Category: Articles

The Crappy Camera Photo Contest

In an effort to promoting a new wave of amateur interest in skateboard photography, we thought it’d be kinda fun to do a contest where all contestants are forced to use easily-accessible, incredibly austere (read: cheap) camera equipment, just like the chum that runs this place does. So, without any further ado, let’s launch this initiative, and go over the few details and deadlines associated with this little contest, shall we…?.  

Deadline for submissions:

Saturday, December 1st, 2018. You’ve got all the time in the world to make this happen, buddy.

The “Rules”:

There’s only one “real rule”, and three totally obvious rules. The “real” rule is:

– The camera that you choose to utilize must be anything in the world except a digital SLR (DSLR).

Allowable cameras would include: cellphone cameras, digital point-and-shoot cameras, “toy” cameras, disposable film cameras, point-and-shoot film cameras. Or, for those that might be truly masochistic (and financially gifted), old-school film SLRs are also allowed. You can find those super cheap these days, but buying and processing film is a major pain in the ass (and ridiculously expensive, to boot).

The totally obvious rules are:

– Photos must be e-mailed to us, or put into a Dropbox for us to retrieve. Put another way: you need to get them to us, somehow. And,

– Photos must include the name of the photographer; name of the subject (the skater); place, date, and time; the name of the trick being done (if applicable); and a description of the camera used. See the photo below as an example.

– Please make the subject line for all e-mails “Crappy Contest” (spelled correctly), so I can sort through them easily.

Prizes will be:

– $100 for first place,
– $75 for second place, and
– $50 for third place.

Judges will be:

Daniel Gesmer, Lew Ross, Claudia Yaw, Tony Gale, and Yours Truly.

Get crackin’, and get snappin’, kids!

Hints and Tips:
How To Take (Pretty Good) Skate Photos
by Bud Stratford

Along with The Crappy Camera Photo Contest, I thought I’d give all y’all a few Crappy Camera Photo Tips to help you increase your chances of winning some of that prize booty. None of these things are too terribly difficult to do, and none of them will cost you one single red cent. But they are simple, easily achieved, common-sense guidelines to taking pretty snappy skate photos.

They are, as follows:

1. Focus, Focus, and Focus

By far, the most important part of taking a good (or great) skate photo is getting the focus right. For most crappy cameras, this will be “automatic”; either they will have no focus feature whatsoever (in the case of old film point-and-shoot cameras, toy cameras, or disposable cameras), or they will have an “auto focus” feature (like most modern digital point-and-shoots and cellphone cameras).

Be sure that you focus on the spot where the skater is going to be skating when you shoot the photo, not some tree, building, or car way off in the distance. The best way would be to pre-focus by having the subject (ie, the skater) simply stand at the spot they’ll be skating; focusing the camera on them; and then, having them try their trick.

Most photos can be fixed pretty easily on your home computer, using stock programs. But focus is not one of those things that can be fixed. Either it’s in focus, or it isn’t.

2. Lighting

The best rule of thumb is that the sun should be facing the skater’s face at all times. Especially considering that we will probably not be using flashes; in that case, Mr. Sunshine becomes your de-facto flashbulb. Make sure you use him effectively by making sure that he is as bright as possible (the fewer clouds, the better), and suitably located.

The sun should always be directly in front of the skater, and directly to your back, whenever possible. This is hardest at high noon (when the sun is directly overhead) and at night (when there is no sun at all), but easiest in the morning and evenings (when the sun is rising to the east, or setting to the west, respectively). That means that the best direction for the skater to be facing in the early morning, is east. If that obstacle that they want to skate happens to be facing west, then it would be best to come back in the afternoon to shoot the photo. Make sense…?

Also try to make damn sure that your subject is in clear, wide-open light, not in the shadow of a building or something. Of all the variables, “lighting” will probably be the most maddening to get right. If it wasn’t maddening, it wouldn’t be very fun, and you wouldn’t learn anything along the way. So learn to love frustration, and appreciate it as the gift it truly is.

I have no idea who this is. I snapped this photo on Go Skateboarding Day 2008 at Major Taylor Skatepark in Indianapolis, Indiana. I was set up to shoot somebody else, and this guy came along and popped into a clean tailslide right in front of me… so, I pushed the button and captured it forever. The early-morning sun (rising in the east) gave me great lighting for this one. Sometimes, even the dumbest of us (that’s me) get lucky.

3. Composition

“The Rule of Thirds” is the best rule of thumb here. Very few great skate photos have the subject directly in the center of the frame; most have the skater offset to one of the upper quadrants of the frame. The standard rule is to have the subject 1/3rd of the way below the top edge of the frame, and 1/3rd of the way from the left or right edges of the frame. See the diagram below for a visual explanation of all this stuff; it’s way easier to see than it is to explain.

The photo on the right is Kiya Jellison’s pop shove-it down the Rio Vista Ten; the version on the right is divided up (using bold red lines) to illustrate the composition using “The Rule of Thirds”. This one is damn near textbook. Even I get it right sometimes.

4. Perspective

Personally, I shoot almost exclusively from “Worm’s Eye Perspective”, where I’m lying flat on the ground, with the camera as low as possible (or even touching the ground itself), looking at the viewfinder. This perspective almost always makes the skating look bigger, and more dramatic. You’ll get really dirty and sore in the process, but trust me on this one, it’s way worth it.

Other perspectives are cool, too, so feel free to try them out. Climbing trees or buildings for elevated perspectives, or crawling into bushes to create depth work pretty well, too. But the most boring perspective ever, is standing straight up in front of your subject, shooting the photo. Never, ever use that one.

If you’re not physically uncomfortable shooting your photo, then you’re probably doing it wrong.

This photo of Paul Bacher doing an alley-oop off the extension, was shot up at Prescott’s skatepark last year after their annual amateur contest had ended for the day. It was taken with the camera almost sitting right on the flatbottom of the bowl; I was lying  on the ground, looking through the digital screen on the back of the camera. Came out pretty okay, I think.  

5. Color Vs. Black and White

Most cameras shoot in color these days almost exclusively, but the photos can be turned into black and whites pretty easily after you’ve uploaded them to your PC, and opened them up in any kind of photo editor program. Black and white photography is beautiful and “arty”, while also being a useful tool to correct color and lighting deficiencies. Photos that look really bad as color photos sometimes look absolutely stunning as black and white photos, so feel free to experiment with that a bit.

I took this photo of Crazy Gary in Marshall, Illinois back in 2008, while I was on my midwest tour. Of course, it would have been better if Gary was facing me, but we can’t always have everything our way, now can we? I really liked the tension between the ferris wheel in the background, and the leaves in the near foreground; I shot this through a shrub, and it’s a great example of what’s possible using unusual perspectives coupled with the black and white format. 

Lastly, but maybe the most importantly:

6. It’s Okay to Fail.

Maybe you think that photo you just took sucks. Maybe your buddy thinks it’s the best photo ever. But maybe Lew, Claudia, Dan, and Tony will want to give you a hundred bucks for it; they’ll probably be even more enthusiastic about it when they realize it’s my hundred bucks that they’re shelling out. If in doubt, send the damn photo in anyway. Maybe it’s better than you think.

Maybe you’ll learn along the way that as long as you’re trying, then “failure” is absolutely impossible. The only time you fail, is when you don’t try. Then, failure is absolutely guaranteed.

That’s about all there is to it, kids. It’s not so difficult, now is it? Now get out there, burn some film (so to speak… “burn some pixels” would be far more accurate), get in a little practice, and then have at it. Shoot some skating, send it in, and claim your prizes. Best of luck to ya, and thanks for participating…!

Please click here, or hit your back button to return to the Contents page

Please click here, or hit your back button to return to the Contents page

I had a buddy of mine buzz me up on the phone last week. He’s been wanting to get into skateboard photography for a while, so he finally went for the gusto, and bought himself a spiffy new camera.

“Oh, sweet! What’d ya get?!”, I asked. He told me… but I’ll be damned if I knew what in the world he was talking about. All I know is that whatever it was, it sounded pretty darned fancy.

“How much did that set you back…?”, I wondered out loud.

“Oh, not much. Only five grand or so.”

Not much. Only five grand or so. Holy shit, that’s a lot of money. It’s a lot of money to me, at least. I’m guessing that it might be a lot of money to you, too. And I would also have to guess that five grand (or so) is an absolutely astounding pile of money to the average skater kid.

It made me do some more wondering… but this time far more quietly, and strictly to myself. Is that seriously the “cost of entry to skateboard photography” these days? Five grand (or so)? Boy, I sure as hell hope not. Because if it is, then nobody’s ever going to be able to afford to take up skateboarding photography as a hobby.

Maybe that’s why we don’t see kids taking it up anymore. Maybe it really is because they think that it’s just too damn expensive.

Here’s a funny story. A couple years back, I went to Palm Springs to cover the El Gato Classic for Concrete Wave Magazine, my publisher at the time. When I submitted my article, Mike asked me if I had shot any photos while I was there? Well, of course, I had… but they certainly weren’t “professional photos” by any stretch of the imagination. At least, I didn’t think they were, and I made that opinion pretty clearly known. Mikey asked me to send them in anyway, so I did; nobody with any brains ever argues with a publisher. And, turns out, my photos ran in the magazine. Much to my immediate amazement.

“Mikey”, I asked, “why in the hell did you run my crappy photos?! They weren’t very good!”

“Oh, they were great! What’d you shoot them with, anyway?”

“A Canon Elph”, I embarassingly admitted.

Silence filled the other end of the telephone line. That silence said something like, “You’re pulling my f’n leg, right…?”

No, sir, I am not. My go-to camera to this very day is, indeed, a Canon Elph 180. You can go to Walmart right now, and pick one up for just over a hundred bucks… which, incidentally, is exactly how I got mine. I bought my current Elph on tour in Tucson last year when my previous Elph got whacked (and destroyed) by a flying skateboard. It’s my go-to camera these days because it is truly and utterly disposable, and “disposable” kinda goes along with my job. Flying skateboards, after all, do have a nasty (and all-too-predictable) habit of destroying cameras at a prodigious rate. I threw in a fresh battery, a photo card, set it to “toy camera effect” (a nifty little application, right there), and let ‘er rip. I was back at the session in under an hour, ready to rage and destroy another Elph. At a hundred bucks a pop, who really cares if it gets a scratch or a ding along the way?

A hundred bucks is no five grand. That’s a price point that many kids can (hopefully) afford. It actually costs less than a skateboard, for pete’s sakes. And my camera takes some pretty spiffy photos.

I think it does, at least. Apparently, so does Concrete Wave Magazine.

Last week, my go-to programmer set about tidying up some of the back-end programming here at the site. One of the persistent problems that I’ve been noticing, is that the headline images on the Archives page randomly come up “fuzzy” on my screen. Here, I put all this work into creating neat, nifty little headline images, just to see them go straight to shit on the g’damn Archives page. Man, is that ever f’n maddening.

My programmer advised that it might be really smart of me to create those images as .png files, instead of .jpgs, so that they’ll display a little tidier on the screen.

“No problem!”, I said. “Paint will allow me to save my art in whatever format I want…!”

Again, an uncomfortably lengthy silence filled the e-mail airwaves.

“Paint?!”, my programmer replied. “Oh, dear……..”

Everything Skateboarding is built on a few cornerstone principles. They may seem like utterly idiotic principles, but I’m burly and bold enough to stand upon them anyway. One of the most important principles that I stand upon, is promoting active participation in skateboarding. Naturally, part of that includes promoting active participation in Everything Skateboarding… both figuratively, and literally. And I do go to some pretty extraordinary lengths to promoting active participation in Everything Skateboarding, even going as far as paying people to do it. Nobody that works here, works for free. True: they might not make much working here. But everybody makes something from their contributions.

Part of promoting active participation, is making sure that taking part is both accessible, and affordable. It also helps if you don’t need extraordinary, superhuman skills (or an extraordinarily large bank account balance) to make a contribution. That’s not to say that our contributors don’t have talent, or skill; they do have talents and skills, and lots of them. But, at the end of the day, we are all amateurs. We make our contributions to the media landscape because we simply love doing it, above all else. I think I can speak for everybody on that one. Myself included.

I would have to guess that the advertisers that advertise here, probably don’t choose to advertise here because the headline images happen to be made with an Adobe product versus an Apple product versus a Microsoft product. I really don’t think they give much of a toss either way… and if I didn’t happen to tell them which programs I was using to create this media malestorm of madness, they’d probably never know which fancy-pants (or un-fancy-pants) program I happen to be using. I suspect that they care far more about the ends than the means, regardless of how austere those means may be.

Sometimes you can achieve some pretty remarkable results with “austere means”. Everything Skateboarding is the macro example of that philosophy; this photo would be a great micro-example. Shot with my trusty Canon Elph 180 (the camera pictured above, and available at Walmart for a measly $109.00), this is Kiya Jellison popping a shove-it down the Rio Vista Ten. Sure, it’s definitely not the “best photo ever”… but it’s also not half bad. It’s a moment caught on camera (and published) that might have otherwise gone by, completely uncaught and undocumented. If you’re ever in doubt, err on the side of making it happen, and tell the world of pansy-pants uber-perfectionists to fuck off.

I’d guess that the real reason that they advertise here, is that we’re the only mass media outlet in the world right now (outside of social media) that goes completely out of it’s way to empower and inspire active participation. Even that concept right there… creating and building a mass-media outlet… is something that you, the average kid, can totally participate in. I mean, having only one Everything Skateboarding in the world has never been our goal, and it still isn’t. Oh, nosiree. Anybody that has a home computer (or can buy one secondhand for $250, just like I did); forty-five bucks a month to spend on high-speed internet; twenty bucks a year to register a domain name; and ten bucks a month to spend on hosting, can do whatever it is that I do around here. The pay sucks, as it always does. But the perks are still absolutely outstanding.

And believe me on this: there is no better perk than ganging up with all your fun-loving friends, gettin’ creative, causing trouble, wrecking shit, getting a free skateboard here and there, and giving something back to the skateboarding community that has given us so much.

If there is, then I certainly haven’t heard of it yet.

I’m pretty sure that a lot of people inside this industry laugh their asses off at me, on a pretty regular basis. “Oh, that f’n kook! Not that jackwagon again…!” Ask Gentle F’n Jones about that one, I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell you what an asshole idiot I am (you can be assured that the feeling is mutual, by the way).

But, in all seriousness, I do have to ask this question: how successful would our pastime, and our industry be… and by that, I mean how incredibly, stupidly, filthy rich would all these guys (and gals) be… if we all made “encouraging and empowering active participation in skateboarding” Job Number One…? How many more kids, girls, women, minorities, and middle-agers need nothing more in life, than a little bit of helping-hand encouragement and sincere acceptance…?

To that end, Lew Ross, Claudia Yaw, and I brainstormed a fun little concept last month called “The Crappy Camera Photo Contest”. You’ll read all about it elsewhere in this issue, and for the next few months to come… but again, the whole point is to step back, relax a little, think a bit, and realize that you do not need to spend five grand (or so) to take a semi-competent skate photo, and share it with the mass media. That sort of haughty snobbery might be the going rule at the other skate mags, and that’s fine as far as it goes. But in the world of Everything Skateboarding, less is usually more. Especially if “less of a barrier of entry” means “more active participation” in this pastime that we all love so much.

That’s all for now, talk to you next month.

Bud Stratford, Executive Director, Everything Skateboarding

The Newsletter is here to keep everyone in the Phoenix skate scene up-to-date and in-the-know about upcoming events and happenings. Below, you’ll find the June community calendar with detailed information about each event. If you have an event you’d like to add (or corrections for any of the events below), please e-mail the information to budstratford@aol.com. Thanks for supporting your local skate scene, and your local skate shops…!

Last Sunday of every month:
The Sunday Sessions

Presented by the skate shops, skate companies/brands, and the skate media of the greater Phoenix Metro area
Held at various local skateparks around the valley on the last Sunday of every month

Contact: Bud Stratford (or any local skate shop or skateboard company) on Facebook

Cost: Free for anyone to come, skate, and have fun.

Mark your calendars! The second of The Sunday Sessions will be happening on Sunday, June 24th, 2018 at Rio Vista (Peoria) Skatepark at 8866 W Thunderbird Rd, Peoria, AZ 85381.

The Sunday Sessions are intended to be free-to-attend, open skate sessions for skaters of all ages and abilities, held at the various Phoenix local skateparks on the last Sunday of every month (or Saturday evening, in the heat of the summer). The idea is to rotate them through all the local parks throughout the year, starting on the far west side, and working our way clockwise through the valley. Designed to get skaters together and to build the strength of the local skateboarding community, these events will be hosted and funded by the local Phoenix skate brands and shops, and will feature team riders, “Learn To Skate” sessions, spontaneous mini-contests here and there (for those that are competitively inclined), dork trick sessions, bar-b-ques, and prizes and giveaways from the participating brands and shops.

The goal here is to keep the community tight, and to keep skaters stoked and hyped on skating via regularly-scheduled get-togethers.

Tentative 2018 Locations Calendar:

The Sunday Sessions (Goodyear) Sunday, May 27th, 8 am *Done!

The Sunday Sessions (Rio Vista) Sunday, June 24th, 6 pm *Done!

The Sunday Sessions (Surprise Farms) Sunday, July 29th, 6 pm *Next up!

The Sunday Sessions (Union Hills or Paradise Valley) Sunday, August 25th (or Saturday the 24th)

The Sunday Sessions (Eldorado Park/The Wedge) Sunday, Sept 30th (or Saturday the 29th)

The Sunday Sessions, Special Road Trip Weekend! Lake Havasu City, AZ, weekend of Saturday and Sunday, October 20th and 21st

The Sunday Sessions (Freestone) Sunday, October 28th

The Sunday Sessions (Pecos) Sunday, November 25th

The Sunday Sessions (Cesar Chavez) Sunday, December 30th

Every Sunday morning at 9am:
Sunday Morning Mass
At various local skateparks, 9am every Sunday
(Typically Foothills/Union Hills Skatepark, 5752 W Union Hills Drive, Glendale, AZ 85308)
Contact: Prevent This Tragedy or Adam Richards on Facebook

Skaters of all ages congregate at local area skateparks every Sunday morning in and around
Phoenix. Free for anyone to come, skate, and have fun.

Every Wednesday, 3 pm – 6pm, and 6 pm – 9pm:
All-Girls Skate Session
91 West Skatepark
8550 N 91st Ave, Unit 54,
Peoria, AZ 85345
Phone: (623) 236-3033

Open to all girl skaters, $5 per participant, this is a chance for girls of all ages to skate together. Air conditioned comfort in the summer is an added bonus.

Every Thursday, 7 pm to 9 pm, $11.00:
Old-School Skate Night
Kids That Rip (aka KTR)
1927 N Gilbert Rd, Mesa, AZ 85203
Phone: (480) 844-9600

Open to all skaters, $11 per participant, 7-9 pm every Thursday.

Every Friday Night, 7 am to midnight, Free:
Friday Night Sessions at Gobber’s
Contact: Chris Gobber via Facebook

Free weekly skate session at Chris Gobber’s private backyard skatepark. Happens most Fridays. You must do this at least once, or you just haven’t lived. Fun for all ages and abilities. Friend him on Facebook to get updates and an invite.

Genius Sk8 x Snow Presents:
Genius Summer Sk8 Series
Saturday, May 19th, 2018; Sunday, June 24th, 2018; Saturday, August 11th, 2018; and Saturday, September 8th, 2018

Held at the Genius Backyard Sk8 Park, 3002 N. Manor Drive West, Phoenix, AZ 
Times TBA, Free

To register, or for more details, visit www.genius-life.com

This is a four-date series of amateur events held at a private, backyard skatepark in Phoenix. Check the website for details…!

Lifestyle Clothing Presents:
Tempe Grill and Chill
Sunday, July 15th, 2018
Tempe Skatepark at the Tempe Sports Complex, 8401 S Hardy Dr , Tempe, AZ 85284
5 pm to “lights out”, Free to chill, $3 to enter

The Grill and Chill events are always massive fun. Easygoing, relaxing, lots of good friends, great skating, and excellent times, they are not the types of events that you want to miss. Sponsored by Lifestyle Clothing, Skate True, Flo Skateboards, Spinelli’s Pizza, and Phlipseyed Clothing Company.

Everything Skateboarding Magazine Presents:
Phoenix CitySkate 2018 (Fall)
Saturday, September 15th, 2018
Meet at the Central and Camelback Lightrail Station/Park-and-Ride
9 am to Noon (or so), Free

It’s that time again! Time to announce the second of the CitySkate midtown cruises for 2018. The date is set for Saturday, September 15th, 2018.

If you were at the spring (or last year’s) CitySkate cruise, the itinerary is almost exactly the same. If you weren’t, here it is:

We’ll be starting at 9 am at the Lightrail stop at Central and Camelback. We’ll make our way south on 3rd Ave, using the bike lanes of the Sonoran Bikeway, through the historic neighborhoods of Medlock Place, Pierson Place, Yaple Park, Midtown, and Park Central. At McDowell Road, we’ll traverse over to 5th Ave, and continue south through the Willo Historic District. We’ll stop for a rest and water break at Encanto Park, where you can feed the ducks and the pigeons (if you’re a birdfeeding sort of soul), then continue through the Encanto-Palmcroft, Kenilsworth, and Roosevelt toward the central city. For this year’s cruise, we might skate over to the Capitol Building before heading back to the Lightrail station at van Buren and Central. The Lightrail will take us back to our starting point; bring $2 (cash or credit/debit) for the train ride back.

The whole cruise is roughly 7-8 miles one way. The gradient is slightly (but imperceptibly) downhill the entire way, and the route is very skate-safe for all ages and abilities.

Lunch will (again) be at Joyride, 5202 N Central Ave, Phoenix, AZ. This is an “upscale Mexican” restaurant with excellent (and affordable) taco plates, delicious enchiladas and burritos, and awesome sides. It’s also remarkably vegan friendly.

There will be demo boards on hand, provided by our event sponsors: Carver Skateboards, Seismic Skate Systems, and Loaded Longboards.

