Craig Johnson
Gibson, up high in the mighty.
Photos: Kevin Thatcher
"WE'RE GONNA RIDE THAT
PAAIEEEAAGGHH!!...."
The spillway was steep, steeper than I had
imagined when we first laid eyes on the
massive trough. So steep that if any of us
slipped or lost our footing we would tumble,
gear and all, into the icy waters lapping at the
shoreline of cement below us. And gear we
had. We were packed down, seven skate
mercenaries ascending the spillway loaded
down with skateboards and all the necessary
gear that would take us through a full day's
adventure, and maybe longer, inside "the
pipe." A big pipe, 28' top to bottom, which we
knew lay gaping, open mouthed just a few.
hundred feet beyond the concrete horizon
that blocked our view of it as we tredged
upwards.. The spillway, so steep that we
couldn't begin to run up it no matter how
excited or anxious we became. It was
like...like a dream where you're running from
something, yet whatever it is keeps gaining on
you because you can't move your legs fast
enough, something holding you back, weigh-
ing you down. That's how it was on the spill-
way. Gravity ruled. Gravity that we knew we
would be testing the limits of once we got into
the mouth of the cylinder. We had to have
patience to avoid burning ourselves out
during the pre-dawn acsent.
I glanced over at Newton, he was loaded
down with a full array of video equipment. I
checked and adjusted my own camera gear,
readying for the first glimpse of the barrel. The
plan: to skate-assault the 28 foot pipe and
record for posterity all the activities therein.
An innocent undertaking, to be sure, but we
knew the dangers and the illegalities of such
an undertaking. For, if we were to be seen on
the face of the spillway it would mean certain
death to all of our best laid intentions.
As I caught my first glimpse of the top
curvature of the pipe ceiling, I noticed how
clean the spillway was. Obviously no water
had ever run through it, or would ever. It was
clean because the damn thing was so steep
and the winds sometimes howled through the
tunnel so fiercely that any debris lighter than a
ten pound boulder would get swept away.
Full documentation and a ton of equipment were needed to record the action.
Gibson thrusts out of the pocket.
Down the tube.
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Cornued on page 29