Clout chasing with cars and motorcycles in 2025 has spun out of control across San Diego County — or maybe I'm just getting old. Picture this: a guy climbing out of his truck window while it’s still rolling down the freeway; motorcycle crews popping wheelies in tight formation on highways; and now, “freeway swimming” — when furious motorists slither through traffic, slicing lanes and coming inches from bumpers like they’re auditioning for the next Fast X sequel.
I can’t make this up.
The high-speed hijinks are all caught on cell phones, dashcams, or selfie sticks strapped to long poles — filmed proudly by the daredevils themselves. These days, clout is more addictive than cash, and the price of fame runs high: court fees, restitution, wrecked cars, and the occasional trip to the ER.

On October 17, patrons at North Park’s Bluefoot Bar & Lounge looked out toward 30th and Upas and caught a live show — a high-speed pursuit zipping past as bargoers raised their IPAs and phones, cheering both the Kia Boyz and the cops.
Last year, I wrote about the Kia Boyz — a hashtag-driven crew of young car thieves who jack Korean-made Kias and Hyundais, then proudly post the evidence. Mostly teenagers, they’ve built a viral identity around their crimes, hot-wiring cars with USB cables while flexing for followers on TikTok and Instagram.
That Friday night, according to 619NewsMedia, SDPD picked up a dispatch about a stolen black Kia Rio near Ocean View Boulevard. As officers closed in, a white Kia Optima suddenly swerved in, blocking police — like a move ripped from a Grand Theft Auto mission.

But this was real life, as the Rio tore through mid-city streets and crashed into four parked cars before stopping near Teak Street. The driver — alone inside — was reportedly taken into custody and hospitalized. Miraculously, no one else was hurt.
Meanwhile, the white Optima sped north through North Park’s narrow streets lined with million-dollar Craftsman homes. Videos from bystanders later surfaced online, showing the stolen car looping the area and narrowly missing pedestrians. The chase ended up on the freeway, where officers posted up spike strips and ended the shenanigans on Interstate 8 westbound by Hotel Circle. That Optima turned out to be stolen, too, read the report.

Police later confirmed that four juveniles were arrested, so if they filmed their joyride, those clips probably won’t hit the algorithm anytime soon.
This kind of reckless flexing isn’t limited to the Kia kids. While some stunts push the limits, others are simply about getting “rolling shots” — those smooth, cinematic freeway clips every car and motorcycle enthusiast freakin' loves.
A few weeks ago, @myducatidiaries posted footage of two riders popping wheelies on sport bikes as they rolled past the I-5 and Mile of Cars exit. South of the border, 664 Stunts shared a reel of riders doing the same on Tijuana highways and city streets — one segment even showed a man and woman on the same bike, pulling a wheelie. “Bien chingón!”
But not all clout chasing ends in celebration. Around that same time, in late September, a man in a white pickup truck pulled off something straight out of an ’80s werewolf flick. In a clip posted by 619 News Media, he’s seen slipping out of his moving truck — perched on the door frame, arms stretched wide, traffic roaring around him on the 805 and 54.
It’s hard to tell from the video if his legs were steering or if someone else was behind the wheel. Robert Moreno saw the rogue stunt driver another time: “He passed me doing this same thing two weeks ago. I was on my Harley; he thought it was funny. I got out of his way as fast as possible.” Police are still looking for the driver.
In the past few months, I’ve seen a new wave of this behavior on the I-805 — drivers “swimming.” It’s the act of speeding — but weaving through slower traffic at, get this, over 100 mph, often in packs, with cameras rolling.
I’ll admit — back in the ’90s, fresh outta high school, we had our own version of “swimming,” though it was slower and less reckless, and we used our parents' Hi-8 camcorders to film our rebellious lifestyle. But today’s drivers are packing 500 to 1,000 horsepower under their hoods, pushing 150 mph as if it were nothing. Many drivers mount wide-angle GoPros or 360-degree cameras to make it appear as though a drone is following the action.
These “swim” videos rack up millions of views on TikTok and Instagram. I’ve even included an AI re-creation here that captures how it looks out there on our freeways.
I’ve been part of San Diego’s car culture long before the late Paul Walker used to cruise around Mira Mesa. I still drive a lowered import and love seeing people take rolling shots of my ride — I’ll admit, I still chase the car clout.
But when some of these younger drivers throw revs at me or flash their hazards or high beams, egging me to “swim” with them, I just nod left and right and smile. Hopefully, they realize I’m old enough to be their dad — or at least their cool uncle — and keep swimming past me.
Clout chasing with cars and motorcycles in 2025 has spun out of control across San Diego County — or maybe I'm just getting old. Picture this: a guy climbing out of his truck window while it’s still rolling down the freeway; motorcycle crews popping wheelies in tight formation on highways; and now, “freeway swimming” — when furious motorists slither through traffic, slicing lanes and coming inches from bumpers like they’re auditioning for the next Fast X sequel.
I can’t make this up.
The high-speed hijinks are all caught on cell phones, dashcams, or selfie sticks strapped to long poles — filmed proudly by the daredevils themselves. These days, clout is more addictive than cash, and the price of fame runs high: court fees, restitution, wrecked cars, and the occasional trip to the ER.