All attendees will get “Thanks For Attending” prize packs, filled with goodies provided by our our sponsors: Concrete Wave Magazine, Carver Skateboards, Seismic Skate Systems, Loaded Longboards, Orangatang Wheels, Bamboo Skateboards, Abec 11, Concrete Disciples, along with local skate shops Scottsdale Sidewalk Surfer, Freedom Boardshop, State Rideshop, and Cowtown Skateboards.

Everything Skateboarding Magazine Presents:
Phoenix CitySkate 2018 Indian Bend Wash (Fall)
Saturday, November 10th, 2018
Meet at Chase Bank, 8999 E Shea Blvd, Scottsdale, AZ 85260
9 am to Noon (or so), Free

The Indian Bend Wash Greenbelt is a long, smooth, paved greenway (that doubles as a flood control diversion ditch) that runs from Shea Road and 92nd Street, all the way to Tempe Town Lake, through McCormick Ranch, Chaparral Park, Camelback Park, Indian School Park, Continental Golf Course, and Eldorado Park, before continuing through Vista Del Camino Park and Rio Salado Park to Tempe Town Lake. It rolls steadily (but imperceptibly) downhill the whole way, and winds through some of the most beautiful scenicscapes in all of the Phoenix Metro.

This particular cruise is about ten miles in length, and ends at Eldorado Park, with multiple options for shorter lengths; there are bus stops at Chaparral park and Camelback Park for the less-ambitious and -adventurous of us. We get an early start, of course, to avoid the mid-day Phoenix heat.

For those that make the whole nine, the typically tired and hungry crew heads to Denny’s at 7605 E. McDowell Rd. to tank up on Grand Slams before catching the bus at the Hayden and McDowell bus stop to head back to the cars. 

All attendees should bring $2 in exact change for bus fare, plus money for the after-cruise breakfast. This cruise is open to skaters of all ages and abilities, and all are encouraged to attend. The cruise is extremely relaxing, and far less taxing than you would think, given the ambitious mileage involved.

There will be demo boards on hand, provided by our event sponsors: Carver Skateboards, Seismic Skate Systems, and Loaded Longboards.

All attendees will get “Thanks For Attending” prize packs, filled with goodies provided by our our sponsors: Concrete Wave Magazine, Carver Skateboards, Seismic Skate Systems, Loaded Longboards, Orangatang Wheels, Bamboo Skateboards, Abec 11, Concrete Disciples, along with local skate shops Scottsdale Sidewalk Surfer, Freedom Boardshop, State Rideshop, and Cowtown Skateboards.

Everything Skateboarding Magazine Presents:
Phoenix CitySkate 2019 (Spring)
Saturday, April 20th, 2018
Meet at the Central and Camelback Lightrail Station/Park-and-Ride
9 am to Noon (or so), Free

It’s that time again! Time to announce the first of the CitySkate cruises for 2019. Just like last year, the date is set for mid-April; Saturday, April 20th, 2018, to be exact.

If you were at last year’s CitySkate cruise, the itinerary is almost exactly the same as last years’. If you weren’t, here it is:

We’ll be starting at 9 am at the Lightrail stop at Central and Camelback. We’ll make our way south on 3rd Ave, using the bike lanes of the Sonoran Bikeway, through the historic neighborhoods of Medlock Place, Pierson Place, Yaple Park, Midtown, and Park Central. At McDowell Road, we’ll traverse over to 5th Ave, and continue south through the Willo Historic District. We’ll stop for a rest and water break at Encanto Park, where you can feed the ducks and the pigeons (if you’re a birdfeeding sort of soul), then continue through the Encanto-Palmcroft, Kenilsworth, and Roosevelt toward the central city. For this year’s cruise, we might skate over to the Capitol Building before heading back to the Lightrail station at van Buren and Central. The Lightrail will take us back to our starting point; bring $2 (cash or credit/debit) for the train ride back.

The whole cruise is roughly 7-8 miles one way. The gradient is slightly (but imperceptibly) downhill the entire way, and the route is very skate-safe for all ages and abilities.

Lunch will (again) be at Joyride, 5202 N Central Ave, Phoenix, AZ. This is an “upscale Mexican” restaurant with excellent (and affordable) taco plates, delicious enchiladas and burritos, and awesome sides. It’s also remarkably vegan friendly.

There will be demo boards on hand, provided by our event sponsors: Carver Skateboards, Seismic Skate Systems, and Loaded Longboards.

All attendees will get “Thanks For Attending” prize packs, filled with goodies provided by our our sponsors: Concrete Wave Magazine, Carver Skateboards, Seismic Skate Systems, Loaded Longboards, Orangatang Wheels, Bamboo Skateboards, Abec 11, Concrete Disciples, along with local skate shops Scottsdale Sidewalk Surfer, Freedom Boardshop, State Rideshop, and Cowtown Skateboards.

Everything Skateboarding Magazine Presents:
Phoenix CitySkate 2019 Indian Bend Wash (Spring)
Saturday, May 18th, 2018
Meet at Chase Bank, 8999 E Shea Blvd, Scottsdale, AZ 85260
9 am to Noon (or so), Free

The Indian Bend Wash Greenbelt is a long, smooth, paved greenway (that doubles as a flood control diversion ditch) that runs from Shea Road and 92nd Street, all the way to Tempe Town Lake, through McCormick Ranch, Chaparral Park, Camelback Park, Indian School Park, Continental Golf Course, and Eldorado Park, before continuing through Vista Del Camino Park and Rio Salado Park to Tempe Town Lake. It rolls steadily (but imperceptibly) downhill the whole way, and winds through some of the most beautiful scenicscapes in all of the Phoenix Metro.

This particular cruise is about nine miles in length, and ends at Eldorado Park, with multiple options for shorter lengths; there are bus stops at Chaparral park and Camelback Park for the less-ambitious and -adventurous of us. We get an early start, of course, to avoid the mid-day Phoenix heat.

For those that make the whole nine, the typically tired and hungry crew heads to Denny’s at 7605 E. McDowell Rd. to tank up on Grand Slams before catching the bus at the Hayden and McDowell bus stop to head back to the cars. 

All attendees should bring $2 in exact change for bus fare, plus money for the after-cruise breakfast. This cruise is open to skaters of all ages and abilities, and all are encouraged to attend. The cruise is extremely relaxing, and far less taxing than you would think, given the ambitious mileage involved.

There will be demo boards on hand, provided by our event sponsors: Carver Skateboards, Seismic Skate Systems, and Loaded Longboards.

All attendees will get “Thanks For Attending” prize packs, filled with goodies provided by our our sponsors: Concrete Wave Magazine, Carver Skateboards, Seismic Skate Systems, Loaded Longboards, Orangatang Wheels, Bamboo Skateboards, Abec 11, Concrete Disciples, along with local skate shops Scottsdale Sidewalk Surfer, Freedom Boardshop, State Rideshop, and Cowtown Skateboards.

On Deck:
Scottsdale Sidewalk Surfer Anniversary Bash
Tentatively scheduled for Saturday, October 13th, 2018
Scottsdale Sidewalk Surfer, 2602 N. Scottsdale Rd, Scottsdale, AZ 85257
10 am to 5 pm (or so), Free

Scottsdale Sidewalk Surfer throws an anniversary bash every October to celebrate their customers and the skateboarding community. Generally an all-day event that includes a swap meet, vendors, and bands, this is a can’t-miss local event. Stay tuned for details as October approaches.

On Deck:
Phoenix Skateboards presents the 9th Annual Fall Jam
November 17th, 2018
Rio Vista Skatepark, 8866 W. Thunderbird Rd, Peoria, AZ, 85381
10 am to 5 pm (or so), Free

We’ll keep you updated on this one as details come floating in.

This is the definitive list of every skatepark in the Phoenix Metro. It’s in geographic order, starting at the far west suburbs and working clockwise around the city.

Buckeye Skatepark
299 N 9th St, Buckeye, AZ 85326
8 am to 9 pm every day

El Mirage Skatepark/Gateway Park
10100 N El Mirage Rd, El Mirage, AZ 85335
6 am to 10 pm every day

Surprise Skatepark/Surprise Farms Skate Park
15798-15826 N 175th Ave, Surprise, AZ 85388

Goodyear Skate Park/Litchfield
3151 N Litchfield Rd, Goodyear, AZ 85395
7 am to 10 pm every day

Dust Devil Park
10645 W Camelback Rd, Glendale, AZ 85307
5:30 am to 10 pm every day

X-Court BMX Park
6101 N 83rd Ave, Glendale, AZ 85303
9 am to 10 pm every day

91 West Skatepark
8550 N 91st Ave, 54, Peoria, AZ 85345
(623) 236-3033
91westskateparkpeoriaaz.com

Desert West Skateboard Plaza
6602 W Encanto Blvd, Phoenix, AZ 85035
5 am to 10 pm every day

Peoria Skatepark/Rio Vista Park
8866 W Thunderbird Rd, Peoria, AZ 85381
8 am to 10 pm every day

Foothills Skatepark/Union Hills
5752 W Union Hills Dr, Glendale, AZ 85308
9 am to 10 pm every day

Anthem Community Park
41703 N Gavilan Peak Pkwy, Anthem, AZ 85086
6 am to 10 pm every day

The Refuge Youth Center
401 W Deer Valley Rd, Phoenix, AZ 85027
(480) 226-2019
therefugeyouth.com

Paradise Valley Skate Park
17642 N 40th St, Phoenix, AZ 85032
8 am to 9 pm every day

McDowell Mountain Ranch Skatepark
15525 N Thompson Peak Pkwy, Scottsdale, AZ 85260

Fountain Hills Skatepark
10441 N Saguaro Blvd, Fountain Hills, AZ 85268
Open 24 hours

Eldorado Park/The Wedge
2311 N Miller Rd, Scottsdale, AZ 85257

Reed Skate Park
1631 E Broadway Rd, Mesa, AZ 85204
8 am to 10 pm every day

Fountain Plaza (New!)
417 E Southern Ave, Mesa, AZ 85204
Open daily 7 am to 10 pm

Kids That Rip – Mesa, AZ
1927 N Gilbert Rd, Mesa, AZ 85203
(480) 844-9600
kidsthatrip.com

Apache Junction Skatepark
1097-, 1135 W Southern Ave, Apache Junction, AZ 85120
8 am to 10 pm every day

AZ Grind Skatepark
8743 E Pecos Rd #136, Mesa, AZ 85212
(480) 888-0499
azgrindskatepark.com

Queen Creek Skate Park/Founder’s Park
22360-, 22426 S Ellsworth Rd, Queen Creek, AZ 85142
8 am to 10 pm every day

Freestone Skatepark
1045 E Juniper Ave, Gilbert, AZ 85234
5:30 am to 9:05 pm every day

Chandler Bike Park at Espee Park
450 E Knox Rd, Chandler, AZ 85225

The Bridge
824 W Germann Rd, Chandler, AZ 85286
(480) 326-2247
bridgeccc.com

Snedigar Recreation Center/Chandler Skatepark
4500 S Basha Rd, Chandler, AZ 85248
8 am to 10:30 pm every day

Kids That Rip Chandler/KTR Family Action Sports Center – Chandler, AZ
1050 E Pecos Rd, Chandler, AZ 85225
(480) 718-5872
www.ktr-centers.com

Copper Sky Skate Plaza
44345 M.L.K. Jr. Blvd, Maricopa, AZ 85138

Tempe Sports Complex/Tempe Skatepark
8401 S Hardy Dr, Tempe, AZ 85284
Open 24 hours

Esquer Park
2407 E McArthur Dr, Tempe, AZ 85281
6 am to 9 pm every day

Hudson Park
1430 S Cedar St, Tempe, AZ 85281
6 am to 10 pm every day

Mitchell Park Skatepark (New!)
S Mitchell Dr & 9th St, Tempe, AZ 85281

Pecos Skate Park
17010 S 48th St, Phoenix, AZ 85048
7 am to 10:45 every day

Hermoso Park
2030 E Southern Ave, Phoenix, AZ 85040
Open 24 hours

Cesar Chavez Skatepark/Cesar Chavez Park
7858 S 35th Ave, Laveen Village, AZ 85339
5:30 am to 11 pm every day

What We’re Riding:
The Skaterbuilt OG Pig
by Bud Stratford

I’ve wanted one of these for so, so long. This is, quite literally, a dream setup for me. Intended for big, big boys that skate big, big terrain, this is one of the biggest (and best) skateboards on the market today for the purpose. It’s historical inspiration was the Santa Cruz Steve Alba Bevel; coincidentally, the Bevel was also this pig’s immediate precursor in my personal quiver.

The Bevel is the ultimate in classic ques, the definition of the “performance pig” in its era. The Skaterbuilt OG is, in many ways, the fully updated version made for modern-day skateboarding.

Out with the old, in with the new. While the Bevel may have been the last word in big bowl boards in the early ’80s, the lack of a kicknose really hurts in 2018. The Skaterbuilt OG also makes the Bevel look really tiny in comparison. Imagine that shit! Mind-blowing…!

Most people my age are spouting out humanity and burdening their financial futures with car payments, mortgages, and saving for their offspring’s college funds. I’m not that f’n stupid. I’ve decided to invest all of my money into fun. That’s smarter.

All middle-aged men that find nothing but never-ending sadness in your personal status quos: here you go. This is your ticket to freedom, good sirs. Buy one, set it up, and start ripping at life again. Planting your feet in the deep curves of this plush puppy is where your “personal happy” will probably be found.

Quality components = a quality build.

Dimensions: 12″ x 34″, 17″ wheelbase, 11″ over rear truck, 10″ over front truck, 6″ nose, 6 3/4″ tail

Set Up With:

– Tracker 219’s (Independent 215’s were just a wee too small for this setup)
– 65mm Abec 11 No Skools (in two different duros: 96a and 81a)
– Biltin bearings (Abec 7)
– 1/2″ hard riser pads, and
– 1 1/2″ Shorty’s mounting hardware.

The bottom shot.

This fucker is fun as hell. Oh, God, if you only knew. You probably don’t know, because Skaterbuilt only builds these in limited numbers. But you most certainly should know, because if you don’t know, then you’re just dumb. Smarten up, call Davo right now, and order one. Or be the rocket scientist that orders two, just like I did. There ya go. You’re welcome.

The downsides? Well, it’s big. And heavy. Not quite as heavy as you might imagine, but it’s still quite a mass. You probably won’t be kickflipping this anytime soon… but if you can, then you’re quite a stud. If you can tre flip it, then you’re practically a God.

If you really care about such things, maybe the other “downside” might be the graphics. Personally, I’m pretty indifferent about the graphics on my riders. They are, after all, meant to be ridden, not admired for their aesthetics… but, hey, some people really get their undies in a wad about that sort of sheep shit. Yes, these graphics are legitimately screen-printed (a nice, quality touch). But, hey: they’re still an outline of a pig. This board isn’t built to look pretty, guys. It’s meant to wreck shit.

The obvious upside of all that available real estate might be the sticker-slapping potential. And the formica is always a welcome surface finish. Creadon once told me that “Formica is God’s gift to skateboarding”, and he just might be right about that. In any rate, slick black works, and works beautifully for me. The bonus is that it’s tough as nails,  slides like greased lightning, and makes “wrecking shit” a bit easier, and far more enjoyable.  

The top shot. The bend lines are pretty visible in this one. Note the steep hips, and the proportionately small amount of flatbottom.

The upsides? Here comes the fun stuff, fellas. This is a big, meaty mass that moves, and moves quick. It’s a roller, not a baller. It will get you into and out of trouble very, very quickly. Set up sensibly, it will also provide long, loud, barking grinds and swift, silent, and deadly speed shenanigans. The scooter kids at the skatepark won’t hear you coming, but they will definitely feel it. Especially when you run them over. Not, “if”. “When”.

The wheel/truck/bearing combo was a series of really wise decisions on my part. The only thing I had to get a little used to, was the horrendous wheelbite potential. Big, soft wheels on super wide trucks will do that… and when it happens at speed, it can be a really scary situation. The solution? 100a Doh-Dohs, tightened down pretty hard over the back truck (looser in the front). Yes, it still turns; the sort of leverage that you can crank out of a 12″ plank will force any bushing to turn eventually, regardless of how hard it may be. And the Trackers turned far better than I imagined they would, given their widespread reputation as “trucks that don’t turn”. Yes, they turn. But the inherent high-speed stability that is the Tracker trademark was another asset that I came to appreciate, really quickly.

The concave is 7/8″ deep at the deepest. I’m trying to find a way to show the overall depth, but it’s hard to do. The only way to really experience it (and appreciate it) is to step in one for yourself. 

The concave is just completely ridiculous. It clocks in at about 7/8″ at its deepest, which is pretty ludicrous. Probably the deepest dish on the market, just like it’s inspiration. Once you’re in, there’s no getting out… and that’s the whole point. My confidence level went straight to the moon riding this beasty around; I literally felt like I was sixteen again, a lot. More obvious love for obvious reasons, right there.

Testing at a local ditch. Note how deeply scored the concrete is. 65mm 81a No Skoolz blew right over it as if the scoring didn’t even exist.

So where, when, and how have I been “testing” this one? Oh, man- all over the place, constantly, for the last two weeks. It started at the local supermarket, grinding down curbs to break in those 219’s. It’s seen about fifteen skateparks already (I’ve been traveling a lot lately; see my recent “And The Road Goes On” articles for elaboration), and probably an easy twenty ditches. I’ve done a few wallrides on it; those were fun, and the concave and kicknose really helped there. It clearly excels in big, harsh skate terrain. The bigger, the better.

Setting this up, and setting it up proper, will probably set you back something in the $225 range, after you get all the pieces-parts ordered up and shipped to your bachelor pad; they’ll be awfully hard to find at your local brick and mortar (unless your local brick and mortar happens to be SoCal Skate Shop, then you’re cool beans). Is it pricey? Maybe. Will it last you a ridiculously long time? Yup. Will you love every second of owning it, and owning every skatepark, bowl, pool, and ditch you take it to in the process? Oh, yeah, you will. You can take that from me, and take it straight to the f’n bank.

Skate Shop Spotlight:
The Sk8Haus
Surprise, AZ
by Bud Stratford

This is the way a truly independent skate shop is supposed to be. Family- and skater-owned and operated; well-stocked with a diversity of hardgoods from regional, national, and global brands; and being super-supportive of their local skateboarding community, The Sk8Haus is among the very best of the best, a beacon of skateboarding out on the high desert suburban wastelands of Surprise, Arizona.

Started about a year and a half ago by Brian Upton (a longtime skater in his own right, and a damn fine one to boot) and his lovely missus (that also skates), Crystal, The Sk8Haus is what I would call a “traditionally innovative” skate shop. On one hand, they have all of the familiar qualities that you would expect out of a classic brick-and-mortar: a home-away-from-home feel, bulletproof customer service and product knowledge, a great amateur team, and all kinds of neat new stuff hanging on the walls.

Brian and Crystal Upton, the owners of The Sk8Haus, hamming it up (and having a blast with skateboarding and life).

On the other hand: they are always down to try something brand new, in the name of making their customer service, their scene, or their community, even better than it already is.

Left: Cover kid Jake Laxson (Everything Skateboarding, March 2018), kickflip front board down the rail at El Mirage. Right: The Am Team, holding it down.

Tristan Carter spends a lot of time flying around the El Mirage Skatepark…

This is probably one of the most community-committed skate shops that I’ve come across in the past five, maybe even ten years. They support virtually every skate event on the calendar, regardless of where it may be in the Phoenix Metro. Considering that Surprise is a solid 30 miles, and/or a painfully slow one-hour drive from my midtown swank pad, that’s saying quite a bit. They have regular art shows, showcasing local up-and-coming artists, so that those burgeoning artists can have that all-important “first solo show” on their resume. They host weekly skateboarding get-togethers, as well as the impromptu, daily skate sessions that pop up behind the shop during “working” hours. They also organize and host “learn to skate days” at the shop, proving a mellow, relaxed, comfortable atmosphere for the newbies to come out, and give skateboarding a try in an encouraging and empowering environment.

Crystal’s involvement is an aberration among skate shops. The woman’s touch insures that the shop represents (and includes) everybody, at all times. It’s super family-, woman-, and kid-friendly. It’s not just “a skate shop”; it’s a legit home away from home, regardless of who (or what) you are, or how long you’ve been skating.

Lastly, they also do a lot of outreach among the non-skating community in and around Surprise, to keep skateboarding present and accounted for at larger events where they can represent skateboarding (and represent it right, and well) to the greater community at large. That’s part of the innovation that drives this small business forward. They [wisely] recognize that supplying skateboarding gear to the extant skateboard market… while all well and good… is not necessarily a pro-growth strategy. By marketing and promoting skateboarding to everybody and anybody, regardless of age, gender, or ability, they can grow their customer base organically simply by creating new skaters whenever and however they possibly can. Their product selection naturally reflects this ingrained diversity; I don’t think there’s a shape, size, type, or style of skateboard that The Sk8Haus doesn’t carry.

The shop, outside and inside. The shop’s always changing, but the reasons why they do it remain the same.

The best part are the smiles. The smiles on Brian and Crystal’s faces whenever I (or anyone else) walks through the front door. The smiles on the faces of their team riders when they get together for a photo/filming session, or when one of them stomps a killer trick. The smiles on the faces of little kids (or the slightly more aged little kids at heart) when they balance by themselves on a skateboard for the first time. Those smiles are the things that I’ll always remember about the time I’ve spent up at The Haus.

This is what it’s all about: putting smiles on faces, and sharing the joy of skateboarding.

If you like to smile, laugh, and have a good time skateboarding, then this just might be the kind of shop that you’ll wanna check out for yourself. I’d definitely recommend it.

Manufacturer Spotlight:
Subsonic Skateboards
by Claudia Yaw

When original owner Scott Moore opened Subsonic Skateboards in 1999, he handcrafted every board. From start to finish, Moore would design, stain, press, cure, cut, sand, and polish every deck. But the growing popularity of Subsonic boards created a demand that Moore simply couldn’t keep up with. So in 2015, four more owners bought into the company, moving it from Portland, OR to its current location in Southern Seattle.

