He told me that it didn't matter what he was doing, he constantly wished he was riding. He confessed that this addiction has occupied his mind since he could remember. This was all explained to me after he disclosed his secretive and grand idea to me (which at first thought, I suggested that it lacked any sense). I slept on it, let it's weirdness digest, and soon the weirdness transformed into a refreshing creative spirit. Sam Wright loves to dirt bike. So we sought out to capture a world in which he thought everything existed so that he could ride.
Underneath the helmet, and behind the foggy film of dust and buggy debris stained on his goggles, is a funky soul. He's the king of quirk. He's got permanent helmet head, he rides a bike the color of slime made famous by a juvenile television network with my name in it's title, he does his most convincing Michael Jordan impression anytime he laughs, and he isn't afraid of jumping fences and participating in a little friendly trespassing. After a long conversation about our first fist fights in school it was determined that I would become a die-hard fan of this kid. Plus, he's a ginger. This is Sam Wright.

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