retainers and scraps of wood, and most formidable of.
all, a huge bowl in the center. The massive cement
crater must have been about 70 feet wide and 50
feet deep, with about seven feet of vert!
The skaters attacked the terrain like piranhas attack-
ing a bloody corpse. At speeds I didn't think were pos-
sible, they bombarded the obstacles.
from every angle. Sparks flew from
trucks, tails snapped against the ground,
wheels barked as they spun out. I
watched in amazement as a young girl
ripped the snake run, lofting a frontside
grab at least eight feet up in the air,
whipping around the corner in a back-
side Smith grind, another sick air, a dis-
aster slide for days, ollie one-foot over
the hip...
The old man pulled me aside. "This
place is sacred," he explained. "I have
spent my whole lifetime building this
place so real skating can survive its
current crisis. The people who come
here are from all walks of life. There
are vagabonds like myself, and people
with regular jobs who live the rest of
their lives outside of here in complete
normalcy. There are young kids,
women and men, people from foreign
lands, and people with power.
Everyone here is dedicated to skating
from the bottom of their souls; that is
why we construct places to skate any-
where we can as a tribute to all those
before us, and to practice this art that
has become so rare."
The old man got up and got one of his
bags. He had given me all the informa-
tion I needed, and I figured that if I
could have escaped then, my mission
would have been a complete success.
He handed me a skateboard. It was a
vintage Zorlac model, which I guessed
to be about a 1985, outfitted with
Independent trucks and Powell III
wheels. Amazingly, it was still in good
condition. "Thank you, I will treat it
well. You have taught me a lot, but I'm
afraid I must leave now," I said, trying to
fake sincerity. I felt as if he could see
right through me when he stared deeply
Clockwise from above: Some underground skaters believe in
passive resistance, but others take a more active role in the
war against the capitalists. Rebel Cairo Foster breaks out the
big guns and kickflips a gap with aggression. Insubordination
like Texas Dan's use of this pool for a frontside air up the
extension, instead of as a swimming facility, only underscores
the necessity of complete governmental control of youth
sporting activity. If insolent renegades like Brian Chung
believe that their Smith grinds will go unnoticed by the
cognoscenti, they better think again.
SCUM
68 THRASHER