Hubbard's mean machine. "The Couldron" (above),
is always on the road and looking for a session.
Skip and Shorty (top) stole some bikes just to piss
off the locals at White Rock. The run at White Rock
is kinda gnarly because you've got to charge down-
hill to get enough speed to hit the hip uphill-Karma
Tsocheff (opposite left) adjusted properly. Gonz (for
right) never has a vert deck, he tries 'em all on the
platform until he finds one he likes-slob fastplant
service on the way to the hall of fame. His fear of
heights doesn't bother Gershon Mosely (opposite
bottom) on 360 flip Indys to fokie.
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SUP
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AIRWALK
SIRWALK
bes all living out the grunger
fantasy. We saw a couple of
punk shows and started
some fights in the name of
good clean fun. The van got
rocked and the blood was
spilled, so it goes. Cards.
bought a shotgun, so we
were ready for some drama, if
you know what I mean.
We split for the contest on
Friday morning caravan-style
with the Consolidated crew in
the stationwagon and the oth-
ers in the Munkmobile, which
is also known as the Cauldron.
Munk's machine is a fine piece
of work, I was fortunate to
ride in it on a pool tour late
last year and it had no seats,
just buckets, and Munk's rule
of thumb was, "If the cops
look at you funny, just salute
them as if to say, 'Carry on,"
and then they won't fuck with
you. We all made immigra-
tion, except Julien who was
told that he could not come
into Canada for another five
years because of the same
old shit. He hitched back to
Seattle, while we went to the
White Rock bowl just over the
border. The downhill concrete
pit was fast and scary, but as
usual, the locals had it wired.
They'd haul down that thing
at a thousand miles an hour
and blast the biggest airs out
and land like twenty feet
away. It was sick. We cut to
Vancouver and saw the usual
faces all vacantly staring out
at the still under construction
street course. The vert ramp
was done but there was no
one riding it. We went down
the road to the Clubhouse
where there was a fat session