Party 'til ya puke!

Shit ton o' dudes from back east and the midwest in town to shred the rad. Last weekend was a bit of a rainout, but it's dried up. Sunday we spent an hour trying to dry the Cowtown ramp, and then got to skate for about 45 minutes. Then it was on to Venezia's Pizza, where Rick and Jim tempted fate by ordering a party pizza. If two people eat in in an hour, they get their picture on the wall and a free t-shirt. Record is 7 minutes? Cray cray. Here they are on their first slices, all bluster and confidence. 

Only a slice and a half left. Rick is looking worked, Jim has had a mouth full of food for about 10 minutes. They're contemplating throwing in the towel. The clock is ticking. 

Clean plate club! Jim still has a full mouth of chewed up pizza. We thought it was a done deal. T-shirts and photo coming right up. Jim gave a little grunt of a warning, the booth was evacuated, and then he did a miniature proectile vomit. Nobody who worked there saw, but he felt it was his duty to report it. Too nice of a guy -- the guy behind the counter said they were DQed for puking. all they had to show was a pizza hangover and greasy shits for days.

Evidence CV: Self-incriminating

So, due to the overwhelming number of requests for photos of me on my own blog, I have succumbed. Taken by B-Rad Wescott and pinched from his Tumbler site, I can’t even remember where this is from which is odd because I don’t frequently wear a helmet – what’s the use? There’s nothing in there worth protecting anyway. I am going to go ahead and say it is likely from the first Rumble in Ramona. Ol’ Barney tried to get radical. But seriously, I believe this is what the kids are calling “selfies.” It never ceases to amaze me how many people post innumerable photos of themselves on Facebook, blogs, etc., that are simply not interesting, but there are egos to be fed (apparently some egos are very hungry). And because this is all about me, below is a link to a video that Ham’n’Cheese shot a couple years ago, a board’s eye view of a run at the now-defunct Hobbit Hole/Pockets/Pool of the Year/Pool of the Millenium/Pool of the Trimester/Whatever, etc., blah, blah, blah. Look closely my friends, you might spot death. Am I popular yet?

http://www.flickr.com/photos/joehammeke/4794673033/

Can't embed for some reason -- Flicker won't allow? Write if you have a fix.

Evidence CIV: Adam's, again.

Back to Adam's on another Sunday afternoon. Lined up the pool for some out of town shredders and we expected a big session. Those guys showed, and promptly bailed. More runs for us, although I gotta admit I was a shitbag and only took a couple runs. Science found his groove, and launched a FS boneless, not a common trick in the backyards of America.

He also roped in a 50-50 in the shallow.

Craig's got these stairs, but they gave him a little trouble that day.

Rad to skate with C. Kelly, FSG over death.

 

Evidence.

Science didn't rope this one in either, but gave it a good go. I wanted to put it in because every try -- at least 20 -- Chris, Sam, Sam, and Craig would cheers in the background. If Science would've kept trying, those guys woulda been hammered.

Evidence CIII: Round Mound of Brown and Return to the Burn Victim

The Evidence is wearing away.

Back to the round mound of brown for a few quick turns. It's still a go, but I'll be damned if this little one didn't seem tighter. Perhaps it's because we've broken our drought of 6-footers -- seems like that's all we were skating in November and December. Dickborg cops a FSG.

American craft: homemade death box cover.

Sloppy Sam Shreds Stairs.

Light fading, we headed to the burn victim. Burned down house, Court, Dickborg and I pumped and cleaned it ages ago. It was good and deep, but slippery. It got the paint treatment, and we were there for the second post-paint treatment. My problem is wanting to take runs and not taking photos until the light is almost gone... 

So I get bail shots of Court, board flying at my head...

And late photos of Science Fair, post nosegrab FSG...

But I did get Hoss' patented concentrated tail scrape. Legit trick name, see Thrasher ca. 1985, photo of Matt Gallardo, first Wake Up and Smell the Pavement Contest, Seattle, WA, coined by Larry Reid.

Avengers: Thin White Line

 Been sick as a dog the past couple of days, no skating, no motorbikes. I'm pulling through, though, so it's time to rock. Been digging the Avengers lately. Used to play "We are the one" out all the time, but I've moved on to "Thin white line." Killer guitar, killer vox, this one kills.

