LICK
Adam Luxford and Mike Finley doing the same
shit we're doing. They told of how they were
there setting up a ramp right down the street
for the Australian Rollerblading Championships.
"They're paying us a lot," says Lux. legitimiz-
ing. And that they were going on a full
Melbourne park mission the next day. We were
hooked up. The night kept going. I remember
blurs of people. Lee Ralph was one. I remember
a table breaking, lots of broken glass, and big
Samoan bouncers. We made plans to meet the
next morning before turning in.
Jake and I woke early to go check out the
ramp. The contest (what?) was in full turkey-
pumping swing. Jake walked up and took a run.
He bailed the 540° to which one kid said,
"Thanks for the demo, gramps, but this is
blades only. It was a good funny way to start
the day. We woke Bob and John, went and got
Lux and the others, and skated seven parks that
day. That night we corroboried on our next
move and decided we'd go to Tasmania in the
morning, an island off the southeastern tip of
Oz that the British empire had committed the
only documented act of complete and total
genocide against a people. The story goes that
they marched an army right across the island
killing (and other not killer things) every person
in their path. I didn't feel too good about fol-
lowing in the path they'd beaten. It couldn't be
helped. There was a '70s anaconda skakerun
out there we'd never skated. But I did and we
did and it was sick After skating the anaconda
'70s snakerun, righteous local Sean took us up
Mt McKinley
for the view
over Hobart
and a rooftop
bank. We
drank the
best tasting water ever coming out of the side
of the mountain and later drank the local beer
made from the same water.
Island fever hit us all real quick and within 24
hours of arriving we're on a plane back to the
mainland. We got in the car and started the long
drive west to Adelaide. In the backseat Bob's
consulting his mantra book of chakras. I'm in the
back too with my head leaned back and eyes
closed thinking about how much I actually do
not like any of these people (my trucks still
sucked). Jake's driving-head slightly forward,
features frozen tight and eyes eagle-eyed down
the road, now and again having trouble with the
shifter, revving it out, getting it right, and then
saying something like. "First and third run real
close together" or "The clutch is going." John's
sitting shotgun slouched low with his feet up on
the dash looking out the window and fucking
with the radio. I knew it was coming and wasn't
going to say anything, so I waited. After a few
minutes of staticy pop, Jake says, "Turn that
fucking shit off!" Bob looked up. I laughed. John
turned it off, a few minutes later saying, "Bitter
man..." We sat in silence looking out the window
for kangaroos and ideas. After a while I asked for
the radio and played the ACDC tape Hurley
stole from a party and sent me for Hanukkah.
It was getting on toward sunset. We'd
already skated two skateparks and swam in a
pristine volcanic lake that day. Coming up over
the mountains that surround Adelaide was like
coming into Los Angeles-an expansive flat
city. "That guy said there was a ramp lots of
people skate somewhere around where the
freeway ends," said someone. We were all eyes
peeled coming into the city. There it is! Pull
over," John said spotting it. Walking through
the park toward the ramp. I could see the peo-
ple skating knew what they were doing. Bob
was right behind me carrying his hipper like a
fannypack turned to the side, and I was glad he
was there. I didn't know who was skating or
what to expect, but someone as good as Bob
who earns respect by his skating benefits the
clueless travellers and opens doors. As it
turned out, those skating had heard we were
somewhere in the south and had been skating
there expecting us. Within a few minutes,
everyone had met everyone, and we had a
place to stay at one Steve Gorlay's place. It got
dark, the mosquitoes crawled out of their lit-
tle coffins, and we took off for our accommo-
dations just blocks from the beach.
I think it was at this point that it must've
dawned on everyone the true cadence of our
journey. How we'd set out free of connec-
tions and responsibilities and had managed
the better. The more random our possibili-
ties, the more diverse our returns. And our
returns had been skateparks after
skateparks. Between the four of us-between
Bob's reputation, John's gusto, Jake's mouth,
and me, I don't know what but not enough to
negate the positive-we'd managed in each
and every place we'd gone to hook up with
someone who knew. Someone who could put
us up (up with us), take us to the hard to find
parks that we were there for, and who, when
it was time to get on, could point us down
the road with a list in our hands of spots to
hit on the way toward the next city.
Clockwise from left: Thirty parks in, John Cardiel sleeps
hard with his eyes open. This is how Bob kept an even
keel. Your typical Australian Bogan. Where we all
thought we were going to end up after this trip.
We spent days in Adelaide
skating heavy 'crete, swim-
ming, and just kicking it at the
pad. We knew there was more
out there for us still. Luxford
had given us his number in
Sydney and said there was lots.
to ride and we could stay at his
place. It was time to leave. We
loaded up the car before dawn and started east
on our 14-hour drive through the bush to
Sydney, a gruelling all day drive in the
Australian summer heat that will have your
brains leaking from your eyes
Once in Sydney. Luxford took us to every-
thing old and new-skateparks from the '70s,
'80s and '90s-and at his house showed us
plans he'd drawn for another hundred prospec-
tive parks. We spent as much time as we could
skating as much as we could. And when it was
time to split, because we had to get back up
the coast to catch our plane. Lux was saying
there was still so much more, and it was too.
bad we had to split, but to come back and fin-
ish the tour sometime.
We made it up to Brisbane with two days to
spare. We skated four parks travelling up to the
sunshine coast from Brisbane one day. Slept on
the beach and skated four others the next day on
the drive back down. Once back in the city of
our departure with no further use for the car.
we ran it off a cliff into the river.
That night we barbecued at Mckenzie's
and in the morning we got on a plane
home. It was over.
The stewardess came over and told me that
the other passengers were complaining about
the smell and I was going to have to put my
shoes back on. "You put them on." I told her.
"I'm done with them." "If you don't, we're
going to have to stop the movie." "So." She
walked away, and a few minutes later anoth-
er lady came up and said if I put my shoes.
on they'd upgrade me to first class. I looked
over at John and back to her. "Nah... but I got
an idea, why don't you release the oxygen
masks?" She walked away, and a few minutes
later the air masks dropped. People grabbed
at them and breathed greedily. It's funny how
your feet don't really smell to yourself
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