The day started out with promise in the air. Not a hint of rain and I was up at the crack of dawn to prepare for our epic adventure. Of course when I called 'the crew' at a quarter to elleven, Tim, the eldest, answers the phone and says he must awake the chilluns. I hear a muffled, "get the f&%k up, Charlie's on the phone!" followed by, "Oh s#@t! gotta go skate!" And a half hour later we were rolling to our first destination, Carroll Park, in good ole pig town, south Baltimore.
With Slipknot in our ears we're piled in the Scion Xb, We got there early which was good to have the park all to ourselves for a moment. To ourselves meaning no other skaters, bikers, etc... Still had to dodge the occasional vagrant an/or crackhead. Lines were goin nice considering I hadn't rolled carroll in months. I was able to pick out the one good 'line' that park has to offer despite a mudpuddle at the bottom of the drop where I carve the foot wide section of quater pipe that looms over a narrow pyramid. There would be more flow to the parks had they not installed so many quirky features. That is what makes the park simultaneously rad and suck. It is rad because you have to be creative and it sucks because nothing seems to come naturally there, except the spine, for me.
So the boys were goin off! Everett, of course, was boosting big airs over anything and everything that stood in his way. Lunchbox started off gentle and wound up stealing the show at the end of the day. Tim was jamming to his ipod, smoking cigarrettes, poppin some bigspins, and muttering to himself about a potential deal with Circa shoes. It was cool when the locals showed up. First was a biker whom Ev immediately befriended. Dude was floating some nice s*%t for shure. What is cool about that is the lack of animosity. No haters in this crew. Everyone's just rollin and havin a good time. All the locals were stoked to see us rippin. Everett managed to pull a 360 melon over an oil drum out of the quarter pipe. As I said previously Lunchbox stole the show, getting his money's worth, landing a tricky boardslide up a slanted ledge next to a steep bank, as well as getting the highest ollies of the day. I had my fun on the spine, lockin in some grinds, boardslide, smith, floaty, switch, pivot, etc... With one gnarly slam as I hung let my hip taste some concrete. It ain't no mini-ramp. That f%$ker is solid. We left before Tim tried anything big on the ten set, which might have required a medic.
We jet back to Lansdowne, where Everett has to get his Zoloft prescription filled. Meanwhile Rob, Tim, and I go and have a jam session at my house. Me on the drums mostly, flute, banjo, etc... Rob playing some mean riffs with some nice distortion. Tim makin his guitar sound like a bass. We had intended to follow this with a trip to Green Skate Lab. The plan was disheveled when Ev decides he needs to watch a pack of girls play with sticks and balls. Nothing like girls catching balls and fondling sticks. Hope his girlfriend won her lacross game!
Tim was stoked on rippin a pool and continued suggesting Greenbelt. All his descriptions of the place seemed to involve intestines in one way or another. "That pool will leave your small intestine in the shallow end!" "Hold on to your effin spleen!" It will blow your mind while you s#%t your pants. Sounds good to me! Rob wasn't havin it though. Aside from him being just tired in general he wasn't too stoked on a pool and wanted something with more of a street course. Of course I could give or take a street course. Gimme a pool and I am happy. We reached an agreement and decided on BOWIE! Something for everyone! One of the gnarliest pools around for me. And an ample street course for the lunchbox.
I still insist that even though some pool are bigger none I have skated is as gnarly as Bowie. real quick tranny, nice whippin pockets, and a clam shell to seal the deal! I was able to find a dizzying amount of lines and I wet myself consecutively at the sound of grinding that thing. Grinds there are the nastiest! Its a cross between the sound bones splintering and sharpening a sword on flint. Nasty! Rob got his by flippin some tricks on the pyramid and a nice boardslide on the hand rail. Tim tried his hand at a boneless over a sick gap. We all had fun talking to Tim's old friend Shamaia, who was seriously trying to get into Rob's pants after a little vodka. Too bad Everett didn't get to slice up that pool. Next time buddy!
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