Skateboarding Is... September

This hiatus of mine has been a long, painful one, filled with many ideas and little time to think them through, much less cement them into a post. Many a time, ideas have begun to manifest, only to putter to an abrupt halt, cast into the purgatory that is my "drafts" folder: while discussing this with Brad yesterday evening, he claimed the above to be a blue-faced statement, but I assure all of you that this is not the case. Some of you may recall that I ensured a particularly special post upon my prodigal return, but said post is suffering some logistical setbacks, so in the meantime I hope my offer of one of my regular features will satiate you all for the time being.

Skateboarding is... Versatility

Also Barrel-Jumping... kinda

In and of itself, skateboarding is something of a niche activity, even in light of being more or less accepted in modern society, and within the niche that is the activity we all adore, there are several other subcategories, so to speak. We, as skateboarders, have all come across them, and many of us have made a point subscribe ourselves to one or another: be it street, vert, mini, freestyle, downhill, slalom, or even longboarding, ours is an activity that seemingly thrives on the idea of specialization within a particular field.

Why, then, if this is the case, am I sitting here right now claiming the exact opposite? Well, because while, yes, on the one hand most skaters make a point of finding one specialized area and honing their skills within it, skateboarding by its very nature demands of its purveyors an inherent versatility.

From a more macro standpoint, it can be argued that skateboarding is greater than the sum of its parts. That is to say, one reason that skateboarding has flourished the way it has, especially lately, is because of the fact that, past the act of riding a skateboard, every other aspect of skateboarding is defined by the individual doing it. In many ways, a skateboard is the most versatile mode of transportation ever conceived; every microcosmic sect under the blanket term of "skateboarding" is a testament to the fact that skateboarding thrives on versatility through individuality.

From an individual standpoint, this is most essentially personified in one's ability to adapt to different terrain. Now, while I could take this opportunity to extol the virtues of being well-rounded in every discipline, or wax poetic about what Jake Phelps recently dubbed the "Round-wall Renaissance", I'll see fit to avoid doing so, because at the end of the day, not everyone wishes to play jack-of-all-trades. Yes, being able to skate handrails and pools equally well certainly epitomizes the idea of versatility, but in that same breath, no two handrails are alike, any more so than any two pools are alike. Every piece of skateable terrain, whether made for skateboarding or not, is inherently unique; such is the beauty of human fallibility. Every crack, every kink, every millimetre difference in measurement provides a unique challenge. Even the act of skating down a different stretch of sidewalk than one's normal path can prove a new adventure, a new exercise for the mind and body. It is the ability to adapt to these variables, to conquer the new and unknown, that not only separates the good skaters from the great ones, but has also been the defining point of skateboarding for its entire existence.

In the end, the whole thing seems like an elementary exercise in basic logic: If a skateboard is a versatile object, and skateboarders are versatile people, then by all accounts...

Skateboarding is... Versatility.

Skateboarding Is.... July

Apologies for the late post: life is like a hurricane here in Duckberg, you know how it gets sometimes...

 

Yes, blatant excuse to use this clip, can you blame me?

Ten points for anyone who can name the correlation between my opening sentence and the above video clip. Now then, on to the rest of the post.

Skateboarding Is.... Dropping In.

Riding down a transition. Really, Brandon? This is your big monthly revelation? Stop the presses and get Phelper on the phone, because somebody ought to pay this guy some good money for so poignant an observation!

Now, before you say anything, or maybe try to have me institutionalized on account of how much I talk to myself in this blog, hear me out.

Yes, I'm writing an entire post on the act of riding down a transition, because it is a maneuver that implicitly carries with it so much. As much as I disagree with the subversively militaristic nature of the Boy Scouts, I feel inclined to liken dropping in to that merit badge that every real scout eventually gets; not one of those easy ones like the one you get for keeping your brother's old hand-me-down comic collection, but one that requires a deep enough skill set that, by receiving it, you can verify and legitimize your connection to an elite group. It's a rite of passage, so to speak.

*Gulp* Wasn't this thing only four feet tall?

Perhaps part of what makes the drop-in so special is the process of learning it. Everyone remembers what it was like learning how to drop in: you know how to push around, maybe you've got tic-tacs on lock. Bank ramps are a joke to you now, you just roll right down them like nothing matters. You figure "a quarterpipe? how hard can it be?", and then you actually stand in position.

If there is one thing I have learned, or maybe re-learned, from years upon years of teaching kids how to drop in, it's that the inevitable battle that accompanies it is over fifty percent mental. Fear is, more often than not, one's own greatest adversary in skateboarding, and dropping in is the first real confirmation of that fact for most skaters. Learning how to drop in sort of contrasts with how most of us are instinctively wired to deal with fear: most anything in life that requires us to conquer our fears can usually be tiptoed into, so to speak. That is to say, there is often an acceptable middle ground with most things. When one is discussing the drop-in, however, this middle ground will get you hurt. The result? Endless numbers of skaters learning to drop in who, by virtue of their innate sense of hesitation, end up suffering the inevitable slam. Indeed, almost more so than anything else, a proper drop-in requires complete commitment and a mastery over one's fear. Those who have dropped in on anything can attest to the fact that rolling away successful for the first time is euphoric, easily on par with landing your first kickflip, except for the fact that one cannot really drop in on a ten square foot patch of their parents' basement.

