Glant
Sucking
Sound
Story and photos by Michael Burnett
Clockwise
from spread:
With his English
accent, Dan "Jagger"
Ball gets lots of tail.
Backside slider at Hair
Lair. Kansas' only pro,
Khampi Saga. Stalefish
at Edgemore.
Living in comfortable college towns, beach
communities or booming cosmopolitan
metropolises, it's easy to forget about the rest of
America-the so-called Middle America
This place, which has no formal boundaries,
basically includes everywhere missing from the
above list. It's where most people live. You may
have seen glimpses of Middle America on TV
from time to time on programs like The Dukes
of Hazzard, Roseanne, and the news; however, to
really experience what most of the country is
like, it's important to flee the safety of good
weather, intellectual opportunity and excitement,
and head inland.
For all of you Middle Americans, I apologize for
this introduction that must seem a bit tedious (it's
mostly for the benefit of the California readers),
but I also think you can attest to the fact that
Middle America either SUCKS YOU IN OR SPITS
YOU OUT.
I've been spat out, as have my companions on
the trip: Scott Bourne from Raleigh, North
Carolina, and Jason Phares from Newton,
Kansas. They drove from their home in San
Francisco and met me in Boulder, Colorado. Our
road trip machine, a 1988 Ford Festiva (nick-
named the Weasel), would return us to our roots,
if only for a short visit
First stop: Wichita, Kansas-a place that has
"skate town" written all over it, if not for its location
in Middle America. While in Wichita, we sessioned
street spots, mini-ramps, a drained waterpark, and
a place called Edgemore, which rivals the late
Sadlands with its tight volcano-style terrain. Heck,
Wichita even has its own pro, Z-boy Khampi Saga
Our visit to town managed to coax some of the old-
timers out of hiding for a big ramp session on the
cheese-grater-of-death metal mini
Other Wichita highlights include a visit with a
young man named Gieb, who had a stockpile of
firearms at his house. He even let us shoot them at
the furniture. Gieb had about a million stories about
all the messed-up Kansas skate kids including some-
body named Walba, which stood for Wetback
Alba, who was presently serving prison time. He
would barely pause for a bong hit before telling us
one ridiculous story after another.
"Damn it, it's about time I get some coverage,"
he said when I pulled out my camera.
On Halloween night, we hit downtown Wichita
where a fat woman dressed as a prostitute threat-
ened to take me out in the parking lot and smash
my head in after Jason and I made the mistake of
doing "the butt" in her general vicinity. Wichita is
bad ass.
On the way out of Kansas, we were briefly wel-
comed back to the good-natured liberalism of the
small college town of Lawrence. After a week or so
of Wichita, it was a relief to see punk rockers, hip-
pies and lots of kids our age again. We stayed with
Michael Crouch and Tuan Le and rode their tight
backyard mini. Michael is an amazing skater who
rode for Vision and Small Room in his earlier days.
but is now content to go to school, play the banjo.
and skate for fun.
The next night we hooked up with Phil Burcher
at his shop, Precision Skates, in Lincoln, Nebraska
The shop has a cool lighted sign featuring pictures of