Left: Owner Anne Cameron, overlooking the gluing process at Subsonic’s manufacturing facility. Right: Subsonic’s trademark.

I met Anne and her husband last month at Trader Joe’s, where I work. Between bagging organic dog food and fair trade goat milk, I told them about the rad skate magazine I intern for. They gave me some sick Subsonic stickers and told me to contact them if EverythingSkateboarding wanted to do a feature on a Seattle-based custom shop.

Subsonic currently has five owners, but the fellow most involved with the design and craftsmanship is Ryan Villa. Ryan studied engineering, but left school when given the opportunity to design and engineer skateboards at Subsonic. The young longboarder is largely responsible for the creation of the boards, and was more than excited to show me every step of the process.

The boards start as thin sheets of wood which are squeezed together with a hydraulic press. Ryan explained that although each mold corresponds to a specific board produced by Subsonic, they aren’t exact replicas, since the boards, once pressed, relax into their final shape.

Left and right: Quality in, quality out; Ryan shows off the veneer.

The planks of wood pressed together are meticulously chosen according to their grain. Depending on which way the grain runs, the wood will flex wither lengthwise or widthwise. Stacking these sheets of wood differently will therefore produce different levels of flexibility in a board. After being pressed, the wood sits in a curing room set to 73 degrees and 37% humidity to allow the boards to settle into their final shapes.

The coolest step in creating a Subsonic longboard is the CNC machine, or Computer Numeric Control machine. Ryan informed me that the huge piece of machinery is named Betty, and that “she’s big and she’s loud and she’s awesome.” Betty sits in a room largely filled with sawdust and fiberglass. The massive contraption is responsible for cutting the boards out according to digital instructions given by Ryan. Anne described how complicated the software program is that Ryan uses. “I had to go to North Carolina to get training for this specific program,” he told me. “I’m a pretty fast learner, so once I figured out the basics, I just started making things.”

“Her name is Betty. She’s big, and she’s loud, and she’s  awesome.”

                                                                                                                                                                          -Ryan Villa

Betty, Subsonic’s Computer Numeric Control machine, is responsible for cutting each longboard out.

Drew, Subsonic’s intern, described how the sawdust is kept in huge bins which have to be systematically emptied- one of the less enjoyable tasks at Subsonic.“I was in full layers and I was still itching the day after.” Betty uses different drill bits to create the main shape for the longboards, as well as the smaller details.

Ryan demonstrates how a round drill bit creates a detailed cut in one of the boards.

“Even though a lot’s done on the machine, we still spend a lot of time hand shaping each board,” Ryan explained. In fact, every board is hand sanded after going through the CNC machine.

“Even though a lot’s done on the machine, we still spend a lot of time hand shaping each board.”

                                                                                                                                                                          -Ryan Villa

The sanding process is where a lot of the craftsmanship comes in. On a Subsonic board, every curve and edge has a purpose, and is carefully sanded by hand. Ryan uses tools he makes himself to make sure every detail on each longboard is just right. When asked about other skate companies, Ryan and Anne both described how Subsonic’s level of detail is pretty unique in the industry. Ryan pointed to companies that manufacture their boards overseas. “To them it’s about the money and not about how it feels.”

Subsonic boards are sanded and shaped with tools custom made to fit the nooks and crannies of every unique board.

Each Subsonic board is also hand stained, making even the standard boards inherently unique. Anne admits that the staining process is pretty therapeutic. “If you’re staining the wood you can just listen to music or a book on tape.” Drew claimed that he once stained planks of wood for three hours before realizing how much time had passed.Ryan and Drew make rings, medals, and tools out of scrap wood left over from the CNC machine.

The final step is giving the longboards a graphic. Graphics are commissioned from artists outside the company, and range from more simple and abstract designs to elaborate animals, skulls, or even pirates. Most graphics are screen printed onto the longboards, but Subsonic also laser cuts some of their designs onto decks to create more scratch-resistant graphics. After graphics are added, each board undergoes a clear coating process. Between each coat, boards have to completely buffed in order to achieve the perfect glossy finish.

Top left: Laser cut graphic. Bottom left: Screen printing screen. Right: Graphic by Subsonic artist.

The finished boards are glossy, rad, and built to last. Ryan pointed out that shorter boards often only last a few months, or until street skaters get slammed and break their boards in half. “Especially with the crazy things street skaters do,” he claimed, “like throwing themselves down ten stairs.” He described a cycle between companies, who pump out low-quality boards, and skaters, who expect their boards to snap. Subsonic intentionally makes their longboards to last. Anne emphasized this point, and talked about a return customer: “We had a guy whose last order was in 2012, and the only reason he came back was because a car ran over his last one.”

Left: “The Graveyard,” a wall of broken, discontinued, and experimental boards. Right: A stack of decks, fresh out of the CNC machine. 

Subsonic’s youtube page features recaps and features of their downhill team, who explore beautiful PNW sights while ripping down hills at upwards of 40 miles an hour. This might be the biggest difference between street/vert skating and downhill: the scenery. Ryan described a recent skating trip in Canada, where the hill him and his friends were riding down overlooked the some islands off the coast.

“You’re thinking, man this is awesome. The scene itself just encapsulates you…and then you’re like, oh! I should pay attention to what I’m doing!”

                                                                                                                                                                         -Ryan Villa

The epic scenery of the Pacific Northwest may also be why downhill is so popular here. Ryan grew up in the desert of Tri-Cities in Southeast Washington, and remembers the longboarding scene consisting of no more than seven kids. His love for longboarding and downhill is what led him to Seattle: “I was like, I need to go somewhere where my people are.”

Left: Unique skate trophies for Maryhill racing. Right: A medal made by Ryan for downhill race Push in the Woods

Anne’s son is a downhill skater, and although she claims her skating abilities stop at balancing on a board, she knows first hand how welcoming the community is. “They’re just so inclusive. It’s like, ‘just wear your helmet and come skate with us!’” Although downhill skating is objectively terrifying (maybe it’s just me), Anne described how longboarding is incredibly diverse. Sure, there are downhill racers like Ryan, who get on a board in a full leather suit, ready to whip around hairpin turns at the speed of light. But there’s also pushers and pumpers, cruisers, and long distance guys like Andrew Andras. Andras holds the world record for the farthest distance traveled on a skateboard in 24 hours: 309 miles!

“They’re just so inclusive. It’s like, ‘just wear your helmet and come skate with us!’”

                                                                                                                                                                  -Anne Cameron

This year, Subsonic designed “La Maquina,” a red carbon platform board with metal brackets, especially for Andras. Subsonic also sees their fair share of older riders. “We’ll regularly sell customs to guys in their 60s and 70s,” Anne told me. “This is a sport you can do all your life.” Anne in particular is very proud of the diversity that Subsonic caters to. “I think it just goes to show that there isn’t just one kind of skater. There’s no stereotype that fits all skaters.”

“I think it just goes to show that there isn’t just one kind of skater. There’s no stereotype that fits all skaters.”

                                                                                                                                                                   -Anne Cameron

Left: Intern Drew holding a personal project that met its demise. Right: A platform board prototype with metal brackets.

Subsonic is proud to manufacture all of their boards in the States. In regards to the current state of skateboarding, Subsonic’s owners know that more and more companies are becoming corporatized, shipping manufacturing overseas, and mindlessly pumping out boards. Ryan is optimistic, though, that Subsonic and other small custom shops will be able to stay afloat.

“At the end of the day, people are going to recognize quality.”

                                                                                                                                                                          -Ryan Villa

Ryan, Drew, Anne, Penelope, and Cooper pose in front of the Subsonic van.

From March 10-13th, 2017, T Mag, Matt Hensley and the original H-Street skate crew was in the same place, at the same time, for the first time in nearly thirty years…

The crew.

Finalizing this piece, Tony and I had one last chat before I head into this looming deadline. He had this to say:

“We really can’t talk about my life now without talking about H-Street. That’s where I’m at.”

The Trip of a Lifetime

So here we go…

In January last year, Dave Hackett wanted to introduce me to Mag. A couple of weeks later, I’m sitting in the loading bay of Osiris interviewing one of the most influential skaters/business owners of my childhood, Tony Magnusson.

Mag, tailgrab over the hip. Photo by Dave Hackett

In late February, Tony asked me to come up and meet Matt Hensley. I accepted, of course. He had me at, “Hey, it’s Tony”…

Nassau, Bahamas

They offered me a job: follow and film The Magnificent 7, cross-country and through the Bahamas. I had maybe fifteen days to prepare for the trip of a lifetime. By the time I walked out of that meeting, I was booking flights for my wife and I, ordering extra memory cards, portable hard drives, and additional microphones. I basically spent every cent (and then some) of the contract before I ever hit the airport. It was worth every penny!

Left to right:  Ortega on the plane; Mag & Monica; Schultes & Mag arriving at the airport.

With the help of Skatepark Tampa, the first-of-its-kind half-pipe was built aboard a cruise ship… while at sea! This created a unique scenario for this legendary crew to rip: ride & slash while catching up and listening to live music from bands like Flogging Molly, NOFX, English Beat, and The Fucking Godoy’s, to name a few.

Left: The Crew; Right: Hensley overseeing the construction of the ramp on board the cruise ship

I spoke with each member several times over the trip and asked a few questions regarding the passage of time; inspiration and lifelong friends, here are a few words from Ron, Eddie, Ortega and Art Godoy:

What did it mean to spend 3 days with your H-Street brothers in the Bahamas after all these years?

Ron – “It was awesome to see all those guys.!. Especially Schultes, I don’t remember him being so funny! He had me busting up, great guy! Plus, really got to hang & drink with Ortega, that was epic! [I] Spent late-night talking with Sal and Hostetter, they blew my mind… plus all that music! Also, the homies of Skatepark Tampa coming and building the ramp aboard the ship, hanging out with those guys was epic as well. It was great to see all of them!”

Eddie – “It was the best, skating on a mini-ramp on a cruise ship was epic, bucket list material.”

Steve O. – “Indescribable; 3 days with friends that had a huge influence in shaping ones character.”

Art – “It was unreal. So much time had passed so quickly that until that night it was hard to stop and realize what we had all accomplished as a whole. The changes that really made skateboarding what it is today. Some of us became obsolete, but in the end sometimes there are sacrifices for the greater good. It was a great night. Seeing everyone there was really cool… fuckin’ champions! We didn’t all hang out all the time back in the day; we did our own things. Yet somehow there was a real sense of pride and unity then, but at the reunion it felt magnified. I think everyone felt the same. The Magnificent 7 release party, the Salty Dog Cruise… all of us there, it was fuckin’ great! It felt new again.”

Clockwise from left: Way, Schultes, and Mag; Art and Steve Godoy; Art with Steve Ortega

A couple of weeks after the unforgettable trip, I sat down with Mag at H-Street Skateboards interim HQ to catch-up and get his (now digested) thoughts on the experience. Here’s a section of the interview and what the ringleader had to say:

What did it mean to you to have the whole crew together again after so many years had passed?

It was rad! I don’t know if all of us have been at the same place, ever. Maybe at the video premier of ‘Hokus Pokus’ in 1989… it was impossible to ignore the magic!

When I asked Matt, he echoed Mag’s impression stating, “I just couldn’t believe it. I was standing ramp-side watching all of my friends and then, from across the pool NOFX starts playing! I felt like I was about to be arrested or something –it was perfect!”

Left to right: Matt Hensley, John Schultes, and Sal Barbier.

So, did the reunion bring about reissues or…?

Actually, it was the other way around. About a year or so ago [2015/2016], Danny, Matt, and I wanted to do reissues of all of the Magnificent 7 decks –original artwork, every detail. I’ve logged 1,000’s of hours re-mastering our original artwork; this led to talking about trying to get everyone together, which we somehow pulled it off.

Left: Mag, backside 5-0 on the floating ramp, Right: “That’s all, folks!”

Random H-Street Fact:

According to Tony, “the H-Street name came about because we wanted a company [therefore a name] that would be inclusive. We noticed just about every town we went to had an H-Street, so we went with that.”

When I spoke with Art Godoy about those early days, his response was that “Everyone was inspired and fueled by what was happening with the company. We all felt like our contributions were valued, and you could really feel it in the way things evolved. We were all like gears in a car. It wouldn’t function the same with any missing gears. That was the inspiration.”

Giving Back

Mag is well known for his positive attitude, generosity, and mentoring young Southern California skaters (and snowboarders) for over three decades now. Hell, his snowboard company was called Evol –love backwards.

Along with Mike Ternasky, Tony has been credited with discovering and developing countless top pro skateboarders. Among these, the incredibly talented San Diego native Danny Way who was only twelve years old when he was recruited to the H-Street Team and began filming “Shackle Me Not” with the crew.

When I asked Tony about Mr. Way, he said “Ternasky and I kept hearing about this little kid slaying Del Mar Skate Ranch and thought ‘how good could he really be?’ [Again, he was only 12 yrs. old at the time]. Then we saw him ride -it was obvious, we immediately knew this kid was special.”

Today, Danny is widely considered one the most skilled skateboarders on the planet. This is but one example of the generosity and positive energy Tony has put into our community over the past three decades.

Another example would be on August 26th of last year (2017), Tony brought the bulk of the H-Street OG’s to Clash at Clairemont, an annual fund raiser benefitting kids with cancer and their families.

Mag and H Street showed support for Grind For Life by shredding the massive bay-side half-pipe in San Diego during the Pro Demo. Hensley was there shaking hands and both the Godoy brothers and Ron Allen (M.C. Intelligence) did full sets –all for free and in support of those battling cancer.

Left: Mag, stalefish, photo by Piero Photo. Center: Art and Steve on stage. Right: Ron Allen takes the stage.

Between his H-Street and Osiris brands, Mag has supported hundreds of amateur (in addition to pro) skaters in Southern California and around the globe. Additionally, his brands provide commissioned- based sales rep jobs all over the planet and he has created long-term, permanent positions at home in San Diego. We’re not talking about minimum-wage jobs; we’re talking actual adult jobs where these people can feed their families, pay their bills, and enjoy life.

Ten jobs may not sound like a lot, but consider this: if just a fraction of those reading this (say 150 people) could create ten full-time jobs in their town, while pursuing their passion, it would lift up the quality of life for 1500 people and their families. That’s a positive change.

Left: Mag, invert, photo by Piero Photo. Top Right: Art and Christian Hosoi. Bottom Right: Matt Hensley and Christian Hosoi share a laugh.

What the Future Holds

The Matt Hensley/ Steve Ortega Art Show in Oceanside, Ca. doubled as the H-Street board release for the lost model… the Steve Ortega Pro Model was officially released, along with the reissue Matt Hensley King Size (Steve’s deck of choice back in the day) January 17th, 2018.

Left: The “lost” Steve Ortega model (right) and the Hensley King Size (left). Center: Steve Ortega and El Hefe.

So back to my looming deadline on this piece…

Tony and I had one more powwow (for lack of a better term) on January 24th, 2018. We talked about learning from the past, evolution, and what’s next. Here’s what Mr. Magnusson had to say:

So I understand you’re leaving Osiris, can you talk about it?

Yeah! Well, I’m 54, and I still like to skate 3-4 times a week. I recognize that it can’t last forever; the window keeps getting smaller and smaller… so yeah, I’m focusing on H-Street and enjoying ‘that time’.

So who is H-Street now?

It’s myself, Matt [Hensley], Danny [Way] is kind of silent but very supportive, Monica [Tony’s wife] -honestly none of this would function without her, she handles a lot. Additionally, I’d have to say the H-Street supporters, skaters all over the place who just continue to show love and support.

In closing… damn! What a great time with good people. Thanks to everyone at H-Street, Flogging Molly, Krause Family Skate Park in San Diego, Black Plague Brewery, and you for reading.

And The Road Goes On:
El Centro and Brawley, California
Friday, April 6th- Sunday, April 8th, 2018
by Bud Stratford

This wasn’t a particularly memorable weekend, as far as skateboarding was concerned. As far as my skatepark search went, it was pretty much a non-stop epic fail. It was, however, a super-stellar weekend for taking a leisurely road trip, screwing off, checking stuff out, and weirding out on legitimate roadside oddities all weekend long.

I’m starting to get a little bit smarter about these things. This weekend, I had a big, ambitious round-robin trip planned out through California’s Imperial Valley, including Holtville, Calexico, El Centro, Brawley, Calipatria, Slab City, Borrego Springs, and the Salton Sea beachside resort towns of Salton City, Salton Sea Beach, and Desert Shores, before making my way through Mecca and Blythe toward home. Knowing full well that I never sleep for a damn before one of my eagerly ambitious road-trip excursions, this time around I thought I’d try giving up on sleeping in my own bed entirely, and just up and leaving right after work, straight for the road. Believe it or not, it actually worked out reasonably well. For the first time ever, I actually got some good, solid sleep on a Friday night. Go figure.

Top: Conde’s Service Station, Sentinel, Arizona. Bottom: my campsite at Conde’s.

Friday, April 7th, 2018, 8:15 pm

It’s 8:15 pm, and I am in Sentinel, AZ, an obscure stopover spot at exit 87 off of I-8 at a place called Conde’s Middle of Nowhere Gas Station. It’s just off the highway, so you can hear the trucks rolling by in the dark, their turbos whining as they blaze by at 75 mph, along with the freight trains that frequently go by as well on the other side of the interstate. Camping here is supposed to cost $17 per night, but I didn’t park by the hookups; I parked across the parking lot at a spot called “The Park”… a little tree and shrub oasis that breaks up the wind and the noise of the highway a little bit… and slept for free. It’s kinda cute, actually, and definitely far more inviting than the pay sites that everybody else saddled up with.

The stars are big and bold tonight out here in the open desert. There’s minimal light pollution out here in the boonies, so they are shining bright against the velvet black of the night sky. It’s nice and warm, not too hot and not too cold, just perfect for sleeping tightly and sleeping soundly. And as an added creature-comfort bonus, I have a huge stack of One Dollar Stories here that Galen generously sent over to read myself to sleep with. Those are always good times.

Friday, April 7th, 2018, 11:55 pm

I was just shaken awake by a huge freight train barreling through at a breakneck speed. That blasting air horn was loud enough to wake up the entire f’n town, if there had been an entire f’n town here to wake up. I’m so close to the tracks that the earthquakes caused by the high-speed steel wheels percolate right up through the mattress, only tapering off as the train recedes into the black flatness of the lonely desert night.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 6:06 am

The trucks and the trains rustle me awake at 6 am sharp, just in the nick of time to see the sun rise over the horizon. I get up, get dressed, brush the moss off my teeth, wash my face, and warm up the car for my first rural exploration of the day, a set of ruins right on the other side of the interstate, and across the train tracks, called Sentinel Station.

There’s nothing on Google (or anywhere else on the internet, for that matter) that sheds any light whatsoever on what the significance of this place is. I thought that was a bit odd, since you can pretty much find anything on almost anything on Google… but not this place. The only information that the entirety of the internet can manage to muster up is a small pin with the name, and the location- that’s it. Clearly, it’s significant enough to be named and noted. But apparently it’s not significant enough to justify any sort of explanation.

The remains of Sentinel Station, Sentinel, Arizona. 

As I rolled up to the spot… just a few hair-raising moments before a lengthy container train reached the crossing… I saw that there wasn’t much left of these “ruins” at all. Just the four remaining walls of a tiny stone shack, and one wall of a much larger, adobe structure a bit closer to the tracks. Because of the total absence of solid information, a lot of the details regarding when and why this place was built (and subsequently left for naught) were left completely up to the imagination. Whatever the case might have been, it sure did seem a bit spooky. The ghostliness of the place, paired with the whine and the whirlwind of the trains rushing by, were enough to work up a strong case of the willies first thing in the morning.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 8:15 am

Sentinel Station wasn’t my only date with the morbid this morning. There’s a rest area just east of Telegraph Pass that features a “Yuma Area Veterans B-12 Bomber Memorial”. Now, this is just the sort of obscure something that the certifiable nerd in me simply cannot pass up. However, as I searched the internet high and low for any notable Martin B-12 wrecks in the area, I once again came up totally clean and empty-handed. “Oh, for cripe’s sakes”, I thought to myself. “There must be something going totally goofy with Google this week”.

Turns out, there was. As I carefully approached the stark white monument at the rest stop, carefully dodging small piles of dog-shit landmines everywhere, I finally spotted my quarry, and laughed at Google’s folly: this wasn’t a memorial to a B-12 crew at all. This was a memorial to a Boeing B-17G Flying Fortress crew that crashed into the high peaks of Telegraph Pass in 1942. Typos, man. They’ll muck stuff right up, every single time.

Left: B-17 Memorial at Telegraph Pass. That big mountain in the distance (right behind the memorial plaque) is the one that the bomber crashed into. Creepy. Right: Boeing B-17G Flying Fortress, illustration by the author.

“The B-17 bomber departed Yuma Army Airfield just after midnight for a round-robin night navigation training flight. The crew consisted of an instructor pilot, two copilots in training, a flight engineer, and a crew chief. At 1:42 am, 2nd Lt. William Richell radioed the tower at Yuma AAF to request landing instructions. Ten minutes later, a few witnesses 20 miles east of Yuma saw a massive fireball as the bomber impacted the top of the of the Gila Mountains. Although it is unknown who was in control of the bomber at the time of the crash, it was thought by investigators that the pilot had been using the lights of Yuma as a navigational aid, and inadvertently let the bomber descend too low before the city lights became obscured by the ridge the plane impacted.”

