HOWDY
FROM THE LONE STAR
STATE
TEXAS
Story & photos by
Michael Burnett
AS KIDS ACROSS THE NATION flock to the famous
benches and high-profile ledges of California faster
than you can say "caught clean," a few friends and I
recently made the much less glamorous trip south to
see what the Lone Star State had to offer. It's been
said that Texas is like a whole other country, which
became more believable after we drove for ten hours
seeing little more than fields and an occasional Dairy
Queen. Desperately in need of gas, we turned into a town
ironically called "Happy," where we not only didn't find a
service station, but the only person we saw sprint-
ed into her home upon seeing us. With thoughts
of Texas chainsaw massacres in our heads,
we got the hell out
of Happy.
After quickly exhausting my cone tricks (one-
footed ollies), I set out to skate the brick whip-
lash walls I'd spotted on the way into town.
doned after the days of the Sims Street wheels.
by the locals, we struggled our way up them
while our hosts waited politely in the car till we
got the slash out of our system.
Home to dust storms, The evening was spent with a
First stop was the beautiful city of Lubbock,
Texas. Lubbock is not only the birthplace of
rock pioneer Buddy Holly, but it is also home to
dust storms, tumbleweeds, and girls
with exceedingly large hair.
Following a tip, we located the
only skate shop in town, Dealers,
which was conveniently located
in the back room of a
Mexican print shop in
the downtown area. The
friendly locals (with only
tumbleweeds, and girls
trip to the all-you-can-eat
pizza place followed by a ses-
sion at the ultra-smooth
ledges of Autobank,
with exceedingly large hair.
ten skaters in town, vibing doesn't make much
sense) took us to a nearby parking garage
where they pulled out orange cones to session.
Built as a tribute to the great Buddy Holly,
these rough brick curves were positioned atop
even rougher cobblestone. Long since aban
where the locals' tell
stories about when
Z-Roller pro Butch.
Sterbins came to town. Lubbock is bitchin'.
Our next stop was a much-anticipated visit
to Dallas and Jeff Phillips Skatepark. Yes, I
know it has some fresh new rollerblade
name but let's just call it Phillips'. Little has
changed since the park switched owners
except for the annoying presence of the
eight-wheeled wiggling menace (and a new
ridiculous $29 membership fee), and we
soon found ourselves flying around the
temple of transition as happy as Barry
Zaritsky in a boy's locker room.
Phillips' features a number of minis, a
bowl, spines, hips, vert and the highlight:
The street bowl. Now street and bowl may
seem to be a contradiction in terms, but
whatever you want to call it, the non-stop
course of hips, escalators, channels and
pyramids offered more lines than most
Jesse Reed (above) kickflips the hip at Houston's
Southside Skatepark. Marcus Valdes (left) ollies the
spine at Austin's Lizard Ditch. Cut down in his prime,
Buddy Holly (opposite) will play on for eternity.