NALO
RAMP
Pizza guts, Martinez, Hosoi,
Davinbacher Roskopp, Soblow
Moblow; Billman, Cab and Guerrero.
We sessioned Wallos several times
during our stay. At one point the ditch was
alive with a contingency of 'known skaters
that you'd rarely find gathered at one spot
on the mainland let alone two thousand
miles from home. All at once Gator,
Roskopp. Lucero, Meek, Cab, Hosoi
Guerrero, Martinez, Gonzales, Grigley,
even Rocco, and a healthy local faction
consisting of Johnee Kop, the Oblows,
Troy boy, Stacy, Pez (riding barefoot) and
Bally were all rebounding off of the walls
and each other in pinball like fashion as
they repeatedly launched themselves
down the trough.
Still another more controlled session a
few days later had our boys freightraining
follow the leader speed lines down the
ditch. Side to sido aerials through the
different bowls, each with its own charac-
teristics and hangups, mixed with each
skater's individual approach made for a
fun, intense and somewhat bloody
session. Several of us witnessed, with
jaws dropped, a show of courage by Flob
Roskopp that was hard to stomach. After
piling hard on a frontside bail through the
water bowl, Rob got up and walked a few
painful circles around his board. To our
amazement, rather than sitting out for a
cold one, Rob picked up his board and
without a word spoken, walked back to the
top for another go. One gang run through
the first bowl resulted in boards and
bodies sprawled at the bottom of the wall.
It started with a Christ frontside allie off the
hip, followed closely by Cab's backside air
then Johnee Kop's backside. It ended
when Johnee hung up on the very top of
the lip and rolled to the bottom of the wall.
causing Jesse, Rob and Dave Duncan,
who were right behind, to think last and
bail out.
Each time someone went down hard
the witnesses along the top of the banks
would laugh and jeer the victim back to his
senses. All the while, everyone knew that
a vicious slam at Wallos could end a skate
career. In spite of this, few pads are worn.
Even kneepads were absent, so as to
resist the temptation to kneeslide out a
bail. The rough grit surface would only tear
the protection away and reveal the flesh
and then the blood and bone. There's only
one way to bail at spots like this and it's
called the dive, tuck and roll.
SCHOOL OF STREETSTYLE
There would be no contest today. That
was never really in the game plan It
turned out to be much more than a
contest. Sort of a demo considering the
heavyweights present. Actually, a demoli-
tion of the style that everyone comes to
expect from street skating. Even if the
ramps stay the same the skating just
continues to get more insane.
By the time we arrived at the contest
site, the Neo Valley Middle School
playground, the well-known event was
well underway with all the local skate rats
present and taking advantage of the street
Tommy Guerrero floating off a mean ittio
street ramp at the schoolyard jam.
ramps strewn about. Earlier the schoolyard
site had been scooped by the local dads
(police) mainly because of a fresh graffitti
mural that had mysteriously appeared the
night before. For the rest of the afternoon
there wasn't a blue man in sight, so
everything continued to rage uncontrolled.
When a tropical burst of rain let loose
midway through the proceedings, the
ramps were simply moved underneath the
corridor that rimmed the whole schoolyard.
Christian and Jesse put on a wall slam-
ming demonstration that fried everyone's
brain. Chunks of Jesse's board were flying
Into the gathered throng as he repeatedly
assaulted the perpendicular.
A well orchestrated sticker/product toss
was choreographed by Christian and the
other pros present. Stickers, boards and
shirts hailed down on a mass of 200
grabbers before the show was all over. We
hastily adjourned to the local pizza house
for a food slam.
One early morning, Grant Fukuda and I
took a slow cruise around the eastern
edge of the island to check the surf at
Pipeline on the north shore. Grant showed
me where there used to be a ramp
situated right at the famous beach break.
When the swell was up the spectators
would swivel-neck between watching
surfers getting swallowed in perfect tubes
and locals raging slashback grinds on the
halfpipe.
Grant showed me another ramp site to
the south of Waimea Bay that I had seen in
the snapshots he'd sent. Ramp owner,
Dinosaur Deane, an interesting character
in his 30's who enjoys painting hair and
pogo sticking, was not home when we
passed by. A monstrous creation, the
Dinosaur ramp sits across a country lane
from Deane's house, barely a stones
throw from the ocean. We didn't skate or
see anyone but Grant informed me of the
surf influence common among the locals
who skate it. Riding hard and fast with
dedication and determination is the rule
here. Looking at the weather-worn
structure with its tight uneven transitions
and rickety construction techniques made
me wonder about the sanity of skating the
ramp at all.
Back at Grant's a session was already
in progress when we pulled in. Roskopp
was sessioning with Troy and Meekster
and coming close to pulling the elusive
540 McTwist. Cab, Christ and Guerrero
crawled in with Ivan in the early afternoon
still shaking off the effects of an in-town
rage the night before. Soon all were
sessioning the perfect structure which
Grant calls the 'Peace' ramp, typifying the
nature of the sessions that take place
there.
Another ramp that we were welcomed
at was Scott Allen's mini-structure near
Grant's house. Scott is 17 but looks 12 and
built his ramp to the specifications of his
small frame. He was ripping alongside
visitors Christian, Cab, Duncan, Meekster
and Tommy.
Rob Roskopp pushes a boneless
at Grant Fukuda's ramp barbecue session.
Caballero playing tourist
with a peacock at
Rob Burn's canyon dige