                                                                                                                                    – from Aircraft Archaeology

Top: Kennedy Skatepark, Yuma, Arizona. Bottom: mural at Kennedy Park.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 9:34 am, Kennedy Skatepark, Yuma, Arizona

I’m at the Kennedy Skatepark in Yuma. I just took a whole buncha runs through the little ditch here, sweating and stinking myself up already. Most people wouldn’t think that this park would be much to skate at all, but you don’t see a lot of skateparks these days with a ditch running through the center of them. An extremely mellow ditch, to be certain… but still, a ditch nonetheless. I swung by this morning to stretch my legs a little bit, do some rail-grabbing frontside carves, and dork it up a bit before my long and lonely drive across the open desert. Across the parking lot, a couple of older gentlemen are playing a casual game of horseshoes while in the distance, a Marine Corps V-22 Osprey is paddling its way into the air from Marine Corps Air Station Yuma.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 11:04 am

“Jacques-Andre saw this barren wasteland while serving as a Marine in the Korean War. He fell in love with it, and, with money made from his successful parachute schools business, bought thousands of acres stretching from I-8 northward to the Chocolate Mountains. “I told my wife, ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do with this bare land, but it has to be entertaining’,” he said. It wasn’t until the 1980s that he finally found an idea that piqued his interest, one that has now left a permanent impression on the landscape.

First, Jacques-Andre wrote a children’s book which helped convince Imperial County, California, to legally recognize a spot on his property as the official Center of the World (it is also recognized as such by the Institut Geographique National of France). Next, he had the town of Felicity incorporated, naming it after his wife, Felicia Lee. “To our knowledge, it’s the first town in America named for a Chinese lady,” he said. “‘Felicity’ means ‘ happiness, culture’.” An election was held, and Jacques-Andre became the first (and thus far only) mayor of Felicity by a unanimous vote of 3 to 0. Mayor Istel told us, in case you were wondering, that a justice of the peace and chairman of the Imperial County Board of Supervisors recognized a vote by the invisible dragon in Istel’s book as legal for only once in California history.”

                                                                                                                                   – from Roadside America

Michaelangelo’s arm (left) and The Official center Of The World pyramid (right), Felicity, California.

I arrive around 11 to find Felicity completely devoid of souls, minus two. The first was a landscaper that duly approached my car to tell me that Felicity is closed for the season, that everything is locked up tight, and that there won’t be any tours today. The other was Felicia, the city’s namesake in the flesh, who decided that my stubborn persistence (and postcard purchasing power) was enviable enough for her to open up the place, and give me the grand tour anyway.

Felicity, California. The stairwell is from the Eiffel Tower in Paris.

The highlight of the tour was, of course, The Official Center of The World, which is a small, round, bronze plaque set into the floor of a bedroom-sized, glass-and-tile pyramid. By stepping on The Official Center, you get to make a wish, any wish you want. The certificate of achievement that you earn for having done so grants you perennial powers to return at any time, absolutely free of charge, to step on the Official Center again to make another wish.

Endless wishes, huh? I thought that was a pretty good deal for the measly $2 tour, plus my $20.82 in postcards.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 11:37 am

“It was bad enough crossing the Imperial Valley sand dunes of Southern California on horseback. Early automobiles found it impossible. So in 1916, a one-lane road of wooden planks was laid across the eight miles of sand, funded almost entirely by the far-away city of San Diego, which wanted to lure people from the East by the most direct route. The speed limit was 10 mph. If there was a lot of traffic, it could take up to two days to travel the eight miles.

The plank road- the original Route 80- lasted for a dozen years until it was replaced by an asphalt road and today’s four-lane highway. It still crosses the dunes in spots, and a surviving section (with its own historical sign) can be seen from a roadside picnic area at Grays Wells. But you’d be nuts to try to drive on it.”

                                                                                                                                   – from Roadside America

I’m guessing that the people who read the above paragraphs must have had the proverbial “Hold my beer!” reaction, because when I pulled up to The Plank Road, I was bemused to find that, one, the original Plank Road is surrounded by very large, cut-up pieces of steel crane framework, acting as a very prominent and very threatening physical barrier for any cars (or dune buggies, or ATVs) that might be dumb enough to try the crumbing road out for themselves. And, secondly, that a replica piece of The Plank Road has been built and laid into the sand by the parking lot, so that touristy-types can drive right up onto it, and shoot photos to their heart’s content.

Plank Road Historic Site, Imperial Sand Dunes Recreation Area, Winterhaven, California.

As for me, I preferred to take my photos of the real deal. Thankfully, the crane barriers had fatass-sized gaps between them that I could sneak right on through, and walk my way up a piece of motoring history. Yes, I am a punker. I never claimed to be anything less.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 12:36 pm

I’ve spent the last hour or so between Felicity and Holtville driving through small, midwesterny-looking farm towns surrounded by ginormous fields of green. It smells really wonderful down here, like a cross between flowers, hay, and corn. It feels very fresh, but very humid, not unlike summertime in Indiana. My quickly-burning farmer’s tan is only adding to the atmosphere.

The Time Capsule Tetrahedron (right) and Holtville City Hall (left), Holtville, California

Holtville is not unlike a typical Indiana farm town. Lots of former businesses, now vacant storefronts, surrounding a centrally-located, well-kept city hall. I’m in Holtville because one of my Roadside American oddities- the Time Capsule Tetrahedron- patiently lays in wait on the courthouse lawn until July 4th, 2026… fifty years after it was sealed… when it will finally be opened to whatever fanfare this dying little farming metropolis can muster.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 1:15 pm

I just arrived in Calexico in high style, boom-blasting the power-pop punk sounds of The Semester Review, just to let the whole town know that the party has arrived. I got here to the Calexico Skatepark, only to find that there is no longer a Calexico Skatepark here. It looks like the skatepark has been replaced by a children’s activity and fitness court, of all the weak-ass things to replace a skatepark with. So, with that first surprise failure under my belt, I’m turning my big ‘ol butt around, and making my way up to El Centro. Hopefully there will be greener skate pastures up north.

Top: the GoogleMaps aerial view of the former Calexico Skatepark. Bottom: the former Calexico Skatepark as it exists, today.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 3:15 pm

El Centro is a study in paradoxes. The downtown district is absolutely gorgeous. The entire Main Street district is full of beautiful, ‘40s era art deco facades- an architectural dreamscape that somehow sprang to life in an Imperial Valley reality. It’s also almost totally abandoned; every glass door and window up and down the whole street is boarded up and solidly shuttered, left unutilized and unloved in the bleaching sun.

I’m here, looking for a skate shop called Cheap Tricks- a stellar name for a skate shop, maybe the best skate shop name I’ve ever come across. I parked my car-and-camper rig across the street from where it’s supposed to be, but it’s not there; all I see is the bleak storefront for a B-level dive bar. I check my Google Map on my phone one more time, just to be safe… and realize that, yes, I am in the right spot. Cheap Tricks should be staring me right in the face. Except, it isn’t.

Above: Brooks Jewelry building, El Centro, California, illustration by the author.

I make my way a little further down Main Street to a place called Brooks Jewelery. It’s no longer “Brooks Jewelry”; today, the storefront is shared by the Bujwah Clothing and El Dorado Printing and Embroidery sister companies… and whoa boy, what a storefront it is. The opulence is entrancing, with the vintage tin ceiling panels, the rich woodwork, the lavish bar, the full glass windows, and artwork… lots and lots of rich, colorful, vibrant artwork. It looks like some sort of cool-collision just occurred on the premises. Clearly, this is the home to some of the hippest, most colorful, and most creative people in the city. They are also avid skaters with an impressive collection of clay-and-early-urethane-wheeled, ‘70s inspired surf-shaped skates. For skate gear of much more modern persuasion, they point me to Driscoll’s Sports, just a few blocks off the main drag at State and Imperial.

However, even that news tidbit is frustratingly out of date. Driscoll’s recently gave up the skateboard biz to make way for an even newer upstart down by the interstate, behind Del Taco. Back in the car, driving around in circles and squares, I finally found the Del Taco… but no skate shop. Dammit! Out of sheer frustration, I asked a couple of kids that were out front of the mall where in the hell the closest skate shop was, and they replied, “right behind you”. Hidden away in the far corner of the strip mall, sharing a space with a comic-book store, I finally found Hibox- the only skate shop anywhere in El Centro. Only five stops later, and two miles away from where I started my search.

Above: three views of Sidewinder Skatepark, El Centro, California.

Sidewinder Skatepark, however, was really fantastic. That skatepark was amazing, definitely one for the memory books. Thoughtfully designed and excellently executed, I was most impressed by the super-friendly locals, who clapped and cheered for anyone and everyone. Even old guys like me that had a harder-than-usual time landing my frontside rocks in the 105-degree mid-day sun scorching.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 4:04 pm

The Blake Davis Skatepark in Brawley wasn’t quite as impressive. The locals looked like a threatening bunch of hoodlums. The pool was closed for repairs, most likely due to the obviously missing chunk of pool coping on the left-handed hip. It was still scorchingly bright, and insufferably hot. I decided to call it a skate day, and come back in the morning to take my runs.

Above: Blake Davis Skatepark, Brawley, California.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 5:05 pm

There was a pretty happening party happening at The World’s Tallest Flagpole in Calipatria. They had the street barricaded off for a sweet-smelling, fundraising BBQ. But I’m a pretty determined soul, so when I want a picture of The World’s Tallest Flagpole, then dammit, I’m gonna get a picture of The World’s Tallest Flagpole, come hell or high water.

Thankfully, the brainiacs that barricaded off one end of the block, fully dropped the ball on barricading off the other end of the block. I could see that much plain as day, right from the drivers’ side window. So, by using a little bit of Captain Obvious ingenuity, I was more than able to drive around the block, pull right up to the flagpole, and shoot the best pic that I could. It wasn’t much of a pic, because let’s face facts, even the tallest flagpoles make for fairly boring photo subjects. But, hey, I got the job done.

Left: The World’s Tallest Flagpole, Calipatria, California. Center and Right: abandonment and graffiti, Niland, California.

The drive from Calipatria to Niland was probably the scariest drive of my entire life. The winds had been picking up all day long, and they reached a crescendo just as I left the center of town, and dove into the flat emptiness of the field greenery. By the looks of the blowing dust, the straight-line wind speeds must have been reaching 30, maybe 40 miles per hour. I felt a little “bump” coming from the camper, as if I had hit a fairly big rock or pothole, and checked the rearview mirrors to find Old Trusty tipped up on one wheel, and just moments away from flipping over sideways. You’ve heard of “Oh, shit!” moments, right…? Well that one, right there, was mine.

The remains of downtown Niland, California.

It might sound counterintuitive, but the best thing you could ever do in that situation is to speed the hell up and drive faster. It’s true: slowing down my camper in a windstorm is a sure-fire recipe for disaster. Speeding up, however, means that the slipstream from the camper’s forward movement minimizes the sideforce that the winds inflict on the camper shell. Sixty, seventy, eighty, nearly ninety miles per hour down a two-lane country road… it wasn’t gonna get me great gas mileage, that much is certain, and it was definitely illegal as all hell… but, hey, at least my impromptu aerodynamics experiment got me to Niland in one piece, and still standing upright.

In that moment, that’s all that really mattered.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 6:30 pm

Salvation Mountain looks the same as it always has, which was a really nice surprise. Since Leonard’s passing in 2014, the future of this bohemian art experiment has been a little bit uncertain. But it’s still there, set into the side of the familiar ‘ol mesa, just as bright, bold, and beautiful as ever. There were at least a few dozen people quietly (and thoughtfully) wandering in, around, and through the vibrant-color maze of haybales, adobe mud, structural junk… “structural junk” being the throwaways (such as tree trunks and limbs, doors, windows, and other large, found objects) that make up Salvation Mountain’s backbone… and of course, all of that acrylic paint. Many hundreds, if not thousands, of gallons of acrylic paint, brushed liberally over the hay-and-mud trash castle that makes up the bulk of the mountain.

Left: The Salvation Mountain welcome sign. Right: the trucks where Leonard made his residence.

Left and right: Salvation Mountain, as seen from the outside…

… and from the inside.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 6:55 pm

I pulled into Slab City just as the sun was starting to set over the horizon. I’ve always wanted to spend a night camping here, but due to various unplanned and unforeseen impediments… namely, the scorching summertime highs that would make micro-camper life an un-air-conditioned hell… I’ve never managed to actually pull it off. Tonight, the lows are slated to be in the mid-60’s. Perfect weather for comfortable micro-camper slumber.

I use the day’s last rays of light to take a long look around, and orient myself to my settings. East Jesus is a lot closer than I imagined it would be to Slab City Proper; shooting photos there would be best left for the following morning, when the easterly sun would make for far more favorable lighting conditions. I stopped and shared a quick chat with an ex-vet-turned-conspiracy-theorist that was taking up gardening as his newest off-the-grid pastime. I stopped by the hostel, and asked how much a hot shower might be; the man in the velvet dress that showed me around never did give me a straight answer, but I learned a lot nonetheless. Then, as the sun was throwing its final rays across the sandscape, I made my way to the center of the City. I had some pretty pressing plans for the evening that I really didn’t want to miss.

Left: Vet-turned-conspiracy-theorist-gardener, Slab City, California. Right: The Range at Slab City.

There’s a talent show at The Range every Saturday night. That’s a show well worth catching. Yes, there’s a show up on the stage, as you might expect. And then there’s the show that happens off the stage, everywhere else in the crowd. That show is sometimes far more entertaining, and far more enlightening, than anything that might be happening up on the stage.

There was an attractive lady seated across from me in a dapper red cape, wearing a crown of aluminum wire decorated with artificial plastic flowers. I really couldn’t help but to stare; that cape was eye-abducting, and demanded a lot of attention and admiration. I struck up a quick conversation, inquiring how long she’s lived here at The Slabs, and was super-startled to hear that she had lived in this almost uninhabitable environment for nearly twenty years. Her mother had brought her here; when she passed away a few years back, she elected to stay a bit longer “until the heat of the desert baked away the hate”, or something to that odd effect. I didn’t ask her to elaborate. That seemed like an extremely unwise strategy to embrace. Some mysteries, after all, are best left unsolved.

Left: aged car (and aged driver) taking a much-needed break at The Range. Right: 1962 Chrysler 300, illustration by the author. 

I listened to music and conversation for the next two hours (or so). You’d be surprised at just how normal and mundane people really are here at The Slabs. They are usually painted as primitive, modern-day savages by the sensationalist-leaning mega-media, but that seemingly cynical assessment could not possibly be any further from the actual truth. Besides a little bit of libertine drug use, the people at the Slabs were pretty typical. They talked about fairly typical struggles, notably typical day-to-day gripes and worries, and painfully typical, petty gossip and innuendo, with your familiarly typical takeaways. They had almost the same exact motivations, dreams, desires, insecurities, hang-ups, and self-doubts that almost anybody else would have in our much more “civilized” society. It just goes to show that humans won’t really change all that much until we find a way to change the fundamentals of human nature, regardless of what sorts of strange, weird, or foreign environments we might devise for ourselves, and toss ourselves into.

Saturday, April 8th, 2018, 6:30 pm

I made my way to a campsite at the far perimeter of Slab City , right around the 10:00 hour. It was a quiet, relatively undisturbed part of the desert, far away from the chaos and deconstructive construction of the inner sanctum of The Slabs. Out here, far away from the excitement and the visual overload, was a much simpler setting where RV’s settled in for a quiet evening under the grand dome of bright starlight. I parked beside what looked like a looming Creosote bush, and set to making my hay for the evening.

I really needed some sort of bath, though. My stinkyness was really starting to offend myself, and I was mortified that somebody else might smell it and be even more offended than I was. Then, I realized: fuck it! I’m in the middle of the damned desert! And it’s really dark out here! I could get straight naked out here, and who was ever gonna see me, or my willy?! Nobody! That’s who! So, I immediately set about to scraping off my sweaty and sticky socks and boxers, with the aim of giving myself a whore bath of lavish and luxurious proportions.

Just as I was about to strip off the last of my modesty duds, a bevy of bright headlights suddenly materialized over the horizon amidst a billowing cloud of dust, accompanied by the drone of mega-horsepower diesel engines. I casually strolled… that’s code for “hid”, kids…. behind one of my camper doors, casually (and confidently) leaning on it as if I had nothing at all to be ashamed of, and watched the headlights loom into a convoy of Marines out on a weekend-warrior mission, complete with Humvees, supply trucks, and low-flying helicopters. The Marines were hanging out their windows, cellphones in their hands, filming the freakshow as they rolled by on their way to their command-and-control infrastructure on the other side of the canal and further out into the desert. I thought it was more than a little bit ironic how the military-industrial complex was steamrolling so purposefully, straight through the heart of the anarchy at The Last Free Place On Earth.

And it was all happening right here, right now, and right in front of my campsite.

Typical living quarters at Slab City, California. (This cabin was right behind my campsite.)

Sunday, April 8th, 2018, 6:50 am

This morning started much the same way that yesterday morning did: a stupid-bright sunrise, a quick moss-removing expedition over the ‘ol teeth, some severe hydration that had to happen (and happen quite quickly), and my usual morning pee. What I did not expect, however, was the loud and persistent blasting of a trumpet sounding “Revilee” at 6:59 sharp. Again, I was startled scared, looking high and low for the Marines that I was certain would be jumping out of the bushes at any moment to bust us all for last night’s anarchic shenanigans. Turns out, that’s just how Slab City wakes up every morning. Another nod, I suppose, to the military foundations of Camp Dunlap that would ultimately become the libertine’s campground of choice.

Art…

abounds…

at…

East…

Jesus. Sunday morning sunrise, April 8th, 2018.

I made my quick drive over to East Jesus to shoot an hour or so worth of photos before I made my way to my morning breakfast. Turns out, I wasn’t alone: as soon as I walked in the front gates, pairs of young, half-naked women suddenly emerged from the nooks and crannies of the art enclave. As they casually donned their clothes, I realized that they must be models; they were garbed to resemble severely bustier versions of Bootsy Collins, with rainbow-colored sequin fabrics and sky-high platform boots with neon-bright faux-fur collars and scarves that only a fashion model would ever consider wearing. They spotted me right away, of course… my hugeness isn’t exactly easy to hide… saw the camera in my hands, and asked if I was there for the photo shoot? I was so bowled over by the half-nudity, and the clash between nineteen seventies funk and the modern Mad Max setting, that I actually had a difficult time answering the query.

Once I realigned myself with my quiet inner peace, I slowly strolled around the open-air art museum, taking in all of the vibrant colors and textures, experiencing a whole host of small surprises all along the way. Around one corner, I had the willies scared straight outta me by a ghostly apparition that was floating in the doorway; it took me a moment to realize that this was merely a mannequin dressed in a see-through lace dress, strung up by her pretty white neck to nowhere. The whimsy and humour of the place was on full display, but framed in the dark reality that the roots of everything here are the ugly eyesores and the discarded tossaways that our modern civilization produces by the ton, in every town and city across America, every single day.

Left: Junk Art Robot, illustration by the author. Right: Reality Ahead as I was leaving Slab City. This is my favorite photo from the whole trip; the look on his face says it all. 

Sunday, April 8th, 2018, 9:25 am

“Blub.”

There are signs all around the perimeter of this field warning of apprehension and prosecution for any trespassers that might infringe on the privateness of the property sprawled out in front of me. In the center of the sprawling field are the famous Mud Volcanoes of the Davis-Schrimpf Seep Field… a naturally occurring geological wonder where carbon dioxide just under the earth’s surface rises from the mantle, mixes with sediment and water, and erupts out of the topsoil to create mud lava.

“Blub”. This shit, I had to go and see for myself. I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff in my lifetime, but mud volcanoes are just a little too crazy for my feeble mind to fully register. Yes, I could clearly see the volcanoes sticking up out of the field. But somehow, I still couldn’t quite believe them.

“Blub.”

As I approached the first of the mud volcanoes, I could hear the hiss of steam, and a quiet gurgling inside the cone. Then, the mud started to slowly flow from the pint-sized crater. And then, it happened: a big gas bubble made its way to the surface of the earth, and popped in a characteristic “Blub”.

Holy crap. They really weren’t kidding around.

“Blub”.

It was only well after the fact that Atlas Obscura warned me not to climb the volcanoes, not to stick my face inside, and heaven forbid, not to do anything less than exercise extreme caution at all times. In my moment of pure cluelessness, however… and before I had a chance (or the inclination) to fully digest the directions… I ran straight up the volcano, stuck my nose right into the crater, and exercised something far closer to carefree curiosity.

“Blub”.

The pressurized bubble steam rose out of the slow-crawling mud eruption, and I smelled the unmistakable scent of sulfur boiling up from the depths. I got a little bit of mud spattered on my glasses. It was pretty neat.

Sunday, April 8th, 2018, 10:08 am

There’s a certain dance that occurs when two old guys cross paths at the skatepark. It’s a little bit like a friendly Mexican standoff. You squint as you peer in the distance, sizing each other up from afar, taking special notes about the board they’re riding, the componentry, how it’s set up … yes, it’s true, we are all product geeks and nerds at heart. Their setups are what you judge them by first and foremost, before and above all else. Moses had a Natas re-pop with some sort of glitter ink, OJ II Street razors, and Surf Rods, topped off with white rails. I stared him down with a crack of a smile.

“Nice ride”, I nodded as he rolled over my way to investigate. Our eyes were locked solidly on each other’s skateboards. Nobody dared to blink.

“Yours, too. What is it…?” I had my trusty Deathbox Dave Hackett with 169’s and NOS 60mm, 92a Bullets. He nodded back, smiling approvingly. New Old Stock. He was probably thinking to himself, “This fat fucker’s got taste!” Or, style. You’re the reader. You choose.

“Long wheelbase on that one, huh?”, he asked.

“I’m not exactly short, buddy. Wanna take it for a spin?” He politely declined a few times, worried that the loose trucks would throw him off his balance. Problem was, Moses was pretty short. So I was able to do a little bit of heavy-handed cajoling, just due to my innate hugeness.

Moses took a good, long run around the park, enjoying the roll. Then, he asked if I’d like to take a spin on his Natas?

“Oh, nooooooo, I couldn’t”, eyeing his brand-new skateboard. “It doesn’t even have its first grind on it yet!” That much was totally true; his board was as virgin as the driven snow.

Moses at Blake Davis Skatepark, Brawley, California.

Like me, he totally insisted. Well, I certainly wasn’t gonna argue too much. After all, I’d practically browbeaten him into riding mine. Turning down his offer would be in extremely bad taste. A bead of sweat rolled off my brow. I blinked. It was a draw.

