From page 42
If Galveston was fun, and Florida
(Ft. Lauderdale) was the funnest.
then the Atlanta "Ramp Ranch III
was definitely the burliest. All of the
Atlanta skaters we met were into the
roots/power skating style. The ramp
reflected the craziness of their
attitude: 11' high (2 or 3 more vert
than we've skated this tour), 28
wide with plenty of flat bottom and
faster than hell. It also featured a
canyon and a partying deck with
pool coping. No copers, no three-
name-tricks, and not much back-
wards; these guys definitely ripped.
Just bare-truck grinds, lofty airs and
old surf-influenced slides. They took
us to the ramp in a thrashed, stick-
ered, old panel truck complete with
long-board bumper and "Thrasher
in 4 letters on the side. On the way
to the ramp, during one of TK's
(thrashvan owner and ramp ranch
builder extraordinaire) thruster
traffic slides, mention was made
that the 'Atlanta killer' hung out
here. I guess those people really
exist somewhere. Well, we brought
two truckloads of skaters back to
the show and got them in with no
money. All killed time streetskating.
acid dropping, and T.K.'s friend was
into bio-backflips off the bus. We
found our bros-roots skating. You
can't practice insanity, it's spontane-
ous
KNOXVILLE, TN
I woke up twice in the night: once,
to find the bus parked in front of a
fireworks emporium (thanx Brian),
and once to find us 4-wheeling in
some field. When I knew for sure I
was awake, we were pulling into a
nice suburban Tennessee home on
a gnarly hill. Brain Creature (Brian)
crashed, so it was me and Bam,
along with two locals, off to Oak
Ridge to session Joe Bowers'
halfpipe. After a heated session at
the ramp (24" wide, 9' high and split
8' on one side, with cahyon), we hit
a ditch called "Wallos." It was
nestled in some nice greenery and I
got bit by some ungodly ant-wasp-
bee-thing. Even though it was
Tuesday the show drew a good
crowd and lots of skaters showed.
We stayed at Camp's house and his
mom treated us to homemade
cakes, hamburgers, salad, graham
crackers, milk, unknown liters of
coke and plenty of hospitality. We
also checked out the "charcoal
bowl." The house is fixed, the pool is
painted white and it had mucho
water in it. That canyon shot was
faked.
DURHAM. N.C.
that's a snake run). All in all, another
sweaty one. I hope we get out of the
humidity soon, laut nite the show
sweated like the Tool & Die
Skaterock gig (today I'm writing
from in the trees, in a Virginia State
park. Nice change from the typical
urban setting).
The biggest disappointment was
finding out there is no Mayberry
N.C. There is Raleigh (Corrosion of
Conformity is from there), a Syler
City, and even a Mt. Pilot. After we
went and checked out the hall
(downstairs room in a church) me,
Brian and Bam went with a local
(from nearby Raleigh) to an old
abandoned skatepark. The park
used to be called "El Toro," and
featured what was left of a couple of
snake runs. We even found a big
gnarly cottonmouth/water mocassin
snake in one of the bowls (now
44
RICHMOND, VA.
Right this very moment, our bus is
parked at the top of a hill (where it
always breaks down!) in
Washington, D.C. Yesterday, we
played Richmond, Va. As soon as
we hit Richmond I made a few calls
(Thrasher/Zorlac answering
machine) and streetskated to a
Western Union to receive more of
the coveted folding green stuff
(money). On the way, right between
a 'curb grind' and a 'crack air,' I met
some guy who promised to take me
to a skate spot when I returned.
When I did return, I was accom-
The bus works now.
D.C.
Well, we played D.C., and hung
out most of the day with nothing to
do. People in other cities told us of a
skateboard contest, but it turned out
to be in Baltimore or something.
There was a "Skaters go to Metrolot
sign on the front of the club, but we
searched to no avail. Me and Brian
hung out with the Toke Team before
and after the show and discussed
the Annandale ramp, and the ditch
contest the next day. One bad thing
about touring is that you never are
anywhere long enough to do the
cool stuff. By the time you get down
to talking to the right people, it's time
to go. Or especially when you meet
somebody cool, it's always time to
go. Well, it's time to go.
N.Y.C.
panied by two locals (guy and girl) to
a school black top type bank. After a
few surf-slides we checked out a
makeshift quarterpipe at a huge art
building, then went to the club,
which had surfboards on the wall.
Lots of skaters showed, and we had
another really good time. After-
wards, we departed to a 'shothouse'
after hours speakeasy type thing.
Incredible place, you walk into a
living room and it looks like "The
Untouchables" (circa 1930). When I
was conscious again, we were in
front of some house trying to pick up
Bam. Some huge woman was
screaming and some rug-rat kid
was gonna hit us with a brick. So,
someone spit on him and we left.
