those I'm to contact. I figure all I've gotta do
is exchange some dollars into marks, get a
hotel, make some phone calls, drink some
beers, eat some food, take some taxis and
I'll be a happy clam back on track. This leads
me to flaw number two. The money exchange
booth in the train station closed at 8 p.m.
I'm beginning to feel psycho. I know it's
a piss-poor attitude for a foreigner to have
in Germany, but "piss-poor" is the best I can
come up with in this situation.
Then it hits me. I have Amex. Across from
the station I spot a hotel. Not knowing if they
have jaywalking laws in Germany, I traverse
Bahnhofstr., a busy five-lane, one-way street.
Luckily, the hotel accepts Amex.
A pamphlet on the check-in counter
catches my eye. It's a calendar of events for
the month of July, and on its cover is a
photograph of Ralf Middendorf doing an in-
vert on a halfpipe. The Münster Monster
Mastership pro/am contest I am to attend, is
well publicized.
With a little begging, I coerce the lady
behind the counter into looking up the phone
numbers I need. A shower, shave, four Dort-
münders and a phone call later, I'm hooked
up with Jimi Scott, Dan Wilkes and Captain
Tracker. Their cue is an Italian restaurant only
a few blocks away.
The menu is in Italian with descriptions
translated into German. A "double-no-com-
prende" situation. With numerous hand
gestures, we manage to order in just under
twenty-five minutes.
Walking back to the hotel, we enter a con-
venience store. I get a nice bottle of red wine
and the rest of the crew accumulate a variety
of beer samplings. As we leave, the owner
gets into a drag-out fight with his wife. We
hear them screaming from two blocks away.
I go back to my room to flip, flop and die.
THURSDAY, JULY 8
My phone rings very loudly, very early in
the morning. Apparently the phones in Ger-
many lack a volume control. It is Peter Kiis,
Czechoslovakian refugee. I join him and a
group of his acquaintances at a cafe next to
the train station. Over a breakfast of beer and
a coke, I listen as Peter tells of a skate spot
called the Kinderhaus banks. It's supposedly
some red-brick terrain, with rolling transitions
and the possibility of back and forth action.
He appoints himself the quest of finding
directions.
After breakfast I excuse myself for further
researching purposes. Peter directs me
toward the skate shop and promises to leave
word at my hotel if anything materializes on
the Kinderhaus quest.
Strolling down Bahnhofstr., in the direction
of the shop, I stop at a kiosk and purchase
a bratwurst sandwich. The German concept
of the hot dog is a four-inch long bun for a
ten-inch long, two-inch thick weenie. Contin-
uing down the street, holding this obscene
meal out in front of me, I debate the possi-
bilities of a dignified way of consuming it. I
resolve to tear half of it off and chuck it in
the dirt.
Upon reaching the shop I encounter Bruno
Peeters (skater: Belguim), who arrived only
62
minutes before. Practice for the competition
won't begin until early Friday morning so
today is an off day for the skaters. We decide
to take a culture walk. Apparently, Münster
was heavily targeted by Allied bombing dur-
ing WWII, which destroyed much of the city.
The majority of the now existing architecture
is post-war Marshall Plan Modern. There are
a few restored buildings that did survive the
wrath of the allies, as is visually evident by
extensive patchwork.
We run into Peter Kiis in front of the hotel.
He's highly excited, and shouts instructions
for the Kinderhaus quest-what we have to
do and how important it is for us to do it very
fast. Somehow, Peter has commandeered a
Chevy Suburban, "Quickly, quickly, we must
go now. Get your equipment and everybody
get into the van." The load includes Grosso,
Christ and Jason Jesse who, arrived just a
few hours ago, only to be jerked out of their
rooms by Peter, while they were attempting
to sleep off some jet lag.
Ten minutes later the brick spot is being
sessioned. The locals observe while the
Americans come in and begin rolling around
hardstyle. Christ immediately hones in on the
line for gyrational forever carves and
powerslides into high banked nose wheelies.
Peter Kiis, self-appointed squad leader,
works some high speed backside Owl
carves. Grosso and Jason tiptoe the lip with
some two-wheeled teeter carve fun. The
locals occupy themselves by soaking up the
proceedings, taking only an occasional run.
Jason notices that they're doing repetitive
boneless style tricks on banks that offer some
great speed lines. In other words, the locals
aren't utilizing the banks to their fullest poten-
tial, so the Californians set about the task.
of demonstrating the "textbook" way to
"session-da-banks." Christ does a footplant
booster, at the top of the bank, flying six to
eight feet through the air. Grosso goofs up
and down through the grouping of locals then
joins Jason and skates away to
some other vacant banks. It is
starting to zoo out.
The sun is fairly low in the
evening sky. Someone says the
time is 9:30. The American
group is still somewhat travel
pooped and hungry, thus the
call is for showers and food. The
dinner group is bigger than the
skate group, having been joined
by Pat Ngoho and Monty Nolder.
The Italian restaurant is again
assaulted. It's becoming the of-
ficial skater's place to eat. This
makes total sense, since you
can't go wrong with Italian food.
I retire after dinner as the rest of
the mob is screaming out for
"nightclubs!"
FRIDAY, JULY 9
At Hälle Münsterland, the at-
mosphere is filled with activity.
At one end of the arena is the
halfpipe. It is 12 meters wide,
with a 3-meter transition, 0.3
meters of vertical, a 1.1-meter
channel, two extensions (0.3 and 0.5 meters),
metal coping and a wooden riding surface.
It was built last year for the cool sum of 45,000
D-Marks. The rest of the arena is being used
for freestyle, streetstyle and slalom practice.
The streetstyle course includes a long steel
railslide structure with a hump at one end.
Eric Dressen is the first I see ollie up on it
and double-truck grind the full length. Soon
Caballero and Guerrero duplicate the ter-
rorizing. Frank Messman, of Denmark, high
speeds a boardslide, but loses it on the
hump. Arms flailing, legs twisting, body
stradling the slider and WHAM! Face smack
on the bar for one bloody nose. Medic!
In one area of the course there is a small,
three-foot high pyramid launch ramp, and
another basic 45° jump ramp. There also
stands a multi-structured ramp with various
angled and radius transitions, a railing, a
metal lip and a flat deck. This thing is being
assaulted from every possible direction.
The floor surface has been installed
specifically for the contest. It is lightly coated
plywood, laid across the whole floor of the
arena to protect the fine, high-gloss finish.
Owen Neider appears from out of
nowhere, taking giant pushes across the
floor, and catapults off one of the jump ramps
narrowly missing the heads of a few non-
payers-of-attention. Monty Nolder lands
wrong coming across the multi-ramp, and
sits on the floor cursing. Medics come in and
haul him off to the caverns of Münsterland
for closer examination. ►
BAT
Previous Spread: Martin van Doren of West Germany blasting
before a full house during the amateur halfpipe finals. Inserts:
On the left are the pro halfpipe winners, Christ Hosol, Jason
Jesse and Steve Caballero. On the right are winning French
freestylers Pierre Andre (pro, first), Jean Marc Vaissette (pro,
second) and Denis Terras (am, first). This Spread: Denmark's
versatile Nicky Guerrero (far left) zips up the hump during the
professional streetstyle event. Jeff Hedges (left) won big in the
amateur streetstyle and halfpipe events. Steve Caballero
(above) jettisons over the multi-ramp and into first place in the
streetstyle. He also (upper right) brandished his vertical
wizardry to secure a second place in the halfpipe event.