But then, we still had the problem of the first grind to resolve. “You sure it’s alright, buddy?”, I double-checked. Moses nodded, “I’d be honored!” With that, I took a couple of warm-up pushes around the bowl, and waited for Moses’ kids to clear up out of the way. I was trying to be respectful of a fellow skater’s annoying little pukes. Turns out, they weren’t Moses’ kids at all, and I could have run them right on over without the least bit of remorse.

I picked a pocket that had a nice, easy line in and out of it, and laid a long one down for Moses. Man, those Surf Rodz are some pretty smooth-grinding trucks. I may have to investigate those a little bit further sometime.

Sunday, April 8th, 2018, 12:28 pm

I’m at the Borrego Springs YMCA, taking panoramics for Jeffo over at The Disciples. Getting the phone over the fence isn’t exactly the easiest thing to do… that fence is ridiculously tall… but I’m making do, while kicking myself in the ass the entire time.

Obviously, I’m not skating. That’s because the Borrego Springs YMCA isn’t open at high noon on a Sunday. Why they aren’t open at high noon on a Sunday, is way beyond me. All I know is that this park looks fan-f’n-tabulous, and all I can do is struggle to climb fences and dirt mounds to take photos of it for The Boss. If you’re keeping count, that’s Epic Fail Number Two for the weekend, out of only four skateparks visited. I hope my luck doesn’t stay at this level of “suck” for very long.

Borrego Springs feels like a mini-me Palm Springs to me. Very chic, and very hipster in places… yet very old and retirement everywhere else, with lots of ‘50s art, architecture, and rich-hippie sensibilities. The gal at the gift shop that I raided for my postcard purchases gave me a very lengthy and detailed overview of everything that I should do and see while I’m in town, but there’s no way that I had time for all that. Instead, I opted for the single most popular attraction, got some last-minute directions from the gift shop gal, and crawled into the baking greenhouse of my car to make my hasty getaway.

Left: desert serpent sculpture by Ricardo Breceda, Borrego Springs, California. Right: Peg Leg Smith monument.

They were right. It really does look like a serpent that’s crossing the road. This is one of the Ricardo Breceda sculptures that are so popular with the tourists ‘round these parts. The trendy popularity definitely has its downsides, as tourists keep cluelessly wandering into my picture frame, ruining the composition, and making a mess of everything. Damn tourists. With that, I made yet another hasty retreat, this time for far more uninhabited pastures.

Above: the dramatic views along S22 between Borrego Springs and Salton City, California

Sunday, April 8th, 2018, 1:32 pm

Salton City was supposed to be “The Next Palm Springs”, the ultimate playground for the well-to-do. The Beach Boys, The Marx Brothers, and Sonny and Cher used to come down to party on the weekends, back in the heady ’60s and ’70s heydays; to this day, the Sonny Bono Salton Sea Refuge still honors their favorite celebrity. But agricultural runoff, increasing salinity, and algae blooms have killed most of the living beings in and around the sea. The last time I checked, only the maggots and the Tilapia remain. It may not be the nicest travel destination in the world. But, hey, at least there aren’t any tourists here.

Abandonment. Desert Shores, California.

It’s been about four years since I first visited Johnson’s Landing in Salton City. In that time, various water reclamation acts have diverted the gray water that used to sustain the Salton Sea toward the metropolises of San Diego and Los Angeles. As a result, the sea has started to slowly evaporate away. I had heard the news, so I shouldn’t have been too terribly surprised. But seeing it firsthand still made the tangible reality truly shocking.

Above: the view of the Salton Sea from Johnson’s Landing in Salton City, California.

I park the trusty EconoCamper right at the end of the jetty that used to break the water’s edge. Except the water’s edge is no longer here; it’s now a fifty, maybe sixty yard hike across a salt-encrusted plateau. I take in a deep breath in preparation for what was supposed to be a long, sad sigh, remembering just a little too late that the Salton Sea smells a hell of a lot like a used urinal cake, and retch the air right back out. Overhead, a couple of adventurous chaps are flying around in their motorized parasails, and I shoot a few photos from what used to be the shoreline. Maybe everything about the situation stinks just a little bit less up there.

Paragliders and art randomness, Salton City, California.

The Buried Boat along Brawley Ave and even more art randomness, Salton Sea Beach, California.

Sunday, April 8th, 2018, 2:52 pm

I’m standing in the shadows of the International Banana Museum in Mecca, California, enjoying a brief respite from the scorching afternoon sun. Directly in front of me is a giant stuffed cartoon banana, guarding the gate entrance. It’s working remarkably well; I’m really hesitant to go inside. He seems to be smirking at me, in a creepy-clown sort of way, enticing me with his innocence, but still managing to look uncomfortably maniacal. But my curiosity is killing me; what in the world is an “International Banana Museum”, and what in the hell could be in there…?

Finally I found my strength, and bolted on inside, right past my stuffed-banana nemesis. The immediate relief is refreshing; the air-conditioning inside is crisp and cool, and I didn’t die. However, the stench of banana permeates everything in here. I look left, right, up, and down, and I don’t see a single banana (of the fruit variety) anywhere in sight. What I do see are thousands of trinkets, miniature toys, statues, packages, and wrappers with banana themes. It’s stinky, yet creepy at the same time.

I stop at the counter, and ask how much a plain vanilla milkshake is, because I really don’t like bananas that much. The lady in the banana-theme looks at me as if she’s gonna stab me in the neck, and reluctantly gives me my plain-vanilla ice-cream price. I decide to purchase banana-themed postcards instead with the last four dollars in my pocket. 

Sunday, April 8th, 2018, 3:47 pm

Tanks baking away in the desert. General Patton Memorial Museum, Chiriaco Summit, California

Sunday, April 8th, 2018, 4:04 pm

I just stepped into a literal skateboarding heaven out here on the high desert. Once again, I spotted it out of the far corner of my eye as I was bolting down the highway breakneck speeds. It was so tasty sweet that I might have caused a ten-car wreck standing all over the brakes to make my illegal u-turn, just so I could double straight back and thoroughly scope out my sudden skateboarding mirage. Thankfully, there aren’t too many cars out here. Maybe one guy flipped me off from five miles away. It was way worth the risk.

Every half-mile or so, there are culverts that steer flash-flood waters under the interstate. If they weren’t there, the sudden downpours would simply inundate the roadway, causing miles of underwater driving coupled with unpredictably strong currents. It wouldn’t be completely out of the question for the sudden deluge to simply wash the freeway away, if it was severe enough… and even out here in the high desert, that’s still possible from time to time. Most of these culverts have ditches approaching them that turn, slow, bend, and re-direct the water perpendicularly under the roadway, so that the bridges can be as short and as stout as possible. Most of these ditches are made of small boulders, and shaped by sand and gravel. This one, however, is the only one I’ve seen so far that is lined with concrete.

The ditch isn’t particularly big, height-wise. It’s only three to four feet tall, maybe even a little smaller in the shallower sections. However, in terms of its horizontal footprint, it is massively huge. It takes about a month of Sundays to get from one end to the other. Best of all: it’s not even all that dirty. My big, industrial-sized broom has a skateable section all cleaned up and ready to shred in just a few minutes. There’s not a soul to be seen out here for miles, and the nearest cop is probably fifty miles away. I park right next to it, and walk straight in- no fences, no gates, no hassles, and no worries. It’s the ultimate in extremely convenient, no-bust skate situations. So I stay close to an hour, milking it for all it’s worth, all by my lonesome.

Sunday, April 8th, 2018, 6 pm

I see him, just as I’m approaching the Blythe, CA skatepark. He’s a bronze statue of a skateboarder, riding some janky plank; the same exact statue that graces the entrance to Quartzsite’s skatepark, about forty miles away. I glare at him through narrowly squinting, my dust-caked eyelashes, while he laughs in a macabre sort of manner in return. I don’t trust this kid. Because every time I see him, I have to endure a shittier-than-usual skatepark.

I strolled up the wavy-gravy walking path… they clearly put a lot of thought and effort into completely inconsequential elaborations when they built this thing… and finally got the eyeful of suck that I had suspected. Yes, it was all concrete… and normally, that would be a great thing. But the mini ramp had no coping, the handrails were bent in strange ways, and the useless-sized, 1′ deep by 3′ wide “snake run” was half-filled with puke-green water, sludge, and slime, because some f’n goofball forgot to install the drain. The only thing that looked even remotely skateable was the shiny, thick-painted red curb that ran all around the periphery of the park. When the unintentional skate obstacle becomes the best thing in the whole park to skate, then we have a very real problem on our hands.

“That’s strange”, I thought, glancing back at the “snake run”. “It shouldn’t rain that regularly out here.” Being square in the center of a desert, you’d think that this small volume of water would have evaporated away eons ago.

There were a couple of BMXers sitting on the edge of the ramp. No worries; I didn’t intend on skating it that much anyway. But I wanted to skate something while I was here. But, what…? I decided I’d figure it all out on my way back to my car to put away my camera gear, and grab my skateboard.

I had only walked a few feet when, out of nowhere, I heard something that sounded like fire hoses erupting, and the two BMXers scrambling and screaming their heads off. I whirled around, and saw that every sprinkler in every baseball field around the skatepark had sprung to life… and they were all aimed at the skatepark, inundating everything in their target area. Including the snake run (that would explain it), the mini ramp, and the BMXers.

That was my third and final epic fail of my weekend. I’d had enough of this sort of silliness. It was time to call it a weekend, toss in the towel, and make my way home.

And The Road Goes On:
Arcosanti
Saturday, June 30th-Sunday, July 1st, 2018
By Bud Stratford

It’s been a long and busy couple of months that have, frankly speaking, included far too much work, and far too little play. Last month, I happened upon a neat little urban experiment called Arcosanti while I was on my Camp Verde-Sedona-Cottonwood-Clarkdale round trip. At the time, I didn’t have quite enough money, nor quite enough time, to really explore the place enough to do it suitable justice. A couple weeks later, I got a marketing e-mail from Arcosanti inviting me up for a dinner-and-concert combo, with a deal on overnight accommodations tossed in for good measure. It was an offer that would be almost impossible to refuse, so I decided straight away that I wasn’t even gonna try to refuse it. I promptly booked my solitary weekend getaway, and made my plans and my itinerary for a wild weekend of hard-earned rest and relaxation.

“Arcology, a portmanteau of ‘architecture’ and ‘ecology’, is a field of creating architectural design principles for very densely populated, ecologically low-impact human habitats.”

                                                                                                                                                   -from Wikipedia

The premise of the place is really pretty simple. Arcosanti is, above all else, intended to be a working experiment to study the feasibility of “arcology”. Put much more simply: it’s an effort to build tangible proof that mankind can exist in a far more harmonious manner with our natural surroundings, as well as with each other. It’s a study of truly sustainable living, via an artistically engineered environment where everybody has exactly what they need to not only survive physically, mentally, and emotionally… but to thrive, while minimizing our environmental footprint to the smallest exposure possible. Arcosanti was designed in the late 1960’s, and built throughout the 1970’s and the 1980’s, long before these sorts of concerns became an integral part of our mainstream consciousness.

The fact that the Arcosanti concept was so forward-thinking, and quite ahead of it’s time, isn’t quite immediately striking at first exposure; that frank fact only reveals itself with a little bit of preemptive research. That, right there, is why geeks and nerds rule the world, kids. Because research brings an understanding of causes, effects, and context.

And yes, that sort of stuff still matters. Especially when you’re out exploring the world around you, trying to figure out the finer points of life.

“Arcosanti is a projected experimental town in Yavapai County, central Arizona, 70 mi north of Phoenix, at an elevation of 3,732 feet . Its arcology concept was posited by the Italian-American architect, Paolo Soleri (1919–2013). He began construction in 1970, to demonstrate how urban conditions could be improved while minimizing the destructive impact on the earth. He taught and influenced generations of architects and urban designers who studied and worked with him there to build the proposed town.”

                                                                                                                                                   -from Wikipedia

This is a skateboard periodical, of course. So, naturally enough, I used my “job requirements” as a sly excuse to also schedule a bit of skateboarding in my travels to and fro. The recent acquisition of a matching pair of Skaterbuilt OG Pigs made that deal a little bit sweeter than it otherwise might have been, and gave me a bit more incentive to go outside, wreck shit, and destroy myself. And that, right there, is why skateboarding still kicks ass, even well into my mid-forties.

I had more of that tedious and dreaded “work” to do on Saturday morning, so I wasn’t in a position to leave town until right around noon. The pleasant surprise of the weekend was that I would be carrying a virtual date (of sorts) around in my pocket all weekend long in the form of Trish, a pretty remarkable gal that I had to reluctantly put off meeting in person on account of my previously scheduled road-tripping adventures.

Feeling like a bit of a heel for delaying our first meeting for a couple of days, I asked if maybe she’d like to stay in touch (via text) over the weekend; in return, I’d be more than happy to send back the photos and the quick-hit news bits of my misadventures along the way. Surprisingly, she was more than ready and willing to be my spirit companion on this trip, which is something that never, ever happens in my weird world. Unsurprisingly, she ended up being infinitely better company than a quite a few of my recent, real-world dates. With that pre-date in perpetual play for the weekend, I deftly kicked the car into gear, and headed straight outta Dodge.

Left: Anthem Veterans Memorial, just across the way from the skatepark. Right: my virtual date for the weekend, Trish. She totally had me (without a word) with those big, brown eyes…

The first stop was at Anthem Skatepark to break in those brand new pigs. That was some fun f’n “work”, right there; thank God for Davo’s foresight to make such epicly slashing skate planks.

Anthem features a large amoeba bowl, and a dozen (or so) flat banks that make up the bulk of the “street” area… which was pretty much skatepark perfection, considering that the real takedown target of the weekend was an easy ten miles’ worth of ditches on the north side of the Phoenix Metro that I was planning on barging into, and beating up.

Anthem Skatepark

The lack of scooters was a really refreshing departure; the baking high noon high temperatures must have kept them in their air-conditioned poof pads while the real men of the world got their shit put down proper. The rail-grabbing frontside carves were a lot of fun, even on Trackers, which took a little bit of getting used to for an old Independent purist. But those beasties do actually turn, and they even turn fairly quickly (much to my immediate amazement) for being the big and beefy 219’s that they are.

The wheelbite, however, wasn’t nearly as fun as the carving was. That unforeseen character quirk scared the shit straight outta me, and sent cold shivers all up and down my spine. It was absolutely horrifying; when an 81a wheel grabs the underside of a board, it’s a bit like stomping on the brakes, and realizing just how brutally effective they can be as your head flies straight through the windshield. I made a real quick mental note to stay a little more centered during my real-world ditch mission, because some unexpected wheelbite at just the wrong time, place, and speed in one of those bitch ditches could very well spell the end of our favorite fatass.

Time for pie (again) at the Rock Springs Cafe. Fatty’s jealousy must be raging right about now…

Top: Arcosanti from the beginning of the washboard road. Bottom: random art awesomeness at Arcosanti’s entrance gate, with a high plains backdrop

The road to Arcosanti is long, dusty, rutted, and rugged. The washboard damn near shook the last of the nuts and bolts right out of the Econobubble. But once I arrived, it quickly became well worth the adventure. The staff was beyond friendly and accommodating. It felt a lot more like joining a small and exclusive family of enviro-idealists then simply showing up for a dinner date and a dance. They pointed out that I had arrived more than early enough to join the 5 pm tour of the facilities; that the pool is open all night; and that I was welcome to park right in front of my room for the evening. I decided to walk my way around, because they also advised that my small room was a mere five minutes away by foot. What they didn’t advise, however, was that it was halfway down a super-steep mesa. Or so it seemed to my tar-encrusted lungs, at least.

Left: a selection of the famous Soleri bronze bells in the Arcosanti gift shop. Top right: a Paolo Soleri original sketch (circa 1977). Lower center and lower right: a bronze ladle holder and bronze tile from the Arcosanti foundry

Left: densely packed living space at Arcosanti lives in harmony with the scenescape. Upper right: my guide for the evening tour. Lower right: spontaneous art at The Vaults

I’m the biggest journalist-slacker ever. During the course of my guided walking tour, I managed to totally forget to write down anything even remotely useful, because I was far too busy nerding out, and asking the guide fifty thousand questions along the hike in, through, and around the compound, while simultaneously texting everything that I was learning immediately to Trish. She seemed to be enjoying the trip almost as much as I was, and I quickly found myself wishing upon a star that she was right there with me, instead of half a million radar waves away.

Left: the first course (penne rigate in red sauce) was wheeled out in wheelbarrows. Top right: The Vaults, post-festivities. Lower right: the second course 

Dinner was held in the giant arches of The Vaults promptly at 6 pm; due to our guide’s diligence, we were almost right on time. The penne rigate was delivered by wheelbarrow for the guests to be served; the wheelbarrows represented the never-ending creation and construction that defines the nature of Arcosanti itself. Every table had a luscious sampling of wines, fruits, and antipasto… but the only thing that was within arm’s length of my bubble butt was a single lump of cibatta. I took prompt hold of it as if it was a priceless plunder; lunch was a quickly fading memory, and all of that skating at Anthem and hiking around Arcosanti had made me one starvin’ Marvin.

Everyone else at my table, and at every other table in The Vaults, seemed to know each other already. It looked like a room full of old friends had congregated for a long-anticipated reunion. They were busy animatedly laughing the time away while they shared their stories, experiences, and lives… but all of a sudden, I realized that I didn’t know a single soul. And here I was, sitting alone at the end of a sparsely populated dinner table, with nobody to talk to at all, and nothing to enjoy except my single lump of crusty bread. It was a little bit disheartening.

Suddenly, a vibration in my pocket reminded me that Trish was right there, impatiently awaiting my next report. I sent a pic of my balsamic-marinated chicken with roasted peach, my side salad piled high with fresh greenery, and my rapidly disappearing cibatta; she replied that her heart was wishing that she could have been there with me, too, enjoying the evening, the festivities, and my company.

I might have been sitting all alone at dinnertime, but at least I wasn’t lonely anymore. Having somebody there in spirit always beats not having anybody there at all.

Left: The Accordionist. Right: more random art from my Rock Springs pie-munching expedition 

My suspicions ran pretty high when it came to The Accordionist and The Baritone. Their names happened to be Nick Ariondo and Gregario Gonzalez, respectively… but I prefer the way “The Accordionist and The Baritone” sounds, so that’s what they shall remain to you and me.

Now, believe me on this one: I’m not the sort of fickle fellow that lives to spend my chill time listening to this sort of fluffy stuff. But my God, these guys were really funny, and massively entertaining; I was a certifiable fan after just a few bars of their extremely gregarious introduction. They descended the left stairwell, gesturing wildly and singing way beyond the tops of their lungs; they proceeded to deliberately make their way through the entire crowd, introducing themselves to every single attendee by song, verse by verse and chorus by chorus, until they made their way through the throng, back to center stage, where they took their places in front of their microphones (which they barely needed), neatly surrounded by their little sound-amplifying moat.

Trish simply could not believe her eyes and her ears when I sent her that field report. Even though I was the chap that was sitting right there in the high seats of the amphitheater… clearly present and fully accounted for in the crowd… I was still having a really hard time believing it, myself. I simply could not recall the last time I had been so thoroughly entertained by anyone, or anything.

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. There was a glowing blue solar-light art display sprawled out in the Verde Valley that I watched slowly fade to darkness from the tall bay window that fronted my little bedroom; that distraction alone took up quite a bit of my scheduled slumber time. Then, to make matters even more unbearable, my fan struggled to keep the hot and stifling air moving around my room; when it finally caught up to the task, it ended up freezing my feet out. There just weren’t enough pillows in the world to make up for that mattress of infinite firmness that I was trying to sprawl my big ‘ol Buddha belly on to.

But none of these things were the things that were keeping me awake. What was really keeping me up was the excitable anticipation of a hastily scheduled phone call from somebody special that finally rang me out of my uncomfortable slumber right around midnight.

Ten seconds after I hung up the phone, I was fast asleep.

It’s way too fucking early for this shit. The walls are unusually thin, and my neighbors have suddenly decided to exercise a little bit of physical passion at half past five in the morning. And here I was, the less-than-lucky dude that had the front-and-center seat to every literal blow by stroking blow that came knocking through the walls of my austere surroundings. They sounded like they were having a really great time, and I suppose I could have commended them for that… but I certainly wasn’t having half as much fun as they were, so I felt like I shouldn’t have to listen to these sorts of shenanigans. Especially when the object of my immediate desire was far out of reach, tucked away neatly inside my telephone. So, out of sheer frustration, I got up, started my day, and decided to hit the pool instead. Any action, I figured, would be far better than no action at all.

That ended up being an even worse idea than the freak-fucking that was happening back in the next-door hotel room. Holy shit, that pool was frigid; diving straight into a bowl of ice cubes will wake your ass straight up first thing in the morning, and shrink your nuggets into some warm corner of your swimming shorts. It wasn’t particularly pleasurable… but it did jolt me fully awake and alert, which I desperately needed. There was, after all, a bit of a ditch mission to finish up and put to bed, and ditches don’t like to impatiently lay in wait forever.

The first of the many on my Sunday morning ditch mission. The Skaterbuilt OG gives scale to just how deeply scored these ditches were. The authorities have their anctics; Abec 11 has the antidote.

Clearly, The Authorities had gone well out of their way to “skate-proof” these otherwise fine examples of water-diversion infrastructure. What they don’t know, however, is that there is really no such thing as “skate deterrence”. The very best thing that they could ever dream of might be “slightly skate inconvenienced”… and even that fairly limited goal can be readily reduced to a steaming pile of sheep shit by a smart man with a diabolical plan. Sure, they may have had a really sharp (and heavy) rake to score those wet concrete walls with, creating an extremely rutted and abrasive “skate-proof” surface… but I had Davo and Chappy in my back pocket, so I’d already won by default. Even if The Authorities would have no way at all of knowing it.

Armed with a Skaterbuilt Beasty, those 219’s… and most importantly of all, two sets of fresh 65mm, 81a No Skools… I silently took up the challenge, and dared those fuckers to “skate proof” my fat ass. I had the power of the roll behind me; they had nuthin’ but virgin ‘crete for me to pillage and plunder. The war was already won by default; it was just a matter of figuring out how one-sided the turkey shoot was gonna be.

