For Auld Lang Syne...
By Kilwag
Posted: 5-9-06

Well, we never got around to holding the King of Oregon’s Krappiest Skatepark contest. In spite of all it’s flaws, we’ve had a lot of fun at St John’s skate park. Maybe even because of them. The surface was rough, the transitions were  bulging, the coping was inset, and the park drained into a dead end. Because it was so craptacular there was nothing to lose. We’ve had a handful of amusing dork sessions and interacted with the park locals who range from little kids on bikes with training wheels to sullen adolescents working on their social stature through kickflips and  mutated fashions. This park was ghetto to be sure. It was also like watching a Three Stooges movie – mostly boring but sometimes a lot of stupid fun for 20 minutes or so. Plus, just as the Three Stooges are on TV at all time somewhere in the world,  you knew St Johns was sitting there waiting for you if you cared to change the channel...

I took some demo pictures on Friday. On Saturday we were winding down after a good day’s worth of skating when a few of us decided to see if they had done any further work. The little bowl and the flat where everyone works on their flip tricks was still standing, and there was a handful of kids listlessly working the remains. We took a few turns in the bowl, which was more of a spoon actually, and started eyeing the last remaining transition. A kid on a BMX bike started to help us clear away debris and we had a go at it.

The first drop in off the partially destroyed bank seemed a lot scarier than it actually was. There was rebar sticking out and barely any room to put the tip of your tail down on a flat-ish spot between it. I had visions of dropping in and having the board or my foot getting wedged in the rebar – ouch! Embarrassingly, it turned out to be a non-event, especially since Mark already did it.   Soon we started expanding our limits of what we thought was possible at the tiny remains of the park. When the camera came out we stared goofing off harder. I joked to Mark that he should do an invert and he said “OK” just to be difficult, and soon he started landing hand plants. Inspired by Mark, I had some fun with boneless ones.  I hadn’t really tried a boneless in 10 years, at least not to the point of actually trying to land on the board. Now I couldn’t remember why I stopped.

In the end, our skate snack at St johns turned into a Last Supper. It was probably the most fun we’d ever had at that place, which was ironic because it was at it’s most unskateable condition. I wasn’t even bummed that I flat spotted my wheels. It took the demise of the park to make us see it in a new way. For that reason I suggest tearing down all skateparks half way and then holding contests there. Ha ha. Seriously, I was beginning to feel guilty about not taking advantage of it more often until I remembered how much it sucked and thought about what was replacing it. It will be an interesting dynamic when the new place gets built. BMX will be present. They never really overran the place before, but with world class facilities on the way, who knows who will come out of the wood work. Physically, the park is almost at the farthest outskirts of Portland residential areas, the last chance saloon before  an industrial wilderness. How will the krusty locals and half-assed gangstas mesh with the influx of skateboarders that will surely come? St Johns could become a hot spot of activity.

I can’t believe that I’m still blathering on about this. As we were leaving, we started putting up parts of the fence that were knocked over. It looked like someone had driven a car into it. We told the remaining kids to close the fence when they left.  On the way out, one of  Portland’s skating dignitaries was arriving in anticipation meeting another key dreamer. Our bodies gave up before our spirit did. We vowed to return with video cameras the next day, but it rained and by Monday evening there was nothing skateable left. Ah St Johns Skatepark, Alas, I knew him well…