Swamp Trogs
from
Outer Space
TROGS ARE BORN AT AGE 15 with full body hair. They speak
loud and spit while talking. They wear long coats and two
pairs o' pants in the summer, and shorts, vests or half-
shirts during winter because trogs don't care. Swamp trogs
have few possessions, usually a mode of transportation-
some kind of board with trucks nailed on it--and smelly
pads, worn at all times. Trogs build with used materials from
the swamp or inherited from Grandpa Trog's tree fort. The
swamp goes off, but trogs move around too. They'll skate
anything and take the hardest beefs. Swamp trogs have no
designated lines, no runs, they just drop in. In fact, they
can't even remember their last ride or what they just did.
Trogs naturally hallucinate at all times. Everything is sponta-
neous for the trog; he could ride at any time. Stay aware
around trogs, there's no telling what might happen. -Monk
This article is dedicated to those skaters who care not for the
trappings of fame and glory, but rip like there is no tomor
row and will until the end of time. Brewce Martin (top left)
built his own deal and he kills it every day on anything he
can put his feet on, including this frontal on a seventies
Z-Woody. The inspiration of the swamp generation, Ricky
(above) after a hard day of sessioning. Old decks,
roached gear, who cares? Ken Lehman
(left) sweeps it up at Eastern Vert.
Be honest, if you saw Brad
Rastaman (opposite bottom)
skating your spot, you would
get out of his way, right?
When I jumped on my first board back in
the sixth grade, I had no idea that such an
innocent looking "toy" could ever become
such a permanent fixture in my life. So it
goes. From transportation to recreation, to
keeping me out of trouble with the law, my
board has always been there. Looking back, it
scares me to think about where I might be
today if I never had the good fortune to cross
paths with that first setup. Perhaps I might be
in jail, or maybe even dead. Thankfully I'll
never know. However, I do know that what I
have gotten from my board is priceless.
Most of you Johnny-come-lately, wannabe
new jack hustlers might not ever realize it,
but skating has a lot more to offer than just
the possibility of free boards, cool friends, and
easy money. I mean, where in the hell else can
you find even a fraction of the fun, freedom,
and personal challenge that a skateboard
oozes out on a daily basis? For instance, if
you haven't dodged traffic in the urban jungle,
then you haven't lived.
Just thinking about ridin' downtown puts
me into attack mode. The city can be cruel.
and you have to forever be on the offensive.
Whatever gets in my way is skated and vacat-
ed as I weave through the throngs of suit-
wearing mutards that do their best to get in
my way. Ridin' from spot to spot, at high
speed, during rush hour is my version of the
ultimate test for any urban "street skater."
On a good day, when all the stop lights are
working in my favor, I feel like I've figured out
where my place is in this fucked-up world.
That lasts for maybe a minute, then the feel-
ing disappears and I'm lost again. So it goes.
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