22
a potential contest. Thus all skaters
present were obliged to skate to-
gether in the meantime until whatever
was gonna happen,' would begin. But
that's the thing. This sessioning IS the
whole goal of achievement. That's the
answer to the mystery. It's whatever
you want it to be, except a contest.
You don't need a contest to showcase
good skating. All you need is a good
place to skate and skaters granted the
freedom to ride however they want to.
After a few hours of non-stop enter-
tainment, the Mind Brothers disap-
peared and returned laden with groc-
ery bags filled with the requisite pro-
visions for a full-scale hot dog feast.
The grill was prepped and the ween-
ies were roastin'. The skate doggies
were dripping with energy. Free enter-
tainment in the hottest ramp on earth
and free hot dogs for everyone.
The skating had diminished during
the course of the feast, to a skant few
vert-hungry riders. But before all the
weenies were devoured, the ramp ac-
tion began to increase. The riders
were fueled, pepped up to the gills
with another full tank of energy. Like
rocket Salvos they assaulted the per-
ipheral transitions, invading the short
slumber of the settling sheets of ply.
The answers to all your mysteries lie
within the lines you lie down, depicting
whichever course you may follow.
Descending the steps into the pas-
sion pit of sweltering daring, stopped a
camera crew from the BBC. Where
did they come from? The cinematic
crew explained that they caught wind
of the occasion from an anonymous
soul, whilst they were filming roller-
skating out on Venice Beach. They sit-
uated their big camera right at the
transition, at the edge of the ramp just
across from me. Whenever I use that
angle, I need six eyes and quick re-
flexes because that area is the
DEATH ZONE!
The movie camera's lens glistened
like the surface of an eyeball. "Hey
boy! How much is that lens worth?" 1
yelled across. He said some four digit
number attaching 'pounds' after it.
"I bet you twice that much, that
your lens is in a million pieces within
ten minutes. Whadaya say?"
"Wot? You say this is a bad spot,
mate? You think I should move, eh?"
he said, taking a light reading with an
ultra expensive L.E.D. digital display
light meter with his assistant at his
side nodding, "yes."
Just then, Steve Olson dropped in,
hit the high wall, kicked it out sending
the board crashing down onto the
BBC camera. While the camera crew
repositioned, they dodged two more
ten-inch wide projectiles. They looked
silly, hopping up and down, trying to
prevent the severe shin-shockers. I
usually let the things hit me and see if
I cannot notice it. After a while you get
used to the pain, the lumps, the bruis-
es, lacerations, the pus and welts. It's
all part of the job. If you start ducking
every board that looked like it was
gonna hit you, you'd end up missing a
lot of good shots.
BEIRUT
After the changing of the guard, the
sentry headed back to his bunk to get
ready for a long awaited shower.
Meanwhile, his replacement gave his
Opposite page, top: Steve Olson hasnt changed in all the years of
skating. Every time Steve took a run people either dove for cover,
or were entertained by some classic, Bulky tongue-in-cheek
moves like this frontside lapover. Bottom: Lance Mountain says,
Help me, Mr. Wizzard." This page: Scenes of disorderly madness
23