulsing heart—a place where I come alive. It's a realm of arrivals and departures, where dreams set sail, and I draw my inspiration. The emblem on my t-shirt, a sparrow with wings outstretched, serves as both my compass and symbol of the inevitable journey homeward. This, combined with my faded jeans, riddled with holes and frays, each telling its own tale of adventures embarked upon.

My Panhead engine growls, its thunderous sound echoing through the cavernous port. The call of the unknown beckons, much like the ocean calls a pirate. It's time to depart; there's promise in the air, an adventure awaits on the distant horizon.

The port is my sanctuary, a tranquil haven amidst the chaos. It's the gateway to the world, but for me, it's also the threshold to my own enigmatic spirit. It's time to embark, to chase the freedom of the open road. Here we go.

music: The Last Knife Fighter

In the midst of chaos, where the world was nothing but a cacophony of noise and confusion, that sparrow perched itself like a prophet of old, chirping away as if it held the secrets of the universe in its tiny beak.

And when the dawn broke, you could see it clear as day—the path these wayward souls had been searching for all night. That sparrow had led 'em home, a symbol of simpler times when folks trusted their instincts and nature's rhythms.

The Flannel Odyssey of Black Bear Brand

The historic ties to 1909, when Black Bear Brand flannel was born, like a forgotten ghost, lost in the mists of time. Few knew the true story, the deep connection Black Bear Brand had with Seattle's rebellious history. But then, there was Josh, a modern-day shaman of the Pacific Northwest, a man who had resurrected that Black Bear Brand ghost from the depths of obscurity.

Josh wasn't just the owner of Black Bear Brand; he was its living soul. His life had been a rollercoaster of love, insanity, and defiance to what was expected of him. He'd ridden the edge of existence, flirting with life and dancing with the unknown. His past was etched into the very fabric of the flannels he designed, and he wore his history like a psychedelic coat of many colors.

In a world of monotonous grays and muted blues, Josh's Black Bear Brand flannels were a burst of wild, unapologetic color. Greens, oranges, and every hue in between exploded across the fabric like a psychedelic trip through the wilds of his mind. Each shirt was a canvas, a manifestation of his experiences, his love for freedom, and his defiance against the mundane.

When you put on one of Black Bear Brand's flannels, you weren't just wearing a piece of clothing; you were wearing a piece of the brand's soul. It was as if you were stepping into the kaleidoscope of the life of the designer, feeling the rush of his motorcycle cutting through the rain-soaked streets of Seattle, hearing the electric hum of guitars in smoky clubs, and tasting the bittersweet freedom of the open road.

In Black Bear Brand's flannels, there was a rebellion against conformity, a celebration of individuality, and an invitation to live life on your own terms. They were a reminder that the spirit of Seattle, with all its insanity, pent-up defiance to the man, was still very much alive.

And so, as you slipped on one of Black Bear Brand's creations, you became part of the story, part of the rebellion, and part of the living legend that was Black Bear Brand. The historic ties had been resurrected, and they were now pulsing with defiance, psychedelic mind spin, a testament to the enduring spirit of Seattle and the indomitable passion of Josh, the man who dared to inject his wild, colorful soul into every stitch and seam.

A Cosmic Leather Masterpiece in the Abyss of Rebellion and Individuality

In the seedy underbelly of the abyss, where the relentless hands of time toy with reality like a malevolent jester, there resides a leather jacket. But not just any damned jacket, mind you. This is the stuff of damned legend. A magnum opus by the Black Bear Brand, forged from the cosmic hide of Horween's finest. It isn't just a scrap of cloth; it's a raucous clash between the sacred arts of craftsmanship and lunacy, a banshee's nocturnal shriek, a sacrilege to the order that humanity falsely clings to.

This Black Bear Brand leather jacket isn't a mere garment; it's a slice of the American Nightmare. It is a symbol, a flag hoisted by those untamed souls who dare to dance on the precipice of sanity. In a world hell-bent on corralling and purifying, this jacket is a defiant salute to the wild ones, those who willingly dive into the abyss, embracing the raw and the refined, proudly wearing their patina like a battle scar.

