There's a sudden rap on the rain fly of that two-person tent. The Park Ranger was as polite as possible, careful to not completely startle the slumber of the person inside. That person was me, and I slowly lurched into a sitting position, rubbing my eyes out of sleepy habit. Letting him know that I’d heard him, I made my way into clothing and out the zipper door of the tent.
I had arrived at the campground near closing time on the previous night, after the employees had retired for the night. So it was my time to pay up for my time camping there. Dennison Park was the campground of choice, and its views down into and across the Ojai Valley were probably worthy of a postcard home. The previous day, I had met with students of CSU Channel Islands, members of the skate club there, on behalf of Collegiate Skate Tour. The Ojai Skatepark is especially fun, well-designed, and full of good vibes. I strongly recommend it to anyone that enjoys skateboarding.
I had arrived at the campground near closing time on the previous night, after the employees had retired for the night. So it was my time to pay up for my time camping there. Dennison Park was the campground of choice, and its views down into and across the Ojai Valley were probably worthy of a postcard home. The previous day, I had met with students of CSU Channel Islands, members of the skate club there, on behalf of Collegiate Skate Tour. The Ojai Skatepark is especially fun, well-designed, and full of good vibes. I strongly recommend it to anyone that enjoys skateboarding.
The plan moving forward that Saturday was to head home to Eagle Rock, LA and then south to Compton. I’d planned on attending a skateboarding contest at the Compton Skatepark, being put on by Bridge to Skate, a nonprofit that provides mentoring opportunities to local youths of LA and donates skateboarding hardgoods to those in need in Nicaragua. I’d wanted to go home to grab a board and some Collegiate Skate Tour stickers to distribute as prizes or toss-outs. But on the road trip home, I started to experience a rumbling from the back axle of my car. It felt as though there were a lump on my wheels propelling a section of my car up and down, in an unsettling way. To make a long story short, there was a deformity in my back left tire, was lucky to have made it home safely, and had to put the spare tire on. By the time I had the new tire on, it was later in the day. With a long(ish) drive ahead of me, my skateboard in my hand, and my child-like tendencies starting to take control, I drove to the local skatepark for a quick fix session before the sun set.
At the hill top, Victor nor Ollie were there. Only myself and Skylar, the good homie with the good good and a real positive vibe. We zoned out on some beautiful sky and great conversation before I headed down to the house. A friend from North Carolina was visiting town for a conference in Pasadena and so I had plans to meet up with her for a drink. We met at a very typical tiki-themed bar for one beer before calling it a night. Both of us were really tired from our respective weekends thus far. It was great to catch up with Kirsten! Living a rad life in rad cities and around rad people. That said, I was ready for bed.
I woke up late. My friend, Matt, and I had made plans to head down south to Huntington Beach for a bowl jam birthday barbecue. It was noon when his phone call woke me up. I was glad for the sleep and stoked for the day ahead! I called a couple of friends, packed the car for the hour drive to Orange County, and started making tracks. With the doughnut of a spare on my back left wheel, I had to cruise it, granny-style, running 55 mph on the freeway the whole damn way. Was NOT stoked on that. But I eventually got there. I arrived to the backyard. The party started in a separate backyard from the ramp yard. Jake’s place. He had a shared backyard with a few other people, but he took over that yard, having built a full treehouse with electricity, insulated windows, the whole nine yards… I met a few dudes, mostly older, and a few girls, mostly younger. Everyone was slowly enjoying their first few beers before turning it up at the bowl down the street. There were three girls there, visiting from Vegas, and they all happened to be gorgeous and cool. That’s provided some extra good points to the party.
At the hill top, Victor nor Ollie were there. Only myself and Skylar, the good homie with the good good and a real positive vibe. We zoned out on some beautiful sky and great conversation before I headed down to the house. A friend from North Carolina was visiting town for a conference in Pasadena and so I had plans to meet up with her for a drink. We met at a very typical tiki-themed bar for one beer before calling it a night. Both of us were really tired from our respective weekends thus far. It was great to catch up with Kirsten! Living a rad life in rad cities and around rad people. That said, I was ready for bed.
I woke up late. My friend, Matt, and I had made plans to head down south to Huntington Beach for a bowl jam birthday barbecue. It was noon when his phone call woke me up. I was glad for the sleep and stoked for the day ahead! I called a couple of friends, packed the car for the hour drive to Orange County, and started making tracks. With the doughnut of a spare on my back left wheel, I had to cruise it, granny-style, running 55 mph on the freeway the whole damn way. Was NOT stoked on that. But I eventually got there. I arrived to the backyard. The party started in a separate backyard from the ramp yard. Jake’s place. He had a shared backyard with a few other people, but he took over that yard, having built a full treehouse with electricity, insulated windows, the whole nine yards… I met a few dudes, mostly older, and a few girls, mostly younger. Everyone was slowly enjoying their first few beers before turning it up at the bowl down the street. There were three girls there, visiting from Vegas, and they all happened to be gorgeous and cool. That’s provided some extra good points to the party.
When we arrived at the bowl, everyone slowly filtered through the gate and up the stairs to the deck of the bowl. The ramp was shaped like a rectangle, with great coping all around, at four feet tall, with one of the shorters sides taller, at a seven-foot-tall extension with elevators leading up on each edge. The bowl was concrete, and the beer was cold. The dudes were punk, and the chicks were hot. The session started to heat up, and everyone was skating well. There were only about four of us under the age of 30, so those of us were really pushing it. And the bowl was so perfect that you could really get away with going bigger and learning tricks in the heat of the session. I hadn’t had that much fun skating in weeks.
As many of us were too buzzed to skate and the ramp was starting to get moist from the damp ground below it, the fireside party began. There were less people at that point, but the majority of the crowd was hammered. The conversation flowed constantly, and with mostly good content. Only a smattering of incomprehensible or unrelated statements. Cool guys in a cool place, HB Locals that grew up surfing, skating, and playing punk music. The hilarity and good times ensued accordingly until I found myself watching the birthday boy getting a face tattoo at 48-years-old. In the garage next to the other drunk guys. It was epic. I hadn’t been drinking as much as the boys, because I knew I had to drive all the way to north LA, on a spare tire.
As many of us were too buzzed to skate and the ramp was starting to get moist from the damp ground below it, the fireside party began. There were less people at that point, but the majority of the crowd was hammered. The conversation flowed constantly, and with mostly good content. Only a smattering of incomprehensible or unrelated statements. Cool guys in a cool place, HB Locals that grew up surfing, skating, and playing punk music. The hilarity and good times ensued accordingly until I found myself watching the birthday boy getting a face tattoo at 48-years-old. In the garage next to the other drunk guys. It was epic. I hadn’t been drinking as much as the boys, because I knew I had to drive all the way to north LA, on a spare tire.
So it was my time to leave the garage full of motorcycles and weed smoke. It was time to hit the road to start a busy week. I was looking forward to flying to Florida two days later yet aware of the workload required to make it a success. I went home to start doing laundry and packing. And the rest will hit the blog soon enough.
Tales from Orlando, Gainesville, Jacksonville, and Tampa are just ahead.
- 7Ply Epic
Tales from Orlando, Gainesville, Jacksonville, and Tampa are just ahead.
- 7Ply Epic