   

Evidence CII: Sam and Dave, Quick Session at Adam's

 Previous night involved beers at the Time Out Lounge, The OJ Wheels dudes coming by, and Sam, Dave, Dirty, and Mark from Artisan Skateparks. Some blew it, others thought they blew it -- no need to apologize more than once for shit people don't care about Cranny, no harm, no foul! -- but it was a good time had by all, especially after skating two pools just prior. So the next day started low-key. Lined up Adam's, but everyone had this or that to do. Plus, it was 45 degrees out or something, cold as shit. Sloppy Sam Batterson and Dave "Science Fair" Maxwell finally rolled up in time to head to Adam's for a few grinds and whatnot. An early slam and the chill had me wary, but those guys stoked the session. Got a good photo of Dave, nosegrab grind. Missed the photo of Sam, BS carve grind, but it's a pretty picture anyway. Then I blew his FSG in the shallow as well. We'll have to go back. I was just stoked to skate with Sam and Dave. They are soul men.

Evidence CI: Minor Bust, Ripe Ride, and Cakefarts

So after spending some time painting the bell-shaped pool, now named "White Line Fever" for obvious reasons, we went back to shred. Tough nut to crack. The jacuzzi wall in the shallow has no tranny, and speed can be hard to come by. It started to open up, however. Then the cops came. They snuck up in the yard of the abandoned house net door, and then one of the cops hopped up and straddled the cinder block fence. Looked uncomfortable. He popped up right when Craig started a run, so he watched until CRaig was done. Joe asked if someone called, cop said yes, we said, "OK we're out." No ID check, no guff, we just walked out. Perhaps we'll be back after a cool-down period... Session got cut short, no time to plaster a sticker or get good photos. Top is Joe, FSG, below is Brad grinding the love seat (PH: Hoss).

 We hightailed it to the other Anthony -- special this week, paint one, get one free. Craig, BSG, Below: Hoss, BSG.

 Joe, FSG. Below: Evidence.

 Back to the Foundry to stoke the fire and tell some tales. Court's on point with the bag of peanuts. The discussion turned to "cakefarts." Google it, watch the video, NSFW.

Evidence C: Duty Now for the Future

 Sometimes pool skating involves not pool skating. Joe and Craig cleaned one the other day, but it had a waxy, slick surface. The call was made for paint. After refusing the upsell at Homes Depot, the $30-for-5-gallons maintenance white went down. The neighbor across the alley watched, but seemed not to care. Shit, we were the maintenance guys. This one's bell shaped, and another Anthony. Must be a special this week: paint one Anthony, get one free.

Evidence XCIX: Back for More

 It's a universal truth: hit a killer pool more than once, and the thing will open up. The burl-o-meter was rising as Court, Joe, Craig, Dickborg, Hoss and I returned, this time with Livi. Heavy session, but once again a friendly environment and we felt like cutting loose. Amazing bowl. Big and open, with 4-finger Anthony coping. I like that shit, though. Grinds good.

 Livi gets a little FSG action.

 Sorry Court, cut off the old arms and snapped a millisecond late, but those were some heavy grinders.

 

Livi, FS Air. This pools is so good I try to skate as much as possible, and wait until it's getting dark (and dusty) to take photos. Don't like it? Start yer own blodge.

 Open up it did! Open up to Country Joe's BS air. He blasted another but not a make, but I bet it'll go down next time.

Oh yeah, forgot, Joseph picked the nose as well.

Time for some Sabbath

Dudes, my mind is pretty much blown at this point. Tip of the hat to Nipper at Seattle's Stranger for the blown mind. This shit is far out.

Evidence XCVIII: Smallest Pool in the Universe

Hoss is ever the optimist. He sees the value in nearly everything, including any pool that doesn't have any (or much) water in it. "We gotta skate that thing!" he'll say, "It's gonna be fun!" Frequently he is right as rain, and Hoss definitely finds a good number of pools. Occasionally, however, he is not right as rain, but more like right as... I dunno?... mud? Shit? Anyway, this was the latest "we gotta skate this" pool. We showed up to the house -- it is being renovated, but is empty. We park in the driveway as it seems chill and people can't see us. We get in the backyard, and the damn thing is about 6 feet across in the deep end and 5 feet deep. First thing I do is jump from side to side. The water was dank and stinky, but there wasn't much so we bucketed. This was one of those pools where I seriously consider walking away. Maybe I should have: second run, major slammage. WTF? Only line is to kickturn over the light. I was worried about my grind percentage. Well, not really, but it's a running joke. For those not mathematically inclined, one's grind percetage is the number of pools one grinds divided by the number of pool one has ridden. Over my lifetime, I estimate I am over 95%, possibly around 98%. Three years ago when I was forced to count the number of pools I skated in a year (54), I didn't grind two of them. That was also a bad year (for me, for grinding). So, it's not really serious, but it is also kind of indicative: why would I want to skate a pool that looks so shitty that I can't grind it? Hoss convinced me to take a couple runs. Then Hoss grinded it. Then I got a wheel on that chunky cool deck, after that terrible slam. Next run, I got my little grinder, and promptly stopped skating that awful, terrible, no-good piece of shit tiny pool. Grind percentage increased! Best part about the pool: the floral tile pattern.

