Evidence CXIV: Your Own Backyard

Weird shape (cock 'n' balls?), tight and shallow, killer mermaid tile in the shallow end, nice shallow pocket, killer bullnose, nice blue tile... wait, I've ridden this thing before. Oh yeah, it's my pool! Just a little drain and clean and refill, no skating going on here folks. Swimming, though, in a couple months...

Another bike out the door

Went for a ride Sunday. Front to back: Maaike's CB350, Vargas' CB175, Maaike's CB200, Laura's CB400F, my Cb350F, Meg's SR250. Maaike's 350 giving all kinds of carb grief, but there is a happy ending in one case... 

Worked on Trent's CB550 and Laura's CB400F las year. Trent's was in and out pretty quickly: carb clean, oil change, points, plugs, timing, carb sync. I think that's all I did? Laura's was giving me grief. The tuneup was easy, but there were a few electrical bugs as well, and her side cover was messed up. I had one sitting around with a small break in it, so I fixed it and it work. Rebuilt the master cylinder as well. But her horn and starter didn't work. I go at it here and there over the past couple months, and gave up once or twice and recommended taling it to a shop. Glad I stuck with it though. She needed new wiring to the starter from the solenoid, needed a new solenoid, needed a new ignition switch -- all three of those things were why the starter wouldn't work, and I thought I had one figured out and still nothing. Finally got it sorted. I tested the horn after pulling it off, and it worked. So I assumed it was wiring. I took apart the horn button and cleaned it twice. I reconnected all of the wiring and made sure the leads were clean. It seemed like everything was in order. Then -- nothing. I went though everything one more time and then tested the horn -- dead as a doornail. Got a new horn from a CB350F at Bob's, mounted it with a little finangle, and lo and behold, horn is back. It was already to go, but then the front brake was sticking. What? I rebuilt the master cylinder. Hoping it wasn't the caliper, I hit it with a mallet and it broke free. It seemed like the other end -- not the caliper end, was sticking. How the hell? No spring in the spring? Still shouldn't stick. Took the front wheel and brake apart today at 5 with a delivery time of 6. Lo and behold, the thing that is supposed to move freely between the caliper and the pad on the other side was completely seized, likely due to a little rust from sitting outside. Went at it with PB Blaster and a hammer, freed it up, polished it down, used some axle grease, and it was swinging free now. Got it all together and changed the oil, and I was there at 6:05.

 

Much has been said and written about the CB400F. It is truly a fun and remarkable bike. First stock 4-1 exhaust, and the way it wraps around the oil filter is pure beauty. They're responsive and quick and light and nimble, and that 6th gear is killer on the freeway. Laura's bike is 100% stock, and pretty damn awesome that way. Some new paint and a little elbow grease and polish and that thing will turn even more heads than it does now.

Evidence CXIII: The Evidence is in the Shadows

West Side guys had a new one to check, been going off and on over the years, and they had pumped it. Nothing but a few buckets to go. We did the work, and because it was in the shadows, it took a while to dry. It did, though, and we got some runs in. After a solid 20 minutes or so, dude pops his head over the fence, yelling to high heaven. Time to skedaddle. Brad and I make it out first and see the guy coming down the side of the house. Random property manager, not the fuzz. Some words were exchanged, and the others got out with ease -- once he realized we weren't fucking up the house I think he was cool with it. No cops, no names, we'll be back. All I wanted to do was skate, so I blew it and didn't take any skate photos. I suck at life.

Went to Court's, picked up the pump, and drained this arrow-shaped square-ish thing. Lots of shitty much, but we got it empty. It's got some potential. Asked the neighbors for a couple of clean buckets to wash it down and they obliged. 

Sometimes birds shit on the Master Pools logo -- very little one can do about this. 

Joe Dirt gets the next to the last of the mucky muck. Truck needs some new tires.

 

Evidence CXII: The Evidence is Replaced

Rendezvous point: the round brown mound. Yes, it's still there. Yes, it's tight and shitty. Yes, the coping is chunky as hell these days. But yes, it is a pool to ride. 

 

Back to the killer bowl after a quick diversion at the round mound of brown... Courtman gets a FSG and comes in on the edge of the box. 

Underview (Lunderview?) of C-Regs grinding over box and light -- another case of light after death. 

As predicted, the evidence did not stick around due to some kind of algae or some shit... 

But evidence is easily replaced.

Weekend Tuneage?

 

 

Gonna shred the rad this weekend, no denyin'. Might as well post this latest ear worm: Larry Williams and Johnny Watson's "A Quitter Never Wins." Kinda of corny lyrically, but I think you'll agree it's catchy as all get out -- killer horns, killer falsetto on the chorus "oh yeahs," driving beat, killer hooks.

This song is a killer, came out in 1967, and represents a brief period when Johnny "Guitar" Watson shifted from playing slower blues-oriented stuff to uptempo soul and before he quickly turned to funk and disco-inflected funk a couple years later. Larry Williams also hit his soul stride at this period, shifting away from his traditional R&B stuff ("Bonie Moronie," "Short Fat Fannie," "Slow Down") and just before his life spiraled downward into heroin and cocaine addiction (with his buddy Little Richard, who turned to god and escaped death, but only after Williams once almost shot him over a drug debt!).

Playing out three times next week, and I'll play this one at all three. Last time I played this tune it got some folks moving and I had more than one question about who it was. My buddy Rick described it as that "oh, yeah!" song. Oh yeah!

