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  • Roark Revival - Vern's Vest - Men's - Army
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  • Roark Revival - Vern's Vest - Men's - Army

Roark Revival Vern's Vest - Men's

$89.95

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    Details

    When you're chopping down trees in the foggy forests of British Columbia, you need something that will keep you warm without inhibiting your axe-swinging motion, like the Roark Revival Men's Vern's Vest. This quilted vest has a worn-in look that pairs perfectly with a classic flannel laden with wood shavings.

    • Quilted cotton vest with broken-in look
    • Item #ROR008P

    Tech Specs

    Material
    quilted cotton
    Fit
    regular
    Pockets
    2 hand
    Hood
    no
    Recommended Use
    casual

    Tech Specs

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    Vern's Vest - Roark Revival

    Raph's father Vern Bruhwiler is one of the most respected fallers in British Columbia. Renowned for being dropped into some of the most inhospitable forests in North America, Vern has a 6th sense for finding big trees and cutting them down without collateral damage to the surrounding ecosystem. This is his vest. Button front quilted vest. 100% Cotton.

    Vern's Vest - Roark Revival

    "Hellbound in Clayoquot sound"

    ROARK REVIVAL VOLUME 11: “HELLBOUND IN CLAYOQUOT SOUND”



    By chance we locate Roark once again on the edge of civilization. This time in

    The Clayoquot Sound of Vancouver Island B.C. in the grasp of a cold winter. The rugged demands of the climate and volatile sea have dictated the direction of our Fall collection. We also find inspiration in the “First Nation’s” ornate textiles and spirituality. Will Roark’s voyage through space and time on the vessel “Pretty Girl” land him in the spirit world for good? Join us...

    From Volume 11:

    "HELLBOUND IN CLAYOQUOT SOUND"

    A distant friend of mine had put a sweat lodge together in his backyard just outside of Tofino in hopes of connecting a few Haida friends and I with a “higher power.” As I burrowed my face deeper into the mud

    I pondered everything from the origin of man to my favorite flavor of ice cream. It smelled like the earth mixed with the odor of an unbathed Russian oligarch and burning hair. The heat of the sweat lodge had penetrated my skin and begun to enter my soul when the chanting within the man made hut changed. It took on a different rhythm from a much louder participant. It almost sounded African and it was starting

    to take on a primitive afro-beat like improvisational feel. Although it was their first lodge, it didn’t bother any of the men from the “First Nation” that were strewn around me in the mud, but it threw me off.

    I then noticed that there was an additional man in the sweat lodge that must have slipped in after I was forced by the heat to retreat into the spirit world. It was hard to tell if was bearded or even if he had any garments on because he was completely covered in mud and debris. All I could really see was his eyes. They were wild and blue like an Viking in heat. He was looking straight at me, but he didn’t seem

    to notice me. I shut my eyes quickly in hopes that he’d just go away. He didn’t, and I ended up on a crazy voyage over the next 2 months with the man that I would later call “Roark.”

    The next day we’d take refuge on a 60 year old Ex-Canadian Naval Vessel called the “Pretty Girl” captained by a mad Canadian with a cackle for the ages. We gingerly motored through the Clayoquot Sound in search of waves and whiskey, ultimately connecting with the darker side of the Island - exploring the “other side” of a vibrant region trapped in a perpetual fog. My life would never be the same.