SKATERS
WITH
A
The Sabound Crossing
For M Sc
CAUSE
OREGON V
At the starting point, Newport, Oregon,
Four skaters take to the road on a cross country skate trek to benefit the Multiple Sclerosis
Society and, as Bob Denike reports, to find out a little more about America and themselves.
Bob demos some freestyle on a Oregon roadway that was roadblocked by dynamite wielding road crews.
PHOTOS by BOB and GARY
LA PIERRE ON THE MERIDIAN, SAN
FRANCISCO, CALIF., JUNE 28
It was a strange sight, four skateboarders
clad in shorts and tennis shoes, skates
under our arms, asking where the main
banquet room was located. Peg Martin, our
Multiple Sclerosis Society connection, met
us at the banquet room doorway and led
us to our front row table. We received quite
a few stares from the conservatively
dressed banquet guests, who were mainly
the national heavyweights of the Multiple
Sclerosis Society (M.S. for short). We sat
down, and the room soon went silent.
"Ladies and gentlemen, before we begin
our lunch, I would like to introduce to you
four young men who are embarking on a
sizable journey, a trip across the United
States, from Oregon to Virginia, on
skateboards, for the benefit of the Multiple-
Sclerosis Society."
The room of about 300 exploded in
applause and cheers as each of us were
introduced. It finally went quiet as we sat
down to a lunch prepared for a king. It was
a beginning we didn't expect for a trip filled
Portland M.S. Chapter president, in his
plush, high-rise office. He seemed excited
for us, but he too asked the question "Think
you'll make it?"
A representative from the mayor's office
was waiting outside and he presented us
with an official proclamation stating June
29, 1984, as an official "Athletes vs. M.S."
day for the state of Oregon. It sort of looked
like and read like the Declaration of
Independence with a lot of "whereins,"
thous," and "thees," but, he assured, it
would get us out of any sticky situations
we might come across.
We moved on toward the town of
Newport, our official starting point for the
trip, and we met up with Rick Hert,
executive director of the Chamber of
Commerce. We started out with an official
discussion of our plans and the starting
ceremonies, but this quickly changed to
what kind of beverages we drank and what
we did for fun (besides skateboarding).
That's the kind of guy he was, very
professional and good at his job but still
possessing a loose, skater-type edge to
of vert. We skated for a while and called it
quits when Paul flew about 30 feet into the
kids watching at rampside.
Back at the YMCA, our motel for the
night, all was quiet for a good night's sleep
when Paul groaned, "Aaaaah, we're not
going to make it!" We dampen his
suspicions with a little pep talk and we hit
the sack. 26 days? 3,000 miles? Across
the USA?
GENERAL HOOPLA AND MISS
LINCOLN COUNTY, THE PACIFIC, JULY 1
The small town of Newport, along with
some help from Rick Hert, had really
outdone itself. TV crews, newspapers, a
crowd of 200, the mayor, members of the
Loyalty Days Court (a group of welcoming-
type girls), skaters, and, of course, the
currently reigning Miss Lincoln County.
After various speeches, photos, interviews,
and hand-shakings, we ran down to the
ocean to baptize the tails of our decks, and
with a speech from Miss Lincoln, a snip of
a ribbon and applause from the crowd, we
were off skating the first of 3,000 miles
complete with a police escort to the
THRASHER
Holiday
Inn
SSS
WELCOME AUTH
JACK
PAUL
Jack and Bob make final preps Newport laundrymat
with the unexpected.
We were on our way to Portland, Oregon,
and I was staring out the window of our
van wondering why I had gotten involved.
It all started out so innocently. Sure, skate,
across the country to raise money for at
charity and promote skateboarding across
the States, no problem. Jack Smith had
told Paul Dunn, Gary Fluitt and myself all
about the same type of trip he took back
in 1976, from Oregon to Virginia. all on a
skateboard.
This time, though, he wanted to
complete the 3,000 miles in 26 days or less
and stick to a strict schedule of promotional
functions and news media coverage. It was
all set up so perfect, too perfect.
We were trusted in a position where only
one outcome would be expected,
successful completion of the long.
3,000-mile trip! I closed my eyes and slept
with an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
ATHLETES VS. M.S. DAY, PORTLAND,
ORE., JUNE 29
My sleep was washed away with a cup
of coffee as we talked with Jerry Deas,
A Holiday Inn welcome in Wassau, Wisconsin.
him. We couldn't have linked up with
anyone better to shove us off.
Newport was a great small town filled
with friendly people, the type of people we
would become accustomed to meeting
across the U.S. "Mr. Newspaper," Jack
Smith, stumbled across a newsstand with
a paper that had a front page article about
our whole trip. This was the first of about
40 newspapers that would pick up on our
trip and help us promote M.S. and
skateboarding.
LAST DAY FOR NORMAL LIVING,
NEWPORT, ORE., JUNE 30
We walked into the radio station and
before we realized it, we were on the air.
Gary and Jack interviewed as Paul and I
checked out the station's top 40, consisting
mostly of country twang. Paul met Ellen, a
girl who filled us in on small town life and
described this thing shaped "sort of like a
big U, you know what I mean?" It didn't
take us long to figure out what Ellen was
talking about, and we found ourselves
walking down a wooded path to a first
generation type of halfpipe-you know,
very tall, narrow, no flat bottom, with plenty
One of the many "live" radio interviews en route.
outskirts of town. Our adrenalin completes
the 110 miles for us today and we set up
camp at a campground deep in the Oregon
forest. Spirits are up with hamburger helper
hitting the spot.
DESERT LAND (?) PRINEVILLE, ORE.,
JULY 2, 85 MILES
After dealing with the logging trucks and
a hassle from a State Trouper who
proclaimed we were "running trucks off the
road," we witnessed a big change in
terrain. The Cascade Mountains emptied
us into dry, hot desertland, changing my
impression that Oregon was a cool, green,
and continually raining part of our country.
We finish the day strong and I wonder
aloud, "What are we doing out here?"
HARVEY AMER, COWBOY, UNITY, ORE.,
JULY 3, 169 MILES
I noticed the black shadows circling the
ground around me before I looked up and
saw four or five buzzards. "What am I
doing?" I yelled and I skated a little bit
faster. Ever been alone, I mean really
alone? Eastern Oregon's the place to give
it a try.