SECOND ANNUAL
MORRO
BAY
SLALOM CONTEST
Photography by Rich Rose
MOTEL
Motel
Two racers headin' for the beach as the crowd specul
Morro Rock, ominous through the log, create the back
MOTEL
FAMILY
It was Thursday, June 4th when I
was rudely blasted off my mattress
by the sound of the phone ringing.
I focused on the clock and defer-
mined the time to be roughly
about 1:30 in the afternoon. Now
who in the hell would be calling
me at this forsaken hour of the
day? I Igroped for the receiver.
Hello
Hello, is this Morizen?
"Yeah, this is me, who are you?"
"This is one of the guys from
THRASHER MAG, I was wondering if
you could cover a race for us?
"A race? What kind of race?
Where is it? When is it? (The things
I had to know)
"Well, I know it's kind of short
notice, but it's
sday after tomorrow
in Morro Bay. It's gonna be a down-
hil slalom race. Uh, the journalist
we
e had originally assigned to
cover it suddenly come down with
leprosy and his doctor suggested
for him to keep away from large
crowds for a while
Hmmmm, that's too bad I
figured the guy probably wouldn't
live too much longer 'cause that
leprosy stuff can get to be pretty
nasty. I thought to myself of all the
things that I had planned for the
weekend 1 This assignment could
H
put a
damper on all the female
scams I had set up for the next
few days I guess I could just keep
those betties dry. Let them suffer.
And if they can't take it woll hey. I
don't need them. Besides, a little
change of scenery might do me
some good. "Morro Bay? Hey man
Ive never heard of it. Is it in the
US? I asked wondering just what
I was getting myself into
"Of course it's in the US you jerk
What do you think. Td send you to
Nicaragua or something? Mono
Bay is just a couple of hours down
the coast. Now! Can I count on
you or what?
I tried to think of how long it had
been since anyone had called
me a jerk. It was a pet name my
Mom used to call me. A very
special name that really means a
lot to me. So I f
I figured that if this
cat from THRASHER thought enough
to call me a jerk that I sure could
make
the time to go and do this
story for him. So I said "Sure buddy.
just get me there and i do it for
you He gave me the number of
skateboard
a couple of prosperous!
exec's in my area that were going
down to
to help out in the contest. I
gave them a ring and
and arranged a
pick-up. Armed with briefcase full
of firecrackers, various stickors, a
truck wrench, toothpaste, tooth-
brush a a Japanese made ray gun
half a yo-yo, a
a computerized
screwdriver, a sixth sense in dimes
a pen and
and a pad of
to be
them having to take a rest
Finally we arrived at Morro Bay
We pulled into a gas station to ask
for directions. My three chauffeurs
looked around for the attendant
but couldn't seem to spot him.
And no wonder, I thought, because
they were all pretty damn near
cross-eyed. (You know, my grand-
mother once told me that if you
made your eyes crossed and
somebody came up and hit you
in the back of the head that you'd
be cross-ayed forever) I was the
first to spot him. He was in the
office just sitting there. I thought he
was dead. The capitalists were
inclined to agree. So they held a
ask
quick board meeting and voted
me, in a 3 to 1 decision, to go e
directions (was the minority vote).
I walked up to the guy and c asked
him where Harbor Street was the
sight of the contest). He
He sort of hod
a long scar all the way around his
neck and squinted one of i
of his eyes
as he spoke to me in a strange
hick dialect. I memorized the
instructions and walked back to
the car wondering if he was legit
or maybe he was crazy or some
thing and was leading us to Motol
Hell Regardless, we went our
unsober way and found the spot.
As we turned onto Harbor, we met
up (almost head-on) with Jack
Smith
Jack was coordinator of the
race. We chatted a
Ia while and
asked him if he could suggest a
place to k
to lodge for the night and a
place to scarf. The lodgings proved
to be pretty formidable, so wo
proceeded to dump off our junk
and headed over to the fine scarf-
Ing establishment called The
Hungry Tiger Aftor
hour in the cocktaing a half
ocktail lounge to be
seated I was summarily gassed
And after seeing the final tab
was delirious. But luckily I was
dining with capitalist types and
they look care of it, I just put in
of the tip. We returned to our
respectable lodgings to rest up for
the next day's festivities. Bright and
early the next morning I was rudely
awakened by the sounds a
of my
cellmate's harmfull emissions as
he prepared for a shower session
Being wide awake and nasally
disgusted I put on my clothes
switched on the video accommo
dation and sparked up a dose of
caffeine liquid. The broadcast
was
in 1944. D-Day.
centered on what happened on
this very same day in
the invasion of Normandy. How
appropriate for the day's contest
A show of strength and
endurance
to see who would prevail. Only
today, the weapons would be
Toddy
skateboards instead of guns. For
breakfast we ate next door t
to the
De we ate at the night before.
The building was half the size of
the "HT" and so was the fab. I
for
paid in my usual fashion. While we
were waiting for the check in walk
a couple of heavies, John I
Hutson
and Tim Plumarta from the SANTA
CRUZ SKATES squad. They looked
hungry for vittles and for victory
We exchanged comments and
insults and it looked to me like the
"Hut seemed ready for action. On
our way out we ran into the
place
pad of paper I was
on my way to Morro Boy
The drive down proved
vory interesting. We left at about
noon on
on Friday the
the 5th. I sure
learned a lot on the way down.!
learned that capitalists sure like to
talk a lot about capitalism. I
n I also
learned that I could drink thirteen
16 fl. oz. bottles of barley by-
products, smoke a bunch of wierd
brandless cigarettes, get dizzy.
and sit for four hours and 350
miles without once having to go
to the bathroom. Now that's better
than any of the capitalists in the
car managed to do. Nary a quarter
of an hour passed without one of
"Potatoe Head and Bob Serafin
also on the SANTA CRUZ squad
They also looked famished in the
same fashion as their cohorts. As
we walked outside we were
1
Speed blur David Baker had consistently fast times
Lone female entrant, Carol Eliot, brushes a cone on her way down the hill
POWELL