as the first, but he was already thrashed.
Speaking of hurtin', it turned out ol' Dirty
Al was still asleep with a hangover on the
park bench. Dirty Al didn't awake until 4
PM. About this time the rest of us decided
it was time to leave. The kids were getting
out of school and a dirt clod fight was
spilling over from the nearby trailer park.
Tuesday
In the morning, we awoke to a light rain
and decided to take it easy reading skate
mags and playing "Skate or Die" on the
PlayStation. About noon the streets were
dry and Al had this gap to tailslide he
wanted to get on film. About half the tries
he stuck, but the last few he really slid. We
had to make it to Newton by 4 PM-only
three hours away. So we hit the road.
Newton, Kansas, is a satellite city of
Wichita and home to Dennis "The
Germinator" Busenitz. There isn't much to
Newton, just a few hotels and a meager
downtown. Due to the city's flat elevation,
there is not much in the way of stairs and
gaps or hills to bomb.
We hooked up with Dennis at a shitty
diner just off the highway and he sug-
gested we go to these old basketball courts
by the rec center to warm up. What he
didn't tell us was that he had built a little
skatepark there and the city was cool with
it. Dennis, who is in welding school, built
some of the skate obstacles for class proj-
ects. There is a little ollie kicker, a couple
of boxes, and some knee-high rails. The
killer rail is a knee-high corner rail that is
totally solid and a perfect example of what
to do if you live in the middle of nowhere.
Instead of bitching and complaining, do
something about it. All of this was built
"Instead of
Dennis Busenitz takes the back w
into his homemade skatepar
bitching and complaining,
do something about it
with no money from the city and is bigger
and better-designed than many parks that,
according to city budgets, cost upward of
$60,000. It just goes to prove that skaters
make skateparks. Expensive city planners
do not.
It didn't look as if Dennis needed a warm-
up because right away he did a k-grind nol-
lie over and out of the corner rail. We all.
skated there for about half an hour when
Dennis suggested that we go to a handrail
before it got dark.
During the 17 minutes spent at the
handrail, Dennis managed to frontside
boardslide it within four tries and kickflip it
by the third try. After landing the kickflip the
police pulled onto the street.
"Quick! One more try before the cops!"
Dennis yelled.
He ran up the stairs, turned around,
pushed, and as he was over the rail the cops
yelled, "Stop that right now! There has to be
a better place to do your little skateboard
tricks."
Apparently, someone called in a report
about Dennis skating out into the street
into traffic.
Hoping for some understanding, I agre
with them that he was rolling into the str
but that we were watching for cars and
trying to be safe. They were not impress
and ran a check on our names. Obvious
they were not too serious because they
asked for names and didn't ask to see ID Crack fiend Dirty Al backside disas-
ters at the midwestern moon park.
They sent us on our way.
Dave Nelson hardflips into the bank at Junction City
By now it was dark so we decided to head back to Lawrence for the
evening and meet Dennis again the next day in Wichita. Looking at the
map, I determined that there was a shorter route to the turnpike, but we
would have to take a two-lane highway for a while. Not wanting to get on
the wrong road, we stopped at a gas station to ask for directions. (Yes,
contradictory to what my girlfriend thinks, guys can and do ask for direc-
tions.) I asked the heavyset lady working behind the counter which road
would take us to the turnpike.
"Turnpike?" she replied.
I repeated myself, figuring she didn't hear me correctly, but I got the
same reply. I rephrased the question.
"Which way to the toll road?"
She continued to shake her head and say she didn't know. After I asked
for a map, she asked if we needed to get to Kansas City.
"Sure," I said.
"Take that road to Cassody," pointing to the road the gas station was
on. Soon, we were on our way. Little thanks to her.
With a clear sky above and no city lights, we took turns naming all the
constellations we knew while listening to Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson
Unplugged.
We made it back to Lawrence just in time for a quick session at the
park before the lights went out. The day had been humid in Lawrence,
and the cooling air caused the ramps to sweat. I slammed on a wet tran-
sition and called it quits early.
118 THRASHER
119