Evidence CXI: A Bowl and Rock 'n' Roll

Top dude Rhino texted me a week or two ago: his buddy Josh's band The Shrine was on tour with Graveyard, and Josh as itching to skate something in AZ. Could I hook him up? Does a bear shit in the pope? Josh got in touch, and I told him to get a hold of me when he makes it into town. He called yesterday, and I went to pick him up. Being on tour with Graveyard has its advantages: they've got a player tour bus that fits both bands, and everybody's got their own bed. Damn.

I was going to take him to a permission pool, but I never heard back from the dude. So Powerline, the old standby, it was. B-Rad had just cleaned and drained it, so after a quick sweep with a palm frond we were good to go. Josh had a small window, which was fine as two-man sessions can get you winded. He was stoked on the contours, and I told him about the light-after-death line in the middle pocket. He was cruising, craving and grinding, but I didn't know if he would go for it. The answer was yes. After two or three times, he was coming close. It's a gnarly grind, and he took some gnarly slams -- Jonny Tsunami later pointed out that he could have taken a hard slam, taken him self out, and been unable to play the show. I vaguely remember a James Hetfield story that was similar, and then some kind of contract stipulation. Regardless, after a couple hard slams, he fucking stuck it and rode away. I was psyched, I had no idea if he was gonna rip or what, but my question was answered. Sick shredding, bro! 

The evidence is blurry, apparently. 

Josh didn't have folks in mind for a guest list, so he told me fire away and send him a list. He got eight of us in the show. Fuckin' A, that's proper, thanks mang! His band The Shrine tore it up -- killer rock 'n' roll with some stoner rock thrown in. It's kind of hard to see in the photo, but you could see the dirt and dust on his right sleeve from multiple pool slams while he was playing.

Graveyard was sick too. Hung out a little with Axel, their drummer, who had some cool stories about travelling in Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia 12 years ago. Another killer rock 'n' roll band, killer skills by all the players (sometimes it seemed like the songs were solos on different intstruments all strung together).

Evidence CX: Back to the Gem and Some Scoping

Back to the gem with Hoss and Craig. We take no chances at this one; to paraphrase Alex, the protagonist in A Clockwork Orange: "We're just here for a quick in-n-out." As a result, I'm blagging, and not taking photos. The above is Hoss in the deep -- look closely, not grinding! It's the only photo I took at this session, just needed some evidence.

Did get a little video, however, including C-Regs over the steps.

We were out, and we had some time before sunset, so we did some scoping... 

Weird fiberglass... 

We skated this one on Go Skateboarding Day 2011 or 2010. 

Elephants trumpeted our arrival.

 

Evidence CIX: The Evidence Won't Stick

Court and Dickborg gave the green light for a new score (although rumor has it Joseph Dirt might have found it first? -- who cares). First stop, the mandatory meet up at the Foundry, our second to last as the place is going under. Will miss the tiki trees. 

 

And the Cowtown Ramp is now long gone. Rumor has it that it will be rebuilt with a slightly different layout in the near future. Fingers are crossed. 

Captain Dickborg would rather fight than switch. Well, actually, he's kinda being forced to switch living accomodations. 

We make our way to the new gem. A little clean up ensues, but it is an amazing bowl. The evidentiary sticker goes down, but a weird layer of dried up algae or something makes me think the evidence ain't gonna stick on this one. 

Hoss dials in the BSG. 

Craiggers got stairs in 2 or 3 tries. 

Bad back don't stop Dickborg from charging stairs too...

And FSG. The grind going that way was kind of crazy as the death box is so close to the light you almost have to do both of them or risk coming in and clipping a wheel on the death. We had our 20 minutes, then to play it safe we bolted. Don't want to overstay our welcome on our first visit; we wanna come back again... 

Then it was on to the burn victim. As usual, I spent most of my time skating and not taking photos, but I did get a fuzzy one of Court from the inside of the burned building, FSG. All in all, a good day of shredititude.

Evidence CVIII: Bell End

Saturday afternoon, good day for some shredding, Hoss, Craig and I head out while others dismantle and move the Cowtown Ramp, and prepare for the exodus from the Foundry. Walking down the alley to this Anthony gem, Hoss find some interesting reading material. 

Anthony needed a little clean up... Good thing we forgot a broom and there was broken glass everywhere.

And Craig gets it, BSG. 

And so does Hoss. This pool is pretty high profile, we were kicke dout by cops once, but since they didn't take anyone's names we figured we still have a few more chances. Still -- dogs barking, huge gaps in the chain link fence, high profile situation, so we booked after 15 minutes. Got our grinds though. 

This time the pool got some evidence... 

The view from the stairs... 

My Spidey Sense tingled on the way to the Anthony, but it was a bogus model pool, pebble tech, with a bunch of shit and water in it. Not a rip. 

After the Anthony, we were in scope mode. Some of these are lived in, some aren't as good as they appear, but just a little taste to let those out of town know that in Phoenix you can pick a spot, drive around, enhance your search with Gargle Earth, and come up with a bunch of pools in 10 minutes... 

 

 

Then we hit the Burn Victim again. Cops rolled by... again. This time we were spooked, so we bagged it and checked the pool next door. 

It's got some potential... 

View from the stiars -- hard to see, but it's a Blue Haven logo rip off from a company call "Pool Land." 

Back to the Foundry for one of the last bonfires -- a tradition after skating, and Court usually supplies the peanuts. The book met its fiery end, photo Hoss.