Big, small, long, short… they come in all kinds of shapes and sizes. And boy, were they clean. The water runs fast through here; I barely picked up my broom all morning long.

Seven ditches was the take; the cost was a mere three hours of my early Sunday morning. There wasn’t a cop to be found for miles; victory was complete and uncontested. Sure, the cheese-grater consistency of the concrete is a little daunting at first; the easy way out of that sort of fear is to drop your fat nuggets, step up your A-game, put your skills to some good use, and simply refrain from falling. At the end of it, I figured out that 65mm 81’s roll over cheese-grater concrete much like 55mm 101’s might roll over a little bit of irritatingly rough asphalt. It was a literal breeze.

That’s the sort of pertinent experience that only punk rock experimentation can yield. Suddenly, I realized that I’d found the key to unlocking every single ditch in the Southwest, no matter how “skate-proofed” they may be. The future looked really bright. And that bright future reminded me to take my morning telephone break.

“The farther you go, the more you know”. The farther I went, the smoother the ditches became. The one on the right was rolling perfection. All you jealous people…

I text-tussled Trish out of bed around nine, with a witty weekend update about my uber-successful ditch mission. Trish is a really smart cookie; she immediately demanded pictures, or it didn’t happen. So being the doting boyfriend that I had quickly and quietly been anointed over the past twenty-four hours, I huffed, puffed, and hiked my ass straight back into the fray to shoot a few for her enjoyment; a little exercise, after all, is never all bad for a former smoker.

She surprised me by asking me in her reply where I’d parked the car, and how to get into the action. One look at the text, and she decided that she might want to start exploring some empty ditches, too. Turns out, Trish is an avid urban explorer. Well, go figure. There was yet another common interest on top of the several-dozen common interests we’d already shared over the long weekend.

Most women think that this kind of stuff is completely nuts. To Trish, it all sounded like a whole buncha fun. I decided, right then and there, that I might have a keeper on my hands.

Very few skaters will ever figure this sort of shit out for themselves, and that’s just too damn bad. Skaters used to be an inventive and intrepid lot; now, they’re more than happy to be spoon-fed little-league “street” trickery. Yet the ditches are all right there, out in the open desert, glistening brightly in the sun, almost completely devoid of dirt or debris, just laying in wait for some super-smart skater to step out of the sheeple steeple, and stumble straight into their skateboarding salvation. Everything else is all flow-and-go from there.

Please click here, or hit your back button to return to the Contents page

Update, Saturday, June 9th, 2018, 12:00 pm: This article has had a few key additions/corrections since it was originally written on Friday morning. Those have been noted in the article by asterisks, as such*: 

It’s been a hell of a couple of weeks. In case you’ve been living in a cave since late May, here’s the shitshow summary: one of The Slap Messageboard members (Gentle Jones) accused Jason Jessee of harboring long-standing racist tendencies; Vice picked up the story, and stumbled all over themselves running with it; Jason’s sponsors put him on “indefinite hiatus” for his past transgressions; and then all hell broke loose all over the internet. Some people defended him, while others wanted nothing more than to see his racist ass strung up by the neck. I think that pretty much brings us all up to speed, doesn’t it…?

The problem with a story like this, is that it brings up a whole hornet’s nest of pertinent issues. As Edward Pidgeon so wisely said, “The thing is not always The Thing”. And he’s right: this shitshow goes well beyond the simple debate over whether Jason Jessee is a racist or not.

That being said, let me lay those “things” out,  front and center, in the rapid-fire succession of bullet points below:

Speaking For Myself

First of all: as always, my opinions do not necessarily reflect the opinions of my staff, our advertisers, my family, my friends, my enemies, or their damn pets or houseplants. Given the super-sensitive nature of this ongoing (and ugly) debate, I really feel like that needs to be said unequivocally.

I never thought I’d see the day when an editor would have to make such a disclaimer, but oh well. We live in perilous times, I guess.

The Noble Service That Media Can Do (If They Ever Decide To Actually Do It)

Let’s just stick it right out there: The Media in this country… skateboard, or otherwise… isn’t doing us any f’n favors by doing shitty reporting that only inflames emotions, increases tensions, and deepens divides. Yeah, it might be great “for ratings” and for getting more eyeballs on the story (which, by the way, is also really great for generating ad revenue).  But as far as “serving the public’s interests” are concerned, The Media is pretty damned useless these days.

The Media just loves to talk long and loud about “fair an balanced”, while actually demonstrating “unfair and imbalanced” at damn near every turn.

Of course, I understand that nobody likes or supports racism. I get that, and I back that. I don’t fucking support it, either.

However: this question of whether Jason Jessee is actually a sincere racist… or, merely a shit-talking punk provocateur that gets off on pushing people’s buttons and pissing them off “for shock value”… is, in this context, an entirely appropriate question to ask. Especially considering his extremely long (and well-documented) record of doing all of the above.

If the only thing that I ever achieve is in getting people to ask more thoughtful questions, make fewer jugheaded assumptions, promote reasonable and rational thinking, and demand honest answers… then maybe I’ve accomplished some small something along the way.

It might not be the most popular, or the most profitable thing to do. But it is the right thing to do. And that’s perfectly a-ok with me.

The Billion Dollar Question

So, is Jason Jessee really a racist? Unfortunately, I can’t answer that one. Not fairly, at least. And neither can anybody else*.

Only Jason Jessee can really answer that question. And he’s not exactly talking right now, now is he?

Outside of a single handwritten note, and a quick, ten-second Insta-apology, his relative silence has been pretty damn deafening.

And that deafening silence does make me a mite bit suspicious. 

* Later on Friday, June 8th… within hours of posting this piece… I got a heads-up (via my personal Facebook feed) that this video had also been posted (by “Eraserhead Fuckers”) online (on June 6th), via YouTube. While not containing any “new information”, per se… it entirely consists of photos, video, and words that have all been published online in the past… it does provide, first, the best (and most compelling) context of the “Jason is a racist” argument that I have yet seen; and, secondly, a whole host of images and words that have since been deleted from the public record. Here is the direct link to the YouTube video. 

Do I Want To Believe That He’s A Racist…?

No. Of course I don’t. And frankly speaking, neither should you.

Why, you ask? Well, for the simplest of reasons. I’d really like to believe that skateboarding, all of his sponsors (since 1987 or so), and the rest of our industry, have not been harboring a known racist… a “living skateboarding legend”, at that… for the last thirty f’n years.

I’d like to believe that we’re all better than that. That our industry is better than that. That skateboarding itself is better than that.

But that deafening silence still makes me awfully suspicious… 

What Skateboarding Needs Right Now

I’d say that what Jason Jessee should seriously be considering right now, is a 60 Minutes-style, back and forth, Q&A with a prominent, unbiased, and impartial reporter that isn’t afraid to ask some really hard questions, and demand some really honest answers.

I’m pretty sure that I speak for a hell of a lot of skaters on this one. And I really don’t think this issue will be completely shut, sealed, and delivered, until that happens.

Skateboarding deserves nothing less. Especially from a guy that claims to love skateboarding as much as he says he does.

Motivations and Agendas of The Original Poster (at Slap)

Speaking of dodging hard questions: the “Original Poster”, Gentle Jones, aka Bill Ferrell, has been just as complicit as Jason Jessee has been in opening himself up to being asked really hard questions, and giving really honest answers. 

First of all, why did he single Jason (and Santa Cruz) out? A symptom of a petty personal vendetta overtaking a purely philosophical one, perhaps?

And, what did he stand to gain in all of this (if anything)…?

I’d add that the question of whether this guy just might have had an agenda to pursue, a vendetta to execute, and an axe to grind with Mr. Jessee is, at the very least, a “more than fair question to ask”.

A couple weeks back, I actually got to ask Bill Ferrell these questions. Directly.

To this day, he has never directly answered any of them. Yet he claims (at Slap) to have nothing to hide, and to be more than happy to defend himself.

Do we hypocrite much, Bill…?

The Media Complicity Number One: Not Running The Piece

In Gentle Jones’ defense: I did note somewhere in the Slap conversation that he had tried to shop this story around to The Media, to no avail*.

So, why didn’t they run it? Did they have their own interests in burying it? Maybe they had advertisers to keep happy, and fat paychecks to look after?

I have to wonder if this story had been responsibly covered, instead of being left in the hands of an internet vigilante… if the tone (and the outcome) might have been very different.

If I had been Bill’s editor, the first question I would have asked him is this: “Okay, fine. What about all the other skaters in the world that have rocked a swastika at some time or another? Are they (and their respective sponsors) all racists, too?” I mean, if you’re gonna talk shit… you might as well go for the gusto, and really dig it all out. I’m an equal-opportunity ass-kicker, and I fully expect my staff and contributors to follow suit. What that means, in layman’s terms, is that I expect them to be fair.

The fact that he did not bring any of the other swastika-rockers into this (at least initially) only adds to my suspicions that he is not fair.

And maybe the suspicions that he is not fair, compelled The Media to respectfully decline on running his “story”.

* This assertion is factually incorrect. “Eraserhead Fuckers” (the skater that made the Jason Jessee video noted above) is the kid that wrote the draft article for Jenkem (who rejected it), and was subsequently submitted to Vice (who never responded to the submission, both as noted in the video). Gentle Jones/Bill Ferrell was neither the author of the piece, nor the guy presenting it to media. The draft article has since been functionally superseded by the video, which renders the draft article itself quite redundant.

Strange Happenings

Way back in 1987, Jason Jessee had “an altercation” with Ned “Peanut” Brown after Jason called Peanut “The N Word”. Now, when I say that they had “an altercation”, that means that Jason got his ass handed to him by Peanut. A well-deserved ass-handing, I would add. If I were Peanut, I might’ve done the same exact thing, myself.

Bill Ferrell is affiliated with Dead End Skateboards. Dead End put out a Ned Brown reissue as recently as 2015. Bill Ferrell personally wrote the press release for that reissue announcement. Bill Ferrell and Ned Brown seem to be awfully close for comfort these days.

These accusations came right on the heels of a high-profile video release by Cons, just as Jason Jessee is at the apex of a comeback.

“The Apex Of A Comeback”, of course, is always the perfect time to take a man to task, and tarnish his reputation a bit, if you truly intend to do him real personal and/or professional harm.

All of these things seem strangely coincidental to me.

The Media Complicity Number Two: The Vice Article

How, or why, the guys at Vice never looked into that Jason Jessee/Bill Ferrell/Dead End/Ned “Peanut” Brown connection will forever be a perpetual mystery to me. That was some seriously suck-ass reporting taken to a whole ‘nother level, right there.

What kind of “professional media outlet” simply overlooks the motivations of (or the coincidences surrounding) the fellow that fires the very first shot in an internet war? Or, was that “overlook” intentional…?

The Industry Reacts Badly (As Usual)

The statement from Bob Denike (of NHS) is probably the best example of this. My read on it was basically, “Look, we knew all about Jason’s spotty past. We knew he had turned his back on it, and turned his life around. We were really proud of his progress as a human being, and super supportive of it. But we’re putting him on ‘indefinite hiatus’, anyway.”

That seemed like a pretty duplicitous move to me. Sorry, Mr. Denike. That still stands.

The Industry’s silence on this has been almost as deafening as Jason’s silence has been. I mean, corporate press releases are cool and stuff. But a meaningful conversation with an actual human being would have been so much better.

The Truly Horrifying Question

That statement from Bob Denike (of NHS) also points to a truly horrifying question. One that I don’t think that Brain Surgeon Bill considered very hard, before launching his one-man internet attack. That question is, “What if we’re taking down the wrong target here…?”

There is a very fair chance here that everybody is right about Jason Jessee. That previous to 2010, he was a piece of shit, a legitimate racist, and a train wreck of a human being a multitude of levels. But, post-2010? That he is a very changed man. Perfect? Probably not. But, changed? Most definitely. By most accounts, at least.

If we really want to hasten better race relations in this country, and truly eradicate racism from our society… then we absolutely must allow for racist people to change their hearts, their minds, and their ways, and encourage that sort of personal evolution every step of the way. You are simply not going to eradicate racism by any other means.

Eradicating racism through hate, intolerance, and brute force isn’t gonna work out very well, Bill. The track record regarding that strategy’s effectiveness is truly awful. At the end of the day, that strategy only entices, empowers, and emboldens the racists of the world to double down on their own hate, intolerance and brute force. Bet ya didn’t think about that one, didya buddy?

Sure, I suppose that Bill Ferrell could demand that people are born geniuses, and never take up the flag of racism in the first place. My question is: if people were really capable of being absolutely perfect, straight out of the womb… wouldn’t we be doing it already?

If we really are becoming a lynch mob that is dead, set, and determined to take a truly changed man to task for his past errors, and take away his livelihood in the process… then that would be the ultimate of tragedies. Because we’d be ripping away one of the best incentives for instigating positive personal change: the promise of redemption.

There are plenty of real racists out there to turn around. If we’re targeting and taking down a truly changed man here, then we are woefully, and regrettably, off target.

And we just might be doing ourselves far more harm than good in the process.

The Media Complicity Number Three: Squashing Thoughtful Discourse and Dissent

King Skateboard Magazine published a really great, well-written article (titled “Primitive Progressivism”, by Kyle Beachy) that Jason Jessee, himself, asked to be removed. And with that move, my worst suspicions continue to grow…

King Skateboard Magazine obviously capitulated, and pulled the piece, in exchange for a promised interview “later”*.

This, I consider to be high treason, and credibility-fatal. The Media should never, ever back down from taking on an emerging story, and standing by well-thought-out assertions. Ever. And while I might not have agreed with everything Kyle said in his piece, I cannot say that his op-ed was not filled with well-thought-out assertions.

By stifling this sort of thoughtful discourse and dissent, we immediately compromise this whole notion of “the independent media”. And the one thing that skateboarding needs right now, more than almost anything else in the whole wide world, is a truly independent mass media.

* Thankfully, Free Skateboard Magazine stepped up to run the Kyle Beachy piece, which you can read for yourself here :

Primitive Progressivism by Kyle Beachy.

We commend Free Skate Magazine for their dedication to free, fair, and uncensored journalism. Thank you.

The Source Reacts Even Worse (There’s Some Shady Shit Going On Here)

Again: Bill Ferrell is a total f’n hypocrite on this point, too. He has also gone well out of his way to squash and silence discourse and dissent. I can personally vouch for that one, too. But I’m certainly not the only guy he’s tried to shut down recently. Seems to be a bit of a pattern there.

Hey, Bill, make a mental note here: Thou Shalt Not Fuck With The Independent Media. If you do, you might just find yourself in the same hot water as Jason Jessee.

If you were half the “professional journalist” that you claim to be, then you would know that already. 

Everybody’s Off The Record (Because Nobody Wants Their Bubble Challenged)

Here’s another thing that really ground my gears last week. It’s one thing to spit our half-baked, brittle bullshit “on the record”, all over our insular little social media cocoons, where we have total control over who says what, and how butthurt we get over it.

It is quite another matter altogether to have to actually defend those opinions in some substantive way, to the independent and adversarial press.

While everybody was more than happy to spew sewage all over the internet, I never did find one single soul that was ready and willing to have a two-way, on-the-record, no-bullshit conversation around any of these issues. Lots of off-the-records! But not one on.

Funny how that works, isn’t it…?

Here’s my advice: if you can’t f’n defend it, then don’t bother saying it.

When’s It Gonna End?

As I pointed out above, it’s not like Jason Jessee is the only pro skater to ever rock White Power or Nazi symbolism. Gentle Jones should know that, as should everybody else. 

Is every other pro skater that has ever displayed a swastika going to come under scrutiny in the public eye, and be forced to defend themselves too…? Are they going to talk? Or are they going to dodge, duck, and weave…? Lord only knows.

Fact is, there’s a whole lotta skaters that have a whole lotta ‘splainin to do. They might want to get on it before Gentle Jones and his Internet Lynch Mob come gunning for them, too. And they might want to get it done, and done quick, before we go to the Olympics, and the headlines become “The Rolling Racists Finally Make It To The World Stage!”, and the excuse for not building that spiffy new skatepark in your town becomes “The Rolling Racists Don’t Deserve It! (But The Scooter Kids Seem Awfully Sweet)”.  Yeah. You didn’t think of those unintended consequences, did you? Guess what? I did.

Need help with that “Coming To Jesus” strategy? Then read the last bullet point.

So, who got it right?

Christian Hosoi. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know: he has nothing at all to do with any of this.

Or, does he…?

Christian appeared on The Nine Club some time back. And somewhere in that interview, he started to talk at length… completely unprovoked, mind you… of the offensive nature of the “Rising Sun” imagery. How he never knew it’s significance, how he never understood the offensive nature of it. And how, when he did find out about that backstory and that history, many years later… he completely stopped using it, and instead went on a personal mission to talk about his experiences with it, both negative and positive. Negative in having used it at all. But positive in having the platform to speak out on it now, and to put past wrongs right.

That’s a great man, right there. We could all learn a lot from that guy. Because that, right there, is true leadership at work.

Bud Stratford
Executive Director,
Everything Skateboarding.

*So, you got something to say about all this? Don’t wuss out, and hide in your dark little corner of the internet somewhere with your [still waiting on JD to recommend an insult that he will not find at all insulting]*** buddies. My e-mail is still budstratford@aol.com, and I’m still on Facebook, just like I’ve always been. Man up, or f’n shut it.

(***This insult has been edited no less than three four five times now, in a vain effort to make JD happy. Some people really do thrive on being angry, I guess.)

A couple weeks back, I made a very public announcement that I would be taking an indefinite hiatus from Everything Skateboarding for “personal and professional reasons”. Those reasons were pretty specific: I had been advised that, as a consequence of spending far too much time at work (averaging between 80 and 100 hours a week, over a solid six months), sitting sedentary in front of a computer for long periods of time… my weight and blood pressure were either way up, or entirely off the charts. Doctor’s Orders were to lay off the Coke (the drink, not the drug), go outside, get back to being active, and go skate. Not the worst sort of Doctors Orders in the world, I might add. Especially that “go skate” bit.

Then, right on the heels of my announcement, something came along that absolutely torpedoed my best intentions: that damned Jason Jessee controversy. Almost immediately, I was off the skateboard, right back in front of the computer (and on the phone), chasing down an emerging story. This was definitely not the sort of “hiatus” that my Doctor had in mind, I’m sure… but, on the other hand, nobody can schedule when news breaks or doesn’t. Hiatuses can always happen later. But “news” has a really sneaky way of always happening right here, and right now. Dammit.

Now. I want to make something very, very clear here. Being in The Media is a de-facto leadership position. Whether you (or I) want to be “a leader” or not, is absolutely immaterial to the reality of the situation. It is something that just comes with the territory, and you just have to learn to live, and deal with it. For better, or for worse.

My first public call was for everybody to slow down, take a chill pill, pipe it for a minute, and engage their brains. This is not something that Overly Judgmental Americans like to do, nor is it something that comes naturally for them… but in moments of true crisis, it is still the very best advice that I could ever give. Calm, rational, and reasonable reaction to an extremely emotional and irrational situation is never, ever a losing strategy. Quite the opposite: there is an inexhaustible treasure trove of examples of instances where that “calm, rational, and reasonable” strategy has literally saved the day.

In calling for a fair, measured, and balanced approach to this “Jason Jessee is a racist” issue, I suddenly became a White Power advocate, a Nazi supporter, and a racist myself. This is pretty funny, considering that I’m Jewish, and have never supported racist tendencies in my entire life. In fact, I’m well on record of actively opposing them. While everybody wanted to jump all over a bandwagon this week to “boycott Jason Jessee” (and his sponsors), nobody seemed to give much a damn that I’ve been quietly (and consistently) boycotting Jason Jessee since 1989. But, hey, that’s exactly what happens when people literally lose their minds over an extremely emotional and irrational situation. Which is precisely why I continue to call for a calm, rational, and reasonable approach, every single step of the way.

This example of a free, fair, and absolutely independent media putting itself squarely in the path of an internet mob, bent on taking down the career and the livelihood of an accused racist, might be unprecedented. I’m not one hundred percent sure on that… I’ve been looking high and low for other examples of that happening… but in any rate, it is “pretty rare” at the very least. American Media rarely calls for a calm, rational, and reasonable approach to anything; in fact, I would argue that the exact opposite is true. American Media is usually falling all over itself to add to the hysteria; rush to conclusions; anoint itself as judge, jury, and executioner; summarily hang the accused; and then pat itself all over its own back as it counts up the reader tally and the advertising revenues. This is not “fair and balanced” at all. It is, simply put, aiding and abetting the very vigilantism that they should be working against.

In the last two weeks, we have all learned a lot. Myself, included. Jason Jessee still refuses to talk, much to my surprise and amazement, as does Gentle Jones, which does not surprise me at all. “Eraserhead Fucker” has emerged as the true author of the stories that was submitted to, and declined by, Jenkem; Vice never responded to the submission. In light of these facts, I have duly corrected (not edited) my original “Weathering The Shitstorm” piece, as any fair-minded writer should do. I still steadfastly oppose removing data… words, photos, video, or otherwise… from the public record. But addendums and clarifications are perfectly a-ok by me.

“Eraserhead Fucker” also brought a video to the forefront of the debate that does not exactly bring any “new news” to the table, in of itself… it still entirely and exclusively consists of words, photos, and video that have all been previously published elsewhere, quite publicly… but does do an undeniably excellent job of “connecting the dots”, and laying out an extremely fair, well-thought-out, and compelling case against Mr. Jessee in a calm, rational, and reasonable manner. That video has also been added to my original “Weathering The Shitstorm” piece, as an addendum to the story line.

And while I still refrain from calling Jason Jessee “a racist”, per se… that remains an accusation that I have historically refused to throw around lightly, and I still refuse to throw around lightly, for obvious reasons*… I would have to propose that his known history of “racist tendencies” is really starting to pile up, and create a very strong, reasonable, and rational public case that he does need to emerge from the shadows, and answer for directly. Hopefully, far sooner than later.

