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Left: Steal-a-flash shot of Remy find-
ing the Nude's shallow end kink via a
tailslide. Here: Must have more vert!
Roth airs out at Foundation.
超
STORY & PHOTOS BY
MICHAEL BURNETT
BUMNS
Jake Phelps,
Well, we finally left for our big West Coast tour-we
being Me, Texas Dan, Roth and Steve Revord. I've never
traveled with any of these guys before, although I have
known all of them for several years through skating at
the park and general hanging out. You'd like all of them.
Texas Dan turned 26 on the trip and is originally from
Kansas. He likes to be called Texas because he hated growing
up in Wichita so much. He told us about all the times be
made his mom cry in high school by starting up "Why do we
have to live in this crappy town?" arguments. Tex's real fest
name is Jay, but if you call him Kansas Jay, he'll yell, "Don't
ever say the K word" He's funny.
hills and scrubby bushes-real Road Runner cartoon type land-
scape. Although we got there in early October, it was dog-
locked-in-the-car hot with 103' being the afternoon high. Tex
had befriended the legendary Salba when he came through
Boulder last year for the Warped Tour and had called him before
we left to get his brother Micke's number who lives in Phoenix
Unfortunately, Micke's duties at
at Home Depot have kept him
from skating too much, so we were put in contact with a guy
named Jeff who gave us directions to a pool to meet at later.
Phoenix pool skaters h
s have gotten a windfall over the last ten
years as a new highway is slowly replacing homes across the
city. As each block is bought up, the pools in the yards of the
soon-to-be-demolished homes are drained and stand e
while the city takes its sweet time dozing the homes.
dempty
time to tell you about all the crazy dreams I had in my early days
of skating. If my dad would have let me, I had plans for the most
elaborate bowls, spines and snakeruns that would fill our back-
yard. I would often even go back behind the trees with the tape
measure to see exactly how wide my combi-pool could be.
Nothing more than a driveway quarter-pipe ever came to
fruition, but I always told myself I would create my wonderland
If I ever won the lottery or otherwise came into a lot of cash
Well, Jake, it was like a weird deja vu when I walked into Paul
Stapleton's backyard. Trailing off the porch and around the
side of his house was a concrete snake run/bowl set-up that was
straight out of my eighth grade math class daydreams. We ses
sioned with Paul, Jeff and Paul's ten-year-old son, Shane, until
the latter had to go to bed. It was the kind of skating that
Roth is always called Roth even though his first name is
THE POOLS IN THE YARDS OF THE SOON-TO-BE-DEMOLISHED HOMES ARE DRAINED
AND STAND EMPTY WHILE THE CITY TAKES ITS SWEET TIME DOZING THE HOMES.
Mark. I've told you about him before-he's the big, spastic, Coke
guzzling guy that rules the vert ramp at home. When we first met
him, we thought he was foreign because he looks so Nordic.
He's got a crazy sense of humor that sometimes throws
strangers for a loop. We took his car-a Volkswagen Vanagon
that his mom got him for graduating college. Mark's 27, but has
energy
Steve Revord was the last passenger, and he's pretty quiet
except when he decides to go nuts. He fluctuated from seem
ing half asleep to jumping around drunk with his mess hanging
out. Steve skates everything with smoothness and speed. He
looks a lot like Jeff Kendall
The p primary organizer of the trip was Tex, who's mov
ing to Phoenix in February to attend motorcycle repair
school. He wanted to check it out beforehand so Arizona
was our first destination
The land outside Phoenix looks like Mexico with little dirty
To kill time, we stopped by a skateshop and were given
directions to the wedge, a bank, ledge and curb spot that you
might have seen pictures or video of kids jumping over picnic
tables at. It was fun, but the heat eventually forced us into a
local mall where we soaked up the AC. It was funny, the guys
at the skateshop suggested we check out Thrasher and when
I asked if there were any ramps around. That place has been
closed for over two years. I sometimes forget about all the kids
that only skate street.
Five o'clock rolled around and we showed up at the pool only
to find it filled in with a bunch of concrete and garbage
Fortunately, the pool next door was also drained. As we were
checking it out, the woman living there walked up to us and said
it was OK if we skated, just as long as we waited until after she
left-unheard of! We bailed the last few inches of muck out of
the bottom just in time for darkness. It was kind of too tight
anyway. Jeff showed up as we were leaving and told us that a
friend of his
GREASY SPOON
had a small
skatepark in his
yard we could
I probably
just be noseslide.
box or something."
I said as we followed
him across town
I think now is the
reminds you how good just riding a skateboard can feel. We
gulped down plastic cup after cup of ice water and then said our
thanks. Our session at Paul's really gave me a good feeling about
the rest of the trip
The next morning we drove out to Palm Springs and the
ridiculously legendary Nude Bowl. The Nude is a spot I might
have just as soon skipped over on our West Coast adventure had
it not been for Texas Dan's obsession with it.
"Nude Bow" he started shouting as soon as we got in the car.
He was like a kid getting his braces off as we headed up the
winding dirt road to
t road to the remains of the nudist colony.
I recently read an interview with Simon Woodstock where he
talked about how skateboarding is like a religion. I thought of it
again as I listened to Tex talk excitedly about the Nude as if it
were holy ground
This is skateboarding's history, Mike." he told me
I could tell he really meant it
As we got to the landing below the pool, we saw that others
were there. I worried they might be some of the locals whose
presence was known by t
by the endless litter of shotgun shells that
covered the ground. Instead we were greeted by Remy Stratton
Rune Gifberg and some of their photographer friends
The pool was surrounded with slave flashes because Remy
was shooting an ad for Stratocaster Guitars. So much for holy
land. It was silly. He had to do a bunch of carves and grinds
holding this big box that held the "Strat Pack," a ready-to-roll
guitar and amp combo. At the same time, a guy dressed up in a
cool hat and sunglasses was doing rock poses on the hill in the
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