Hoss with some advice for those who might want to come back and skate this little turd.

 

First thing I did was call up Court, Dickbourg, and Joe, and let 'em know I got the new S.P.O.T.Y.: "smallest pool of the year."

Scoped another solid looking pool, bullnose coping, just down the way, but the owners are storing shit in it. Still -- might be worth a knock on the door...

Evidence XCVII: Light After Death!

 

Joe gave Hoss and I the word to head over to the Foundry to meet up and skate a new one. We get there, and Nick Dephinger is there by himself. Apparently the dudes went to go clean the pool without us, wanting to keep the number of heads in the yard to a minimum. Then they'd come back for us. We waited... and waited... and 45 minutes later or so, the crew comes back. Clean pool. Full go. We piled into Joe's truck, parked, and hit the alley, Hoss flying his green jeans.

 More evidence in 2013!

 Gnarly, full-finger Anthony coping, with nature just beginning to take over. Below, Joe threads the tight line over the ladder and into the no-tranny wall, and Hoss gets it backside. Still can't get this damn thing to rotate photos.

 Proving that sometimes there is light after death, Joe storms the deathbox then powers over the light. Gnarboots. Let's go back there...

Evidence XCVI: Happy 2013!

Hoss picked me up from the airport after I got back from Seattle. Our plan, hatched weeks prior, was to head to the Fountain of Youth first, and then hit Big Surf. For those who don't know, skating the Fountain of Youth on January 1 actually takes a year off of your age. No shit. But it was not meant to be: wet weather and mud in AZ had conspired against the rip. It had been bucketed, but would not dry due to being in the shade and muddy and damp. Big Surf has new overbearing security, apparently, and Ham'n'Cheese was kicked out a few days prior. So... Adam's it was. Local standby from a stand up guy, Adam lets us skate whenever we want (pretty much), and New Year's Day was no exception. Got some grinds in the new year. Craig got the stairs, gnarly.

Didn't get any photos of Livi's insane shallow end BS ollies, but he went the other way over the stairs.

Skedaddle to Seattle!

 

Skedaddled to Seattle for Xmas and NYE with the family and Meggers!

First opportunity to skate: Morris, Gin, Matt and Marianne showed up to Delridge to dry to dry the park after a rainy morning. Jay Iding made a shoing too, bonus! This section was pretty much dry enough to skate when the clouds rolled in and we got pissed on. So we went to Marginal Way.

Yeah! Maginal!

Place is fun to skate, getting better every time I go back, thanks to the heads for doing it. Funny graffiti this time around: Please be nice to the scooter kooks.

And if you needed some gay-friendly health advice, there's this pearl of wisdom.

Actual snow came down in Bellingham on Christmas Day. White Christmas!

Went to the Museum of History and Indsutry's grand opening with Meg and my dad. Awesome boats outside, and amazing exhibits inside. The iconic "Toe" truck.

Hat and boot! Shot a photo of Danny Minnick there that was a 2-page spread in Thrasher, but everyone remembers the Matt Hensley photo. These were moved to a nearby park, but apparently the neighbors get violent if you skate?

Only took the 550 out 3 times, as weather was shitty. The bike and the Mountain (Mt. Rainier). My phone was acting up...

Always go back and scope some pools. This one is done for good, apparently.

Mo and Max at the All City Showdown premier. Gnarliest backside boneless ever: Nolan Johnson, Garfield High.

We did finally get that session in at Delridge, on Sunday the 30th. Morris went to town cleaning and drying, and we all got to skate for a few hours. Morris is like the unofficial caretaker of the place, I suppose. Thanks Mo! Kevin racks up a burly FSG.

NYE was fun and kinda chill, but Russ couldn't help but point out that other folks were partying!