Don. NYC
bought a cool "Blackheart" bracelet
for a buck and taught the Chinese
lady who sold it to me how to say
"heart" and "gnarly." Streetskating in
NYC's cool, the cops don't care.
The skateboard is the ultimate
urban assault vehicle, transpo
weapon. For those with rollerskates,
hopping fences to escape is impos-
sible. So anyway, looking ahead,
that night was "Souixie and the
Banshees' and the next day was us
with the Faction. Should be fun,
we're going to take Caballero for
some real, no pads' skating.
When I woke up today (Saturday),
we were already in New York City.
on Bowery St., right in front of
CBGB's, where the next day we
played with the Faction, Gilligan's
Revenge and Kilroy. Me and Brian
immediately hit the streets for some
streetstyle and some legendały
banks under the Brooklyn Bridge.
The first bridge we stopped on was
the wrong one, so we checked out
the river and watched a couple of
guys completely strip a car. A
couple of grinds later we were under
the Brooklyn Bridge, cruising some
huge brick banks. Here, I failed to
pull out of a thruster and ripped the
shit out of my hand (I still don't know
how). Afterwards we cruised Burger
King and the Statue of Liberty
(under renovation). In Chinatown I
Well, we didn't go to the Ban-
shees. Instead, we hooked up with
Doug, from Kraut, and headed for a
6th story apt., with not one, but two
views. This neighborhood is pro-
tected by Hell's Angels (who do a
better job than the cops I'm told),
and after we settled in the apart-
ment, the sounds emanating from
the street roared like a raging war.
Water Moccasin skatepark. Durham, N.C.
The Faction was way late. No-
body thought they were going to
make the gig. Well, they finally
rolled in as the show started, and
played second so they could leave
for another show in Maryland, I
think. By that time we broke down
and unloaded, nobody was into
skating anymore. We still had a long
drive to Virginia Beach. We rolled up
in front of St. Marks for a last slice of
pizza, shot all of our remaining
fireworks (from Tennessee) at bums
and passing cars, bid farewell to
Doug (Kraut) and NYC. I will never
forget this guy dragging this girl
around by a leash like a dog and
carrying a riding crop (for whipping
EATMEN
DISCHARGE
Enclose Check or Money Order.
Atlanta, GA
horses). You just don't see that stull
in H.B. or AZ
(DISASTER DIGRESSION)
Today is Monday, July 16, 1984.
It's night here at the McDonald's,
close to the truck stop where our
bus lays dormant. This morning we
were on our way to Virginia Beach
for tonite's gig. When I awoke, we
were on some interstate, stopped.
Something was wrong with the
water pump, the fan had a blade
missing and was throwing stuff out
of wack. The cops came and left,
and were cool. They gave us a red
thing that said they were there, and
not to give us a ticket. The AAA
dude was a dick. We rigged the bus
to get us somewhere in Baltimore
where the needed parts were to be
had. When we rigged the bus, the
fan shot into the radiator wasting it
too. Well, we got all of the stuff
(about $300) and our mechanic
installed it, so we were off to the gig
(late) again, when we lost the power
steering and puted off the road to
find the radiator we bought was
bogus too!
All of this brings us to now. Me
and Bamare sitting there having just
raged on some McDonald's cuisine
(sorry Chef Boy, there was no rabbit
food in sight. This is the first gig
JFA has ever missed. There were
some real close ones. Once in
Santa Barbara we were supposed
to play, but me and Lloyd Mongo
(Brian B.) found out that some kids
dug out the pools at Reseda (when
the snake was still there but trashed)
and we almost didn't make the
show. Well, like I said, tonite is the
first one we ever missed.
So far (this is about half way)
we've played 23 shows and covered
about 10,000 miles. We've gone
through endless fan belts (starting
with Jerry Falwell's), 4 water pumps,
going on 2 radiators, and a wheel
bearing. My guitar is greasy and
slimy like an old tractor, and my amp
looks and sounds like it was tossed
off a cliff. Brian got all of his personal
possessions and I.D. ripped off in
NYC, and Bam has gone through 6
or 7 pairs of sticks, cracked a Zildjen
and two Paiste rude cymbals and
broken 3 snare heads (2 of his own
and one borrowed). Our bass player
has gone through 7 bass strings
(expensive habit), blown up a
speaker in his cabinet, and he had
to carry Lloyd (Lloyd Mongo, our
illustrious singer) after he was
knocked out. I'm not ragging, this is
simply reality if you're going to do
over 50 shows in less than 60 days
covering the continental U.S. and
Canada. We've skated everything
you could think of in every place I've
never heard of, and seen a lot of
real life. Don't ever be fooled, real
life is much stranger than fiction.
There's a lot of cool people
everywhere, and mucho skaters. So
here's to you (skaters), from a rainy
McDonald's outside of Baltimore.
Me and Bam are running back to the
bus naked, 'cuz we need a shower.
THE 1984 JFA SUMMER TOUR
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