On October 17, patrons at North Park’s Bluefoot Bar & Lounge looked out toward 30th and Upas and caught a live show — a high-speed pursuit zipping past as bargoers raised their IPAs and phones, cheering both the Kia Boyz and the cops.
Last year, I wrote about the Kia Boyz — a hashtag-driven crew of young car thieves who jack Korean-made Kias and Hyundais, then proudly post the evidence. Mostly teenagers, they’ve built a viral identity around their crimes, hot-wiring cars with USB cables while flexing for followers on TikTok and Instagram.
That Friday night, according to 619NewsMedia, SDPD picked up a dispatch about a stolen black Kia Rio near Ocean View Boulevard. As officers closed in, a white Kia Optima suddenly swerved in, blocking police — like a move ripped from a Grand Theft Auto mission.

But this was real life, as the Rio tore through mid-city streets and crashed into four parked cars before stopping near Teak Street. The driver — alone inside — was reportedly taken into custody and hospitalized. Miraculously, no one else was hurt.
Meanwhile, the white Optima sped north through North Park’s narrow streets lined with million-dollar Craftsman homes. Videos from bystanders later surfaced online, showing the stolen car looping the area and narrowly missing pedestrians. The chase ended up on the freeway, where officers posted up spike strips and ended the shenanigans on Interstate 8 westbound by Hotel Circle. That Optima turned out to be stolen, too, read the report.

Police later confirmed that four juveniles were arrested, so if they filmed their joyride, those clips probably won’t hit the algorithm anytime soon.
This kind of reckless flexing isn’t limited to the Kia kids. While some stunts push the limits, others are simply about getting “rolling shots” — those smooth, cinematic freeway clips every car and motorcycle enthusiast freakin' loves.
A few weeks ago, @myducatidiaries posted footage of two riders popping wheelies on sport bikes as they rolled past the I-5 and Mile of Cars exit. South of the border, 664 Stunts shared a reel of riders doing the same on Tijuana highways and city streets — one segment even showed a man and woman on the same bike, pulling a wheelie. “Bien chingón!”
But not all clout chasing ends in celebration. Around that same time, in late September, a man in a white pickup truck pulled off something straight out of an ’80s werewolf flick. In a clip posted by 619 News Media, he’s seen slipping out of his moving truck — perched on the door frame, arms stretched wide, traffic roaring around him on the 805 and 54.
It’s hard to tell from the video if his legs were steering or if someone else was behind the wheel. Robert Moreno saw the rogue stunt driver another time: “He passed me doing this same thing two weeks ago. I was on my Harley; he thought it was funny. I got out of his way as fast as possible.” Police are still looking for the driver.
In the past few months, I’ve seen a new wave of this behavior on the I-805 — drivers “swimming.” It’s the act of speeding — but weaving through slower traffic at, get this, over 100 mph, often in packs, with cameras rolling.
I’ll admit — back in the ’90s, fresh outta high school, we had our own version of “swimming,” though it was slower and less reckless, and we used our parents' Hi-8 camcorders to film our rebellious lifestyle. But today’s drivers are packing 500 to 1,000 horsepower under their hoods, pushing 150 mph as if it were nothing. Many drivers mount wide-angle GoPros or 360-degree cameras to make it appear as though a drone is following the action.
These “swim” videos rack up millions of views on TikTok and Instagram. I’ve even included an AI re-creation here that captures how it looks out there on our freeways.
I’ve been part of San Diego’s car culture long before the late Paul Walker used to cruise around Mira Mesa. I still drive a lowered import and love seeing people take rolling shots of my ride — I’ll admit, I still chase the car clout.
But when some of these younger drivers throw revs at me or flash their hazards or high beams, egging me to “swim” with them, I just nod left and right and smile. Hopefully, they realize I’m old enough to be their dad — or at least their cool uncle — and keep swimming past me.