The more evidence that guys like “Eraserhead Fucker” compile, and the longer that Jason Jessee sits silent in his own defense, the stronger this “Jason Jessee is a racist” argument is going to become. While I may have a strong distaste for people jumping to immediate conclusions based in internet hysteria, I do absolutely support people slowly making their way to that conclusion based on strong research and solid evidence from credible sources. “Credible sources” being people that have no real (or perceived) vested interests in the outcomes, outside of simply doing the right thing for the sake of doing the right thing. “Eraserhead Fucker” legitimately and accurately embodies that ethos. Gentle Jones, unfortunately, still does not.

If the General Public could be trusted to consistently act as calmly, rationally, and reasonably as “Eraserhead Fucker” has, then there would be no need at all for a free, fair, and independent mass media to exist. “Eraserhead Fucker” actually embodies the aims and ambitions of the free, fair, and independent media quite well… and I told him so, directly. He’s definitely got talent and skill, and would be excellent reporter and journalist, if he ever decides to go that route. My impression is that he would much rather avoid the limelight, and move on with his plans and his life… and that’s fine. But we all owe him some small debt of gratitude, anyway. Even if we don’t agree with his conclusions, we still have to respect his methodology and his intentions.

If I could trust every internet vigilante to be as calm, fair, reasonable, and rational as “Eraserhead Fucker”** proved himself to be, then I could take my hiatus, retire tomorrow, and finally have that good, long, and relaxing rest that I’ve been trying to schedule for the last fifteen years.

But until that fantasy materializes into reality, then the free, fair, and independent mass media has to stick around. Because there aren’t very many of those left on the media horizon these days, I guess it’ll be left up to us for the time being. So long, “retirement”. It was a swell fifteen hours (or so) that I’ll always remember warmly.

Sincerely yours, I’ll see ya next month-

Bud Stratford
Executive Director,
Everything Skateboarding

* The most “obvious reason” being that, as a de-facto leadership position, it is absolutely not a media editor’s job to throw such a loaded, yet incredibly subjective, accusation at anybody. Defining what a “racist” is, and what qualities that may (or may not) embody, is the sole job of the reader– not a publisher. Never, ever forget that.

* *I would like to take a moment to thank “Eraserhead Fucker” not only for his strong and solid research; I would also like to thank him for giving me a legitimate excuse to use the word “Fucker” so many times in an introduction. Travel well, good sir, and never forget to travel lightly.

June has been an unusually awesome month for letters to the editor, and I expect that trend to continue as the month goes on. Below, you’ll find a compilation of the best of the bunch; we’ll add to the tally as more letters come in:

For anyone that might be confused right now: a few weeks back, I found the old “If She Can Do It, So Can You” Public Service Announcements (PSAs) in the Everything Skateboarding archives. These date from 2009 or 2010 (I forget, exactly), back when Everything Skateboarding was still “The Solitary Life”, and were pretty popular on the ‘ol blog (which, thanks to Photobucket deciding not to hold my photos hostage any longer, you can now see here).

Excited to happen across the originals, I pulled out the old art, re-worked it to suit the new site format, and hung one of them up among the advertisements. The original PSAs… the ones I could find, at least… are below:

C’s guess that “It could be targeted at women, trying to encourage them to skate” is actually remarkably spot-on. That message is indeed aimed at girls. Thus, “If this female skater can do it, then you (as a younger female skater) can certainly do it too!” It is a show of solidarity toward women that may want to break into this male-dominated pastime of ours.

I picked historical photos to illustrate that women/girls have actually been involved in skateboarding for decades. So, having them as part of our pastime is completely normal, and nothing “new” at all.

The old blog staff included myself, AJ Kohn, Ron “Fatboy” Barbagallo, Daniel Gesmer, Michael Brooke, and Keith Gillogly- all guys with long-standing records of encouraging women to skate, and of encouraging our fellow guys to encourage the ladies. The fact that the guys are supporting the girls, and are encouraging other guys to follow our lead, is thus the point of the smaller tagline.

All apologies for any offense caused. I hope this makes abundantly clear that none was intended, and clarifies the point and the purpose behind it.

I’ll be reworking the PSAs soon enough, so that will give me a chance to eliminate any ambiguities. -B.

Just wanted to drop a line to say thank you for this very well written article (“Weathering The Shitstorm, The Jason Jessee Controversy”).  I specially loved when you brought up Hosoi as an example. When I heard The Nine Club episode (loved that episode), his explanation of the rising sun graphic made me proud to be a man in his 40’s who is still trying to skateboard. Just as reading your article made me proud to be a skateboarder!

I was very proud to be a skater in that moment, too. If anybody wants to see for themselves what JM and I are talking about, the link to The Nine Club Episode 77: Christian Hosoi can be seen here. Thanks for the letter! I appreciate it. -B.

Thank you. -anonymous

Why, you’re welcome. Not sure what you’re thanking me for, exactly… but whatever it is, you’re definitely welcome. (I suspect it was in relation to the same “Weathering The Shitstorm, The Jason Jessee Controversy” article that the previous letter-writer was responding to) -B.

The Newsletter is here to keep everyone in the Phoenix skate scene up-to-date and in-the-know about upcoming events and happenings. Below, you’ll find the June community calendar with detailed information about each event. If you have an event you’d like to add (or corrections for any of the events below), please e-mail the information to budstratford@aol.com. Thanks for supporting your local skate scene, and your local skate shops…!

Last Sunday of every month:
The Sunday Sessions

Presented by the skate shops, skate companies/brands, and the skate media of the greater Phoenix Metro area
Held at various local skateparks around the valley on the last Sunday of every month

Contact: Bud Stratford (or any local skate shop or skateboard company) on Facebook

Cost: Free for anyone to come, skate, and have fun.

Mark your calendars! The second of The Sunday Sessions will be happening on Sunday, June 24th, 2018 at Rio Vista (Peoria) Skatepark at 8866 W Thunderbird Rd, Peoria, AZ 85381.

The Sunday Sessions are intended to be free-to-attend, open skate sessions for skaters of all ages and abilities, held at the various Phoenix local skateparks on the last Sunday of every month (or Saturday evening, in the heat of the summer). The idea is to rotate them through all the local parks throughout the year, starting on the far west side, and working our way clockwise through the valley. Designed to get skaters together and to build the strength of the local skateboarding community, these events will be hosted and funded by the local Phoenix skate brands and shops, and will feature team riders, “Learn To Skate” sessions, spontaneous mini-contests here and there (for those that are competitively inclined), dork trick sessions, bar-b-ques, and prizes and giveaways from the participating brands and shops.

The goal here is to keep the community tight, and to keep skaters stoked and hyped on skating via regularly-scheduled get-togethers.

Tentative 2018 Locations Calendar:

The Sunday Sessions (Goodyear) Sunday, May 27th, 8 am *Done!

The Sunday Sessions (Rio Vista) Sunday, June 24th, 6 pm *Next up!

The Sunday Sessions (Surprise Farms) Sunday, July 29th (or Saturday the 28th)

The Sunday Sessions (Union Hills or Paradise Valley) Sunday, August 25th (or Saturday the 24th)

The Sunday Sessions (Eldorado Park/The Wedge) Sunday, Sept 30th (or Saturday the 29th)

The Sunday Sessions, Special Road Trip Weekend! Lake Havasu City, AZ, weekend of Saturday and Sunday, October 20th and 21st

The Sunday Sessions (Freestone) Sunday, October 28th

The Sunday Sessions (Pecos) Sunday, November 25th

The Sunday Sessions (Cesar Chavez) Sunday, December 30th

Every Sunday morning at 9am:
Sunday Morning Mass
At various local skateparks, 9am every Sunday
(Typically Foothills/Union Hills Skatepark, 5752 W Union Hills Drive, Glendale, AZ 85308)
Contact: Prevent This Tragedy or Adam Richards on Facebook

Skaters of all ages congregate at local area skateparks every Sunday morning in and around
Phoenix. Free for anyone to come, skate, and have fun.

Every Wednesday, 3 pm – 6pm, and 6 pm – 9pm:
All-Girls Skate Session
91 West Skatepark
8550 N 91st Ave, Unit 54,
Peoria, AZ 85345
Phone: (623) 236-3033

Open to all girl skaters, $5 per participant, this is a chance for girls of all ages to skate together. Air conditioned comfort in the summer is an added bonus.

Every Thursday, 7 pm to 9 pm, $11.00:
Old-School Skate Night
Kids That Rip (aka KTR)
1927 N Gilbert Rd, Mesa, AZ 85203
Phone: (480) 844-9600

Open to all skaters, $11 per participant, 7-9 pm every Thursday.

Every Friday Night, 7 am to midnight, Free:
Friday Night Sessions at Gobber’s
Contact: Chris Gobber via Facebook

Free weekly skate session at Chris Gobber’s private backyard skatepark. Happens most Fridays. You must do this at least once, or you just haven’t lived. Fun for all ages and abilities. Friend him on Facebook to get updates and an invite.

Genius Sk8 x Snow Presents:
Genius Summer Sk8 Series
Saturday, May 19th, 2018; Sunday, June 24th, 2018; Saturday, August 11th, 2018; and Saturday, September 8th, 2018

Held at the Genius Backyard Sk8 Park, 3002 N. Manor Drive West, Phoenix, AZ 
Times TBA, Free

To register, or for more details, visit www.genius-life.com

This is a four-date series of amateur events held at a private, backyard skatepark in Phoenix. Check the website for details…!

Cowtown Skateboards Presents:
Go Skateboarding Day Mini Ramp Jam
Thursday, June 21st, 2018.

The Pressroom, 441 W. Madison St, Phoenix, AZ 
7pm, Free

Being a Skateboarder in Arizona you probably have a love-hate relationship with Go Skateboarding Day. On one hand it’s a day that’s focused on what we all love to do, but on the other hand, it is in the middle of the brutal Arizona summer often hitting over 110 degrees. So this year with some help from Emerica and the rest of the skateboard industry we have an awesome compromise! An indoor Mini-Ramp Jam in the A/C with prizes for best trick and whatever else we decide. On top of that will be premiering Conor Holliday’s latest video “plAZa”, live music from THRA and LOSERFUR and end it all with a product toss to everyone in attendance. So join us on Go Skateboarding Day June 21st at the Pressroom in Phoenix starting at 7:00 pm. Free to attend and all ages are welcome!

Everything Skateboarding Magazine Presents:
Phoenix CitySkate 2018 Indian Bend Wash (June)
Sunday, June 17th, 2018
Meet at Chase Bank, 8999 E Shea Blvd, Scottsdale, AZ 85260
8 am to 11 am (or so), Free

The Indian Bend Wash Greenbelt is a long, smooth, paved greenway (that doubles as a flood control diversion ditch) that runs from Shea Road and 92nd Street, all the way to Tempe Town Lake, through McCormick Ranch, Chaparral Park, Camelback Park, Indian School Park, Continental Golf Course, and Eldorado Park, before continuing through Vista Del Camino Park and Rio Salado Park to Tempe Town Lake. It rolls steadily (but imperceptibly) downhill the whole way, and winds through some of the most beautiful scenicscapes in all of the Phoenix Metro.

This particular cruise is about nine miles in length, and ends at Eldorado Park, with multiple options for shorter lengths; there are bus stops at Chaparral park and Camelback Park for the less-ambitious and -adventurous of us. We get an early start, of course, to avoid the mid-day Phoenix heat.

For those that make the whole nine, the typically tired and hungry crew heads to Denny’s at 7605 E. McDowell Rd. to tank up on Grand Slams before catching the bus at the Hayden and McDowell bus stop to head back to the cars. 

All attendees should bring $2 in exact change for bus fare, plus money for the after-cruise breakfast. This cruise is open to skaters of all ages and abilities, and all are encouraged to attend. The cruise is extremely relaxing, and far less taxing than you would think, given the ambitious mileage involved.

There will be demo boards on hand, provided by our event sponsors: Carver Skateboards, Seismic Skate Systems, and Loaded Longboards.

All attendees will get “Thanks For Attending” prize packs, filled with goodies provided by our our sponsors: Concrete Wave Magazine, Carver Skateboards, Seismic Skate Systems, Loaded Longboards, Orangatang Wheels, Bamboo Skateboards, Abec 11, Concrete Disciples, along with local skate shops Scottsdale Sidewalk Surfer, Freedom Boardshop, State Rideshop, and Cowtown Skateboards.

Lifestyle Clothing Presents:
Tempe Grill and Chill
Sunday, July 15th, 2018
Tempe Skatepark at the Tempe Sports Complex, 8401 S Hardy Dr , Tempe, AZ 85284
5 pm to “lights out”, Free to chill, $3 to enter

The Grill and Chill events are always massive fun. Easygoing, relaxing, lots of good friends, great skating, and excellent times, they are not the types of events that you want to miss. Sponsored by Lifestyle Clothing, Skate True, Flo Skateboards, Spinelli’s Pizza, and Phlipseyed Clothing Company.

On Deck:
Scottsdale Sidewalk Surfer Anniversary Bash
Tentatively scheduled for Saturday, October 13th, 2018
Scottsdale Sidewalk Surfer, 2602 N. Scottsdale Rd, Scottsdale, AZ 85257
10 am to 5 pm (or so), Free

Scottsdale Sidewalk Surfer throws an anniversary bash every October to celebrate their customers and the skateboarding community. Generally an all-day event that includes a swap meet, vendors, and bands, this is a can’t-miss local event. Stay tuned for details as October approaches.

This is the definitive list of every skatepark in the Phoenix Metro. It’s in geographic order, starting at the far west suburbs and working clockwise around the city.

Buckeye Skatepark
299 N 9th St, Buckeye, AZ 85326
8 am to 9 pm every day

El Mirage Skatepark/Gateway Park
10100 N El Mirage Rd, El Mirage, AZ 85335
6 am to 10 pm every day

Surprise Skatepark/Surprise Farms Skate Park
15798-15826 N 175th Ave, Surprise, AZ 85388

Goodyear Skate Park/Litchfield
3151 N Litchfield Rd, Goodyear, AZ 85395
7 am to 10 pm every day

Dust Devil Park
10645 W Camelback Rd, Glendale, AZ 85307
5:30 am to 10 pm every day

X-Court BMX Park
6101 N 83rd Ave, Glendale, AZ 85303
9 am to 10 pm every day

91 West Skatepark
8550 N 91st Ave, 54, Peoria, AZ 85345
(623) 236-3033
91westskateparkpeoriaaz.com

Desert West Skateboard Plaza
6602 W Encanto Blvd, Phoenix, AZ 85035
5 am to 10 pm every day

Peoria Skatepark/Rio Vista Park
8866 W Thunderbird Rd, Peoria, AZ 85381
8 am to 10 pm every day

Foothills Skatepark/Union Hills
5752 W Union Hills Dr, Glendale, AZ 85308
9 am to 10 pm every day

Anthem Community Park
41703 N Gavilan Peak Pkwy, Anthem, AZ 85086
6 am to 10 pm every day

The Refuge Youth Center
401 W Deer Valley Rd, Phoenix, AZ 85027
(480) 226-2019
therefugeyouth.com

Paradise Valley Skate Park
17642 N 40th St, Phoenix, AZ 85032
8 am to 9 pm every day

McDowell Mountain Ranch Skatepark
15525 N Thompson Peak Pkwy, Scottsdale, AZ 85260

Fountain Hills Skatepark
10441 N Saguaro Blvd, Fountain Hills, AZ 85268
Open 24 hours

Eldorado Park/The Wedge
2311 N Miller Rd, Scottsdale, AZ 85257

Reed Skate Park
1631 E Broadway Rd, Mesa, AZ 85204
8 am to 10 pm every day

Fountain Plaza (New!)
417 E Southern Ave, Mesa, AZ 85204
Open daily 7 am to 10 pm

Kids That Rip – Mesa, AZ
1927 N Gilbert Rd, Mesa, AZ 85203
(480) 844-9600
kidsthatrip.com

Apache Junction Skatepark
1097-, 1135 W Southern Ave, Apache Junction, AZ 85120
8 am to 10 pm every day

AZ Grind Skatepark
8743 E Pecos Rd #136, Mesa, AZ 85212
(480) 888-0499
azgrindskatepark.com

Queen Creek Skate Park/Founder’s Park
22360-, 22426 S Ellsworth Rd, Queen Creek, AZ 85142
8 am to 10 pm every day

Freestone Skatepark
1045 E Juniper Ave, Gilbert, AZ 85234
5:30 am to 9:05 pm every day

Chandler Bike Park at Espee Park
450 E Knox Rd, Chandler, AZ 85225

The Bridge
824 W Germann Rd, Chandler, AZ 85286
(480) 326-2247
bridgeccc.com

Snedigar Recreation Center/Chandler Skatepark
4500 S Basha Rd, Chandler, AZ 85248
8 am to 10:30 pm every day

Kids That Rip Chandler/KTR Family Action Sports Center – Chandler, AZ
1050 E Pecos Rd, Chandler, AZ 85225
(480) 718-5872
www.ktr-centers.com

Copper Sky Skate Plaza
44345 M.L.K. Jr. Blvd, Maricopa, AZ 85138

Tempe Sports Complex/Tempe Skatepark
8401 S Hardy Dr, Tempe, AZ 85284
Open 24 hours

Esquer Park
2407 E McArthur Dr, Tempe, AZ 85281
6 am to 9 pm every day

Hudson Park
1430 S Cedar St, Tempe, AZ 85281
6 am to 10 pm every day

Mitchell Park Skatepark (New!)
S Mitchell Dr & 9th St, Tempe, AZ 85281

Pecos Skate Park
17010 S 48th St, Phoenix, AZ 85048
7 am to 10:45 every day

Hermoso Park
2030 E Southern Ave, Phoenix, AZ 85040
Open 24 hours

Cesar Chavez Skatepark/Cesar Chavez Park
7858 S 35th Ave, Laveen Village, AZ 85339
5:30 am to 11 pm every day

This weekend, I finally got my grubby little paws on Natalie Krishna Das’ new ‘zine project, Light & Death. I knew that it was coming… Natalie had made me well aware of that, long beforehand… and I fully expected that it would turn out really, really well. But even with my lofty expectations front and center in my mindset, I was still pleasantly surprised by the end result, anyway It is instantly one of the best (and the coolest) ‘zines on the scene, today. Keep on reading to find out why.

The ‘zine is, technically speaking, a “1/4 Format Micro-‘Zine”. But it completely defies expectations by being professionally printed (in full color throughout) on heavyweight paper stock. It is an unusually quality presentation, especially impressive considering that this is Natalie’s first outing as a ‘zinemaker. That’s Kris Yates on the cover, skating one of the the abandoned DC-7s at the Gila River Memorial Airport (formerly Williams Auxiliary Army Airfield Number 5), shot by Andrew Ruiz. The date stamp is a really neat (and creative) touch.

The opening spread sets the tone for the rest of the issue. Still in full color, there are photos, ads, drawings, and words squeezed into every conceivable corner. It’s pretty damned entertaining, with all kinds of little surprises and prizes scattered throughout.

The Kris Yates/Andrew Ruiz photos also occupy the centerspread, right where they should be. That photo on the right is really sumthin’, right there.

Light & Death has a lot of variety, including street, pools, DIYs, women, and this killer “vintage” spread featuring photos of Dave Duncan, Judi Oyama, Cindy Whitehead, Tommy Hawks, Christian Hosoi, Steve Caballero, and Lance Mountain shot by Joe Hammeke, Michael Goldman, Bruce Hazelton, John Holman, and MoFo, respectively.

Light & Death is totally free; all you’ll ever need to pay for is postage and handling, which is more than fair. If you’d like a copy of your own, hurry up and e-mail Natalie at sk8wakenat@yahoo.com (using “zine” as the subject) before they’re all gone and spoken for. Thanks, Natalie. Can’t wait to see issue two. 

Bellingham, Washington is pretty much the happiest place on Earth. Anyone you meet from the tiny Northwest town will confirm that moving there was the best decision of their life. B-Ham is full of Bernie-supporting, Kombucha-drinking, Birkenstock-wearing happy hippies. And tucked away in this liberal haven is the young Boardworks Tech Shop. Although the small Boardworks shop is easily mistaken for one of the espresso huts that line the PNW streets, it’s proven itself to be a pretty great spot.

A visual representation (art by author)

After a two hour drive up to B-Ham, I was nervous to step into Boardworks. The last time I checked out a shop for a spotlight article (back in the February issue), I found myself in the middle of a hostile standoff, trapped between a paranoid store owner and his illicit business partner. So when I walked into Boardworks, I was relieved to be greeted by a young friendly face. Nate Braks, the young dude manning the shop, was eager to find out what I was looking for.

Clockwise from lower right: Nate hard at work; the storefront; Nate, geared up to get down; Claudia’s seal of approval.

I expressed to Nate that I’m a pretty inexperienced skater: I have a pool board, but I want to be able to street skate like all of my much cooler friends. Nate was beyond helpful! Instead of pointing me straight to a board I should buy, Nate started by explaining how boards are set up differently according to the type of skating you’re doing. He explained the hardness scale used for wheels and how board shape is oftentimes more for style than function. My poolboard, for example, may simply be wide and directional, but that doesn’t mean it’s exclusively for cruising. This brings me to the first of three “Claudia the Intern’s rating scales.”

