Editor’s note: This was originally supposed to be my first installment of a regular column in Concrete Wave magazine. For whatever reason, it became apparent that it wasn’t going to be printed, so I decided to present it here, as it was written for Concrete Wave. You can download the mockup of the layout in PDF format. At the end of the article there are additional pictures related to the story.
I Was A Teenage Skateboarder Who Never Slalomed And Then Grew Up To Try It Later
Sounds like a horrible movie eh? In starting my first column for Concrete Wave I thought to myself “What complaint do I hear most often about this magazine, and what can I do to annoy more readers?” The answer of course, is more slalom coverage! Skaters for Public Skateparks often has raging conversations about the vocal minority of older bowl trolls that push tranny heavy parks at the expense of street skaters. So where does that leave Concrete Wave with it’s inordinately out of proportion slalom coverage? Well I figure, when in Rome, do as the Vandals. Here is the inaugural column for…
So I’m kind of dating this blonde girl, let’s call her Chrissy. She’s in town visiting her older brother who is kind of a dick. He runs with these mean slalom kids called the Letter Openers or something to that effect. Those guys burned down our slalom cones one night. We didn’t exactly see them but I think Monk did it. We came home from our Hill Locals club meeting and found smoldering heaps of plastic in our driveway, which is where we park our cabriolet.
Because Brazil is where they manufacture the best skaters in all disciplines that are uncool in North America – aka Vert and Slalom (and Freestyle for all I know) – I sent off to Moska for some wheels. Now what about a board? I called Chrissy over at Hook’s house but Audrey answers and she’s all “Donna’s missing!” After tailing Lara Flynn Boyle, I spot James’ sweet slalom setup parked outside the skateshop. So I duck into the Interweb to investigate slalom boards. Pocket Pistols sets me up with a Duane Peters deck that I assume is a recent release except the web site hasn’t been updated since 2005 so it’s pure hearsay.
From Hearsay to heresy, I proceed to set up a Duane Peters deck with Tracker Trucks because, well, they were the only ones I had a wholesale connection for. The copy says they would “make the average weekend warrior feel like a true world champion,” which was good cause I had to settle a score with Hook at the joust later that evening. With Brazilian urethane and Californian wood/fiberglass and aluminum in hand, I bought the fastest set of ABEC 5 bearings I could find since certain unnamed manufacturers refused to flow, somehow doubting the seriousness of my review. I figured ABEC 5 was good. I wanted to be extreme, but not to the max, you know?
So Christian Slater and I hop in the back of Tony Hawk’s pizza delivery truck and head to the “Outlaw” Slalom race that was definitely not held anywhere near Mt Tabor. I put it in quotes cause although we were sticking it to the man by not following his rules, we were still required to wear a helmet to race. The security guard that wasn’t in Portland Oregon didn’t seem to mind in any case. Contestants marveled at my strange wheels, brand new deck and lack of angled risers as if to say “What’s a jerk like you doing with a sweet slalom set up like that?” You see, slalom is a rich man’s sport, requiring an assortment of wheels and trucks and performance bearings that can cost a small fortune unless you ride for Smash Skates.
Little Stevie said “No, YOU be there!” so I had been shamed into entering the contest. I figured I’d just practice but as I managed to make it farther and farther down the course I realized I wouldn’t kook it up too bad. My friend Shawn was running the course on his longboard.. really slow. I figured I had a good chance of beating him. The contestants were made up of varying skill levels and attire. Some of the more serious ones seemed to bristle at Shawn’s implied longboarding irreverence, but the more he stuck with it the more they warmed up to him. There were full face helmets and motocross body armor as well as cutoff shorts and jeans. Sure, slalom has a somewhat geeky image to the rest of the skating world but it’s serious business. The guys that do it well have big cojones.
Little Stevie said “No, YOU be there!” so I had been shamed into entering the contest. I figured I’d just practice but as I managed to make it farther and farther down the course I realized I wouldn’t kook it up too bad. My friend Shawn was running the course on his longboard.. really slow. I figured I had a good chance of beating him. The contestants were made up of varying skill levels and attire. Some of the more serious ones seemed to bristle at Shawn’s implied longboarding irreverence, but the more he stuck with it the more they warmed up to him. There were full face helmets and motocross body armor as well as cutoff shorts and jeans. Sure, slalom has a somewhat geeky image to the rest of the skating world but it’s serious business. The guys that do it well have big cojones.