The legend of the Black Bear Brand Horween Horsehide jacket rages on, like a flask of acid passed hand to hand among rebels of every stripe. It stands as an icon of rebellion and individuality in a universe that relentlessly beats the drum of conformity. This jacket, my friends, is a ballistic ride through the hallucinogenic desert of style, a realm where the sole law is to be your batshit crazy, unapologetically unhinged self.
- Josh

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had to be in it... with the band all wearing Black Bear Brand (and it being about horses and riding motorcycles).

Man, Dog, and the Land Rover Adventure

Amidst the rugged expanse of Washington's mountain passes, a man and his dog embark on an adventure in his beloved Land Rover Defender, a vehicle as indomitable as his spirit. Clad in a Black Bear Brand 30 oz. Terry sweatsuit, a designer's masterpiece yet to be unveiled, they are a symphony of style and audacity. With the roar of the engine they redefine the very essence of freedom, tearing through the wilderness as a living testament to the art of both design and the untamed road ahead.

Craftsmanship, Chaos, and the Enigmatic Black Bear Brand Vest that Dared to Tame the Wild

It was a blistering hot morning in the desolate heart of Utah, the kind of heat that made the devil himself sweat. Out there on the open road, a lone figure roared through the shimmering haze on a 1948 Panhead, a mechanical beast from a bygone era, its throaty growl echoing off the barren rocks and twisted Joshua trees. That figure, my friends, was none other than the enigmatic Josh Sirlin, the mind behind the audacious Black Bear Brand, a name synonymous with defiance and style.

Decked out in his signature attire, a blend of outlaw and artisan, Josh sported a pair of weathered jeans and a tattered t-shirt, but the pièce de résistance was his new creation—the Black Bear Brand hand-quilted USA wax canvas vest. This vest wasn't just a piece of clothing; it was a testament to the fusion of craftsmanship and art, an ode to the wild spirit that coursed through Josh's veins.

The vest itself was a marvel to behold. Layers of waxed canvas bore the scars of previous adventures, each mark a tale of its own. The meticulous hand-quilting showcased the dedication and attention to detail that only a true craftsman possessed. As Josh zipped it up, the faint scent of adventure mingled with the earthy aroma of the wax—a scent that could awaken the wanderlust in even the most dormant of souls.

The sun beat down mercilessly as Josh guided his Panhead through the rugged terrain, his eyes hidden behind a pair of Black Bear Brand x SALT sunglasses that reflected the arid landscape like a funhouse mirror. The wind tugged at his vest, whispering secrets of the road, promising uncharted territories and daring escapades.

As the miles stretched on, the landscape shifted from parched desert to towering mesas, a symphony of rust and ochre against the blinding blue sky. And there was Josh, a lone figure on his roaring machine, a modern-day cowboy seeking solace in the embrace of the wilderness.

The Panhead's engine roared in harmony with the wind, a primal duet that resonated deep within Josh's soul. He felt the pulse of the land beneath his wheels, the heartbeat of a world untouched by the confines of convention. With each twist and turn, he was carving his own narrative into the annals of time.

But this wasn't just a joyride; it was a testing ground. The waxed canvas vest bore witness to the elements, the rough embrace of the wind, the occasional splatter of desert rain—it was a dance with nature, a rhapsody of survival and style. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in hues of crimson and gold, Josh knew that this adventure was etching itself into his very being, just as he was etching his mark onto the world.

So there you have it, a tale of Josh Sirlin, the maverick designer of Black Bear Brand, riding the winds of Utah on his Panhead, clad in a hand-quilted USA wax canvas vest that was more than just clothing—it was a tangible manifestation of his indomitable spirit, his passion for craftsmanship, and his unyielding hunger for the untamed road. In a world where conformity reigns, Josh stood as a beacon of defiance, a living testament to the interplay of art and adventure in the great American landscape.

My dear Freedom, you are the fire in my veins, the constellations that guide me in the darkest of nights. With every sunrise, I am reminded that your gift is not merely in the external, but within me - an unquenchable flame that ignites with every adventure, every risk taken in your name.

And so, I remain forever your faithful wanderer, your ardent admirer, and your devoted explorer. I will ride the currents of fate with the courage of a lone cowboy, etching my story into the annals of time, a testament to the love affair between a soul and its yearning for boundless horizons.

Yours, in eternal pursuit

- Josh