Per Nate’s request, I brought my board in from the car. In his opinion, the board was a little stylized, but it would be perfectly fine to try to get into transition skating. He pointed out some fancy trucks and new wheels that I might be interested in, but ultimately suggested that I stick with what I had. “Man, I wish I could sell you something,” Nate joked. Not only did he not push product on me; he proceeded to recommend a different skate shop nearby, which would have a better selection of wheels if I changed my mind. While some would call this a dumb business move, I saw it as a sign of a good skateshop: one that values people as skaters first, and sales opportunities second. This brings us to my second, thoughtfully articulated rating scale:

Nate also pointed me to some cool skateparks around town, including one on the nearby Lummi tribe reservation. This one, Nate said, is usually pretty empty. “Great!” I exclaimed. “I don’t like to skate at a busy park. I’m pretty bad, so I feel like there’s judgement, or like I’m in the way.” I laughed, expecting Nate to agree. Busy parks are intimidating! And skate culture can feel pretty exclusive at times. But Nate looked surprised, and in a moment of grandfather-level wisdom, said, “I wouldn’t worry about that. All skaters were at that stage at some point.” This brings me to my final scale:

Although they have their fair share of conventional skateboards, Boardworks Tech Shop specializes in splitboards and longboards. If you don’t already know, splitboards are cool as hell. (Nate Braks will confirm this.) Boardworks has a YouTube channel showing off their downhill skate team as well as their workshop. If you check it out, you can watch Johnny Lupo, the shop’s owner, explain how he cuts snowboards in half to create custom splitboards.

Boardworks puts out a ton of video work, ranging from in-depth product reviews…

… to event and team rider videos…

… to full-length promo videos. Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy…!

So if you’re in town, check out the skateshop that’s doing its part to make Bellingham an even cooler place. They’ve got Claudia the Intern’s stamp of approval.

Our luck with a dormant and warm winter has come to an abrupt end as February turns to March, the late season storms finally began dumping their pristine powder on the Salt Lake Valley and our surrounding mountains, causing snowsport enthusiasts to rejoice and rush for the resorts. We exhausted our efforts shoveling spots and searching for covered possibilities until one bright soul among us suggested a trip west to California, where a 70-degree sun shines its warming rays on endless spots at hand. After scrambling to get work covered and funds together, four of us made it happen with short notice, each hoping to come back to snow-laden Utah with a few clips to cap off the filming for our parts in Natural Cause Productions’ next full length, Probable Cause.

We headed out early from Salt Lake Thursday morning, leaving behind frigid temps and impending snowstorms. We were eager to reach Long Beach in time to check into our hotel and catch a session at a nearby spot or park. Twelve hours later, we found ourselves scavenging at a random grocery store in Long Beach, hoping to find groceries that would sustain us for the next three days. I opted for a bundle of freakishly small bananas, PB&J makings, a can or two of chili, and a pack of GreatValue chocolate chip cookies. That, right there, would end up being my 5-star breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the next few days.

After checking into our hotel and eating some delicious spaghetti D.J. volunteered to chef for us, we headed to the nearby Gumbiner Skate Park, a tiny park inserted randomly on a city block with a perfect flatbar and ledges. A session under the lights ensued with some locals as we thoroughly enjoyed the warm ocean humidity.

We went back to our room and crashed early after a sweaty session at the Gumbiner Park, stoked to open our eyes the next day in a brand new city.

We had our eye on spots we hoped to skate as we rolled through downtown Long Beach the night before, so we got up early and headed into the heart of the city, optimistic about our chances of skating something sick.

In the process of this frantic spot search, something traumatic happened.

We were stationary on a city corner as thick traffic rushed through the busy intersection before us, with crowded city and court buildings looming all around. Riley and I had an ongoing game of SKATE that was unfinished, so we decided to resume it on the wide sidewalk while the others decided what spot they wanted to skate. Riley slipped out on his turn, shooting his board into a cop car parked in front of the courthouse-looking building. Thinking this was pretty funny, I try my kickflip and also slip out as my board shoots into heavy traffic, and time seems to shift into slow-mo as I watch my board narrowly, but thankfully, miss the first two vehicles bound to snap it in half.

Seemingly, out of nowhere, a speeding bullet bike materializes and horrifically mashes my deadly skateboard, the rider almost falling to the ground in the middle of the intersection at high speed. Miraculously he rode it out, pulling over some 100 yards down the street to turn around and give me what was likely a death-stare through his dark tinted visor. An erratic and angry female driver made a point to stop in the middle of the road after this scene unfolded to remind me of my negligence, but I was too busy trying to tell the stuntman bicyclist down the street how sorry I was for being an idiot. A lawyer-lady rushed out of the building as this chaotic scene unfolded, and thought one of us had gotten hit by a car. After explaining what happened, she said that we should probably just leave; I was already skating the opposite direction down the sidewalk, anyway, so I figured that was good advice. I was shook for the rest of the day!

Afterwards, we rolled around the city and mostly got kicked out of perfect skate spots. That was to be expected on a Friday at noon, but we had to try anyway. We made a quick pit stop at the Long Beach airport to pick up Luigi, who had overcome a bout of nausea and decided to come and join us at the last minute.

After short deliberation, we found ourselves headed to Griffith Park outside of LA, a huge nature park that we got lost in more than once as we drove around the massive park for a good while in search of the secluded spot, even passing a lone Wile E. Coyote who seemed to smirk at us as we passed him. Two park rangers kicked us out the first spot we happened to find in the park, referring us to “the better spot” up the way where we wouldn’t be messed with. We thanked them for their guidance and proceeded towards the right zone, where we were stoked to have an uninterrupted session as the Cali sun set over the hill and shot golden rays through the many trees in the park. Soon, I began my onslaught of breaking boards and not landing tricks, first taking mine out, and then one of Luigi’s. Bigspin boardslides plus a skinny bank-to-ledge will normally equal a broken board, and that’s exactly what happened. I was content to sit in the soft grass afterwards, and watch my friends make fools of themselves as dusk set in, eventually grabbing D.J.’s cruiser and bombing the long and narrow banked drainage ditch that makes the spot so fun.

We woke up early the next morning to raindrops on the windows, and a gloom of gray over the city, with on and off rain in the forecast throughout the day. Dismayed, but still determined, we quickly ate our continental breakfast and headed out into the gray, optimistic about our chances of finding something dry to skate as the rain began to cease. We found a school that was rumored to have perfect ledges and benches, so we scaled the schoolyard fence well before noon and found the buttery benches, getting a good hour or so of skating until the misty rain returned its relentless drizzle that would dampen the rest of our day.

With no knowledge of covered street spots, we reluctantly went and sessioned the Vans Indoor Park, which happened to have an all-girls bowl competition going at the same time. They were ripping! The park was packed and sweaty, so we went to a nearby bowling alley and embarrassed ourselves there since it was still raining heavily. Sunshine was on our minds as we went to sleep that night, hoping for a Sunday filled with clear skies.

The next morning, the nine o’clock sun found us tossing skates over a schoolyard fence, the ground just beginning to dry after constant raining throughout the night and early morning. We mashed to the center of the school to find a perfect 3 block and handrail. It rested in the shade of a taller building and the ground still hadn’t dried, so I continued a solo exploration of the campus and found a wall to crawl on while the dawgs searched for anything that would help to dry up the buttery spot.

Luigi blasted this 360 flip before the spot had fully dried, so I forced him to bless us once more with his photogenic flick and he handled it with style that is all his own.

Luigi Arellano hangs in space above a properly hucked 360 flip. Photo by Natural Cause Productions

This little rail next to the 3 block was fun, but a little too quick and steep for my liking. That didn’t stop Riley and Jake from throwing down on it before I had even gotten a warm-up boardslide on it though. “Quick and steep” must be music to Riley’s ears, because he banged this FS Smith grind first try along with a barrage of tricks to follow. Next spot!

They say patience is a virtue; Riley shucked that advice and banged this first try FS Smith as the spot began to dry. Photo by Natural Cause Productions.

After a run-in with a displeased church woman protecting her sacred grounds, we pulled up to another school and got some lines on more perfect butter benches that are so foreign to us Utah skaters. Ledge lines are not my favorite, and once I finally landed my line I lounged on the steps of this random elementary school while drinking an IPA, watching Jake and Riley try their lines. Luigi convinced me to play stall-SKATE on the bottom step, so we preoccupied ourselves with this until everyone was satisfied at the spot.

Even in high school I struggled to get to class by 9:30, but not this day. Wall bash in the open schoolyard under the clock. Photo by Natural Cause Productions. 

With light fading we headed back to our hotel, opting to relax by the river right next to it. We quickly decided, however, that one final exploration through downtown LBC was in order. We crossed the bridge that went over the river, then bombed down the other side into the city while testing our manuals on the rough asphalt, feeling the hollow ground beneath the bridge under our wheels. We rolled up to the most perfect curved marble ledge that I’ve ever laid my eyes upon; it would’ve been a no-go during the day, and I could’ve skated it for hours. The pace of the night-mash didn’t call for this though, and the dawgs were pushing full speed down the street onto the next spot long before I would’ve liked to.

The city is a blast to push through at night, lit up with numerous lights and tons of little spots. We skated through the surprisingly empty streets for a long while, eventually finding a Denny’s to eat at. On our way back from the city Luigi and I raced back down the other side of the bridge into the parking lot of our motel. He might’ve beaten me, had I not stuck my arm out and blocked him from passing me as a speed wobble threatened to pitch me.

Sitting in a cubicle at work, far away from the LBC, I realize now that that last night skating through the city embodies everything I love about skateboarding and traveling: a constant sense of adventure and uncertainty that is heightened by the hype of your homies. Pushing through late night city streets, with only the constant roar of urethane on asphalt interrupting the the “yips!” and “yeeeewwwwwss!”, the only thing that matters is the sense of accomplishment after embarking into a new city, conquering spots, and getting clips.

Our brief hiatus in the sunshine state was a memorable one. Of course, there will always be missed tricks to go back for and spots that weren’t skated… but the main point behind it all is to get out and skate with your crew, create memories that will last, and maybe land some shit along the way. And if you don’t, that’s okay; all the more reason to go back with your friends, and do it all over again!

And The Road Goes On:
Camp Verde and Cottonwood, Arizona
May 5th-6th, 2018
by Bud Stratford

Last month, I took another of my ambitious regional road trips around central Arizona- this time to Camp Verde, Sedona, Cottonwood, Clarkdale, Jerome, Chino Valley, and Prescott. It was a pretty relaxing, mellow trip, punctuated with lots of diversions, history, and local lore. As always, I’ve written (and illustrated) around my quick-hit photo-journal of the many skateboarding-related misadventures I lived last weekend. Enjoy…!

Photos, left to right: Rock Springs Cafe, home of the best pie ever; the proof of that lofty pie claim (eat your heart out, Fatty); John Deere 60-Series, illustration by the author. 

I started the weekend off right with The Breakfast of Champions at the famous Rock Springs Cafe in Black Canyon City. Most people would sensibly opt for the scrambled eggs, or the biscuits and gravy… but not me! Nope, I went straight for the goods: the famous pies, with vanilla ice cream on the side. Yes, for breakfast; I’m not scared of a little unhealthy livin’, nosiree. I even doubled down, and bought two bags of Churro Nuggets… which are basically caramel-candy-covered corn pops… at the farmers’ market next door. FTW…!

Photos, left to right: the historic gas station at Rock Springs Cafe; the namesake freshwater springs at Rock Springs.

The freshwater springs were a beautiful diversion from my diabetes-cultivating mission. Apparently, they have concerts up here on a pretty regular basis. I made a quick mental note to check one of those out sometime with a hottie on my arm. The make-out opportunities might just make such an endeavor totally worthwhile.

Photos, left to right: Arcosanti, an urban experiment; bronze bells (made on-site at Arcosanti’s foundry) in the gift shop showroom.

Arcosanti takes a little bit of ‘splainin. Concieved in the 1970’s as an experiment in sustainable, off-the-grid urban living, it’s strangely located way out in the boonies just northeast of Cordes Junction. Envisioned as an oasis that might house up to 5000 people, it currently houses less than a tenth of that number. It’s quite a place, though, with functional, yet beautiful, architecture; a mini-museum that honors Paolo Soleri, the visionary founder and steadfast “arcology” proponent; a high-roofed common cafeteria that made for a conveniently cool (and shaded) hydration opportunity; and an extensive gift shop that spotlights the many bronze bells and tiles that are handcrafted in the on-site foundry. Arcosanti offers monthly jazz evenings, Italian dinner events, and has some very plush and spacious accommodations (in the “Sky Suite”) for overnight guests at remarkably reasonable rates. I just might have to take them up on that offer sometime.

Photos, left to right: Cowboy Corner, Camp Verde, Arizona; Cowboy Corner’s tees; tin advertisement featuring Mae West at Cowboy Corner.

The ditch.

The fellas at Prevent This Tragedy clued me on to this find, so of course I had to go check it out straightaway. It’s right in front of a jail complex, with high security all over the place, and nowhere to park for miles. Thankfully, there was active construction going on nearby that provided a handy place to park (and hide) the camper-combo, and stealthily walk over to the ditch, via an underground culvert, popping up like a gopher every few yards to make sure that I wasn’t walking straight into a security detail or something.

People are funny creatures sometimes. The ditch was fenced off with a very expensive-looking, yet completely non-functional, barricade; it wasn’t hard at all to simply squeeze between the bars, and skate away some of my life away in there. The ditch had a rough-brush finish that is not perfectly ideal, but the big softies always end up carrying the day in these sorts of skate situations. Turns out, that fence stops inexplicably up by the headwall, which allowed me to walk on out of there without hardly any effort at all. So much for “security” and “deterrence”, huh…?

Photos, left to right: The World’s Largest Kokopelli; Fort Verde State Historic Park, Camp Verde, Arizona.

I’m an unapologetic history nerd. You know it, I know it, and everyone else knows it too. Fort Verde was founded in 1871 to basically protect white settlers from the native Indians; later, it’s role changed to making sure that the various Indian tribes stayed within the confines of their respective reservations. Architecturally, Fort Verde was interesting because of it’s lack of stockade walls; my tour guide explained that the fort was so fortified by soldiers and weaponry that the Indians would never even consider advancing on it directly, opting instead for hit-and-run raids on the scouting missions that put troops well out of range of the fort’s defenses.

The most impressive thing about the park was how well they preserved the story of the soldiers’ lives in the camp. It was a difficult, but clearly not impossible, existence. They were resilient and enterprising folks; the expansive vegetable gardens that they built in order to complement their meager Army rations was a testament to their improvisation skills. My guide was an immensely friendly and hospitable chap that took great pride in showing me around and explaining the finer details of the grounds and the museum. I had a really good time at this one.

The skatepark in Camp Verde was extremely hit-or-miss. The bowl was just terrible; I’m not sure how I could ever put that “nicely”. Kinky, weird, unskatable transitions everywhere with horribly uneven coping… ug. The “street course”, however, featured the word’s biggest, smoothest loading-dock bank, which made for heaps and tons of great fun.

The trick to dealing with questionable skateparks isn’t in expecting competent design and construction; it’s to expect the worst, and to utilize creative approaches to make the most of the inevitable imperfections.

Left: Artistic deconstruction near Arcosanti. Right: Montezuma Castle.

Tourists are terrible people. I hate them almost universally. They are slow, stupid, slothy fuckers that only serve to jam up public places to the point of crating gridlock everywhere they may choose to congregate. Monetezuma Castle was no exception. The tourists here were even worse than usual, and “the usual” is plenty bad enough.

However, I weathered the tourist trappings for two reasons. First: Montezuma Castle looked pretty fascinating, maybe even worth the frustration of dealing with all the clueless clods. In that regard, I was correct; these adobe Indian ruins precariously perched high off the ground in a natural cave overlooking the river valley were really a sight to behold.

Secondly: the entry fee also got me access to Tuzigoot National Monument in Clarkdale. That was an extremely enticing bonus.

Oak Creek Canyon panoramic

Because I was doing such a swell time sticking to my obsessive-compulsive itinerary, I decided that a quickie diversion might be in order. My wild hairs thought that a nice, leisurely drive through Oak Creek Canyon into Sedona might be the bee’s knees, so off I went to frolic through the forest for an hour or so. Upon descending into Sedona, however, I frightfully discovered that everybody that happened to be out on a road trip through central Arizona (just like I was) had opted for the same exact diversion, backing up route 89A with miles of slow-crawling, stop-and-go traffic. That noted, I decided that my best option might be to stop for a quick lunch at the only McDonald’s in the world with turquise-colored “golden arches”, and make my way to Cottonwood instead.

Left two photos: Cottonwood Skatepark. Right two photos: the locals eagerly enjoying my Deathbox Hackett model.

The afternoon sun was shining brightly, and the stiff wind was blowing a strong circle of dust around the skatepark. There were a few skaters at the Cottonwood skatepark, a friendly find after the tourist hell of Sedona. They immediately wanted to check out and try my trusty Deathbox Dave Hackett model, and I openly encouraged those sorts of shenanigans as I scoped out the scene, shot a bunch of photos, swept the dust and debris from the bowls’ depths, and spotted my lines around the place.

All: Tuzigoot National Monument

Rocks. Basically, what we have here are rocks… lots and lots of rocks… that are mortared together, and stacked up high to create three-story-tall Pueblo ruins. Ruins with a fascinating history and a stellar view of the surrounding valley. The whole time I was there, I was thinking to myself, “Oh, thank God. Thank God that the tourist contingent here is far thinner than it was at Montezuma Castle.” It was really quiet and peaceful, with only a single site volunteer on hand (peacefully playing a reed flute) to pierce the serene silence.

Clockwise from left: Jesus sculpture at the Arizona Copper Art Museum; The Virgin and The Child; wind-up mouse toy sculpture, illustration by the author; the restored Clarkdale high school that houses the current Arizona Copper Art Museum.

I stumble into the strangest things sometimes. The heart of Clarkdale’s historic district features a relatively new museum nestled into the restored high school building, dedicated to “copper art”. Now, I’ve seen some pretty odd ducks in my time, but an entire building dedicated to the creative use of copper is not one of those odd ducks. I decided right away that I just had to check that out.

You’ve never seen so much copper in one place, in your entire life. I certainly haven’t. I was completely bowled over (no pun intended) by how many examples this museum housed. There was cookware of all types and varieties (bowls included); busts and sculptures; embossed illustrations; and most intriguing and unsettling of all, an entire classroom devoted to battlefield sculptures made out of spent artillery shell casings. These would have been widely available castaways, of course, on the Western Front during World War 1. To see them repurpsed, en masse, as sculptures was kind of… well, creepy.

Left to right: my dinner spot in old town Cottonwood, Bing’s Burger Station; 1950 Plymouth Special DeLuxe and Gilmore “Red Lion” Gasoline pump, illustrations by the author; Bing’s interior. 

The sun went down far too fast, leaving me stranded without a suitable campsite. The spot that I had chosen by the Verde River had too many rules and too much security for my stealth sensibilities; the last thing I wanted that night was a hassle with the law. There were quite a few industrial-park back lots that looked pretty promising, but nothing that really floated my boat.

On my second suss-out mission around town, I happened upon an Elks lodge that sat high up on a hill, well out of eyesight from the road below. That looked like my sort of spot, so I drove on up to scope it out. The parking lot was large and dark, with only one street light illuminating the grounds- nice! Even better, there were fully developed campsites behind the building, complete with solar-powered lawn lamps- perfect! My stupendously good fortune scores yet another small (but significant) victory.

Sedona’s skatepark, Jack Malmgren Skate Park. The only thing in the whole town that’s worth a damn.

Sedona’s a dump, man. Straight out. I woke up early and made my way to the airport overlook to snatch a quick photo of the famous red rocks. I figured that I’d be safe from any touristy-douchery at that time of the morning. Oh, my, how wrong I was.

I drove up to the airport, and saw a sign for “$3 All Day Parking”. Well, I had no intention of staying anywhere near all day. I’d barely be there for more than a few minutes. Assuming that “all day” actually meant “all day”, I drove into the lot, found a space (which was really easy to do,considering that the entire lot was empty), shut the Econobubble down, and made my way to the overlook for my three-minute adventure.

“Hey! You! You have to pay to park here, buddy!”, the guardian of the place hollered from across the lot.

“No problem! How much?!”, I yelled back.

“Three dollars!”

“That’s for all day, bub. I’m only staying a few minutes. How much is that?”

“Same price!”

“You’ve gotta be f’n kidding me, right…?!”

“Hey now, there’s no need to swear at me!”

“I see it quite differently, asshole. You’re seriously gonna charge me the all-day rate for five minutes? How about I throw you a nickel, and you can keep the change, dickwad?” I threw a few pennies on the ground, and told the gate guard to come and pick up his prize. There’s only a zillion photos of Sedona on the internet, anyway. Might as well just steal one of those, and save myself the hassles.

I made my way over to Burger King for a quick breakfast bite, then to the Sedona skatepark to grind out my frustrations. There was one chap there, an older fellow named Caleb, who turned out to be the coolest guy I’d meet in Sedona all weekend. Of course, he was from Georgia, not the Sedona douchebag vortex. That pretty much explains everything, right there. 

Left: the Audrey Headframe. Upper right: the only McDonald’s in the world with teal arches, Sedona, Arizona. Bottom right: Streamline camper, Clarkdale, Arizona, illustration by the author.

If you don’t know, a “head frame” is the framework that supports the pulleys that drop things down in to, or pulls things out of, a mine shaft. Naturally enough, these frames usually sit right over the shafts themselves, shafts that can reach some pretty severe depths. The shaft under the Audrey Head Frame that sits just outside the wecome gate to Jerome State Historic Park is an awe-inspiring 1900 feet deep, a couple hundred feet taller than the World Trade Center. The only thing that seperates you from the blackness of the shaft’s depths is a single piece of plate glass. I stood on it. It was pretty scary, but I survived.

The drive to Chino Valley was long and lonely. Relaxing, thankfully… but still a bit boring. There’s not much to see out there once you descend out of the mountians, and land in the wide-open grasslands that define the scenescape around the Prescott Valley peripheries.

Chino Valley is a sprawling bedroom community that seems like it is trying to reconcile its western roots with modern conveniences, just like so much of rural America is trying to do to some greater or lesser degree. The one thing that I could not find, however, regardless of how many circles I drove around in, was the skatepark itself.

“Yeah! The skatepark used to be right over there, where the basketball courts are now. Too many kids got broke off in there, so they took everything away a few years back.” 

Judging from the GoogleMaps images, it really wasn’t much to look at in the first place, let alone skate. Just a handful of prefab ramps on a concrete slab, stuck out in the far edge of town. Still, I was bummed over the missed opportunity anyway. If I’m going to drive so far to skate something, then I fully expect to skate something.

Even if that “something” is totally crappy.