With Chrissy waiting at the bottom of the hill we began the race. There were guys flying off the course everywhere. Somehow the same guys were going off cliffs and still managing to keep in the running. In the end I didn’t come in last, Shawn did. I even managed to better my times. Of course Chrissy left with the guys from Black Leather Racing even though they weren’t even there. I guess T-shirt and Shorts Racing doesn’t have the same sex appeal. Speaking of sex appeal, Ladies, where were you? Slalom seems to be all about the hips, and the women sure got ‘em. In spite of the sausage festival, I had a lot of fun and will be back for more.
My name is Kilwag, and I enjoy slalom. It’s an AA meeting, get it? I‘m pretty sure Michael won’t print my alternate Heathers ending of “I love my slalom. I love my dead, gay slalom.”
Oh my gawd! You’re killing me with this slalom stuff. Oh yeah? Choke on this picture of McMinnville local Brian sessioning Lincoln City III’s pool. No pads, no helmet and a Thrasher tattoo to boot!
Be the first person to send in a picture of your Concrete Wave tattoo and I’ll send you a tear-stained note from your mother begging you to have it removed. You were always such a nice kid growing up.
…and so was Kilwag. Send him your hate mail or be further annoyed by him over at SkateAndAnnoy.com.
Epilogue:
So that was supposed to be the first column. I thought it was good, maybe a few too many refernces that readers would have to be in the right frame of mind (or age) to get, but interesting none the less. I mean, how many “These guys ruled this particular contest!” articles can you publish? I think the moment I lost faith in Concrete Wave was when they did an artist profile that featured bad air brushed skateboards that looked like they were T-shirts at a carnival. GangstaTweety Bird and Scooby Doo… one (half) step away from Foxy Lady! with glitter on a fringed half shirt.
This was an “outlaw” race, meaning we didn’t have permission from the city to hold an organized event. Security came by to check it out but let us be. I’ve never actually seen a security car on that closed road before. Also, it was called an “outlaw” race, but helmets were mandatory. I’m not going to debate the merits of wearing a helmet, but I would like to point out that mandatory helmets and the word “Outlaw” do not belong in the same sentence. The atmosphere was friendly and encouraging in general, but a few of the more aggro guys gave off a vibe that was more akin to a televised wrestling than a friendly pick-up slalom race. Of course, wearing motocross body armor may have contributed to that effect. Also not helping, my friend Shawn Fendick who decided to enter at the last minute on his longboard as a goof. Some folks did not find it funny. Not all of the serious competitors were so brusque. On the contrary, guys like Skip Marcotte were stoked to be there and have new faces.
The way these things work, a bunch of guys man the course to monitor missed and knocked over cones. The last guy yells the total up to the next guy a little higher up the course,who yells it up to the next guy, and so on. Then everyone moves up a spot and the guy who just took a run ends up being the last monitor. Also interesting is the fact that someone has to be designated to design the course, or everyone has to reach a consensus. This was loosely a giant slalom or hybrid event. Some guys can ride different style courses better than others, leaving the door open for arguing about the cone placements, which can become bitter. It also keeps it interesting as you can have totally different experiences on the same hill depending on the course that day.
What did I learn from the experience? For one thing, I learned that I mostly suck at photographing slalom. It’s hard to make it look interesting. I got a couple nice shots with some motion blur, but the rest are very boring or poorly exposed. I was playing around with shutter speeds and watching guys go in and out of the shadows while walking up the hill to prepare for my runs. Not good for concentration. Presented below are few extra photos from that day that weren’t in the original article. If you know the missing names then send them in. I took more pictures of that day, if you’re not here it’s because they came out even worse than the worst of these. Lastly, although I had a lot of fun, I haven’t managed to make it back for another slalom session in over a year.
Related Links:
Download this article as it would have originally appeared.
Review of the Pocket Pistols slalom deck.
Concrete Wave Magazine
Pocket Pistols
Moska Wheels
Tracker Trucks
Black Leather Racing