I wonder if Tony reacted the same way to his first drop-in...

The most interesting thing, I have noticed, about dropping in, is that no matter how comfortable one gets at it, as soon as one is faced with doing so on a larger ramp, it is as if that feeling of comfort and fearlessness is magically erased. Speaking from experience, I can attest to the fact that there is very little difference between dropping in on a six foot mini ramp and a twelve foot vert ramp, and yet the amount of coaxing required to get me to drop in on vert the first time was astounding. Interesting, too, is the fact that the euphoric rush that accompanied my first successful drop in was present as well. All that was missing from the equation was the uncomfortable week of repeated slamming, replete with my stray board taking out a couple of spindles of the railing at the other end of the ramp...

In summation, dropping in is, at its core, just riding down a transition. Further analysis, however, shows a plethora of things. Dropping in is a personal landmark, a rite of passage, a conquest of one's own fear and an advancement of one's own abilities. Dropping in is skateboarding, and conversely....

Skateboarding Is..... Dropping In.

Skateboarding Is... June

First off, a quick word about this segment:

Back a few years ago, when I wrote the now-defunct Frontside Blog, I got to a point where I started doing a monthly feature, just a post about one thing in particular that I always thought really was an integral part of skateboarding, and of the culture of being a skateboarder. This post will serve as a resurrection of that old feature, and while I hope to, one day, revisit all my former topics, today I'm going to kick off the feature's relaunch with some brand new material - hope you all enjoy it.

Skateboarding is... Home-made ramps

Yup, this is The Dream right here.

They say that necessity is the mother of invention, and as anyone who has ever stepped on a skateboard can tell you, progression, and the honing of one's craft is as much a necessity as making sure you put on pants in the morning - even one day without doing so simply does not feel right. Skateboarders are creative by their very nature, and for those of us without a wealth of things to skate at our immediate disposal, the need to create does anything but subside, and that necessity, of course, leads to invention.


You would be hard-pressed to talk to a skater who has not, at one point, built some kind of object with the intention of skating it; from propping a spare piece of plywood up on a handful of bricks, to spending every other day for three straight weeks constructing a mini ramp with the perfect transition, I know I, personally, have done the former, the latter, and everything in-between.

The building process is, quite obviously, one of the key points of what makes a home-made obstacle home-made. Sadly, though, with a combination of a decrease in free time and an increased want for instant gratification, hordes of junky plastic contraptions litter the market billed often as "extreme sports ramps".

 

This is the equivalent of getting your kid a Fischer-Price Picnic Table to skate...

Call me old-fashioned, but I, for one, extoll the virtues of building something to skate as opposed to buying it, for a number of reasons.
1) If we are talking about a younger skater, say, under 16 or so, adult supervision should, in all good reason, be required, and for that matter, encouraged. A parent helping their child build something to skate will teach the child the value of working for something, as well as how to properly use power tools, which is always an asset. It will allow for some excellent parent-child bonding time, as even the simplest manual pad should, if well built, require at least an hour or two building time. Finally, and most importantly, it acts as a way of showing your child that you are genuinely interested in his or her activity of choice, and that you are willing to support their doing so.
2) If we are talking about older skaters, then for one thing, any attempt to use a cheap plastic launch ramp will likely result in little plastic shards within an hour, and $30 down the drain.
3) Customization: The ability to build something from scratch means that you can build it exactly the way you want it. A box can be a high and wide as you like, transitions can be cut as mellow or as steep as you want, you can tailor the obstacle to exactly your skill level and riding style. Be forewarned, though, that especially when talking about cutting transitions, make sure you know what you're doing beforehand. Thirteen foot transitions on a three foot quartepipe and you wind up with a flat bank with some coping, and four foot trannies on as big a mini and you have side-by-side Jersey Barriers (which is great if that's your thing). Cutting transitions is a delicate science, and one miscalculation can dash weeks of work on your first kickturn.


Here's how to do it right.

The best part is that customization of your home-made ramp doesn't always end at the building phase. Once all is said and done, this ramp is yours, so make it feel like yours: slap those spare stickers you have along the sides of it, use the top of it to practice your art skills, be it with a spray can or paint can, just do whatever you want to make it feel like home.


See an example at 1:09.

Everything associated with the home-made ramp comes back to creativity, and that is why it is so integral to the experience of being a skateboarder. I implore any of you who have never gotten your hands dirty with sawdust and a power drill, and even those of you who haven't done so in a while, go grab some wood, grab a buddy, grab a stereo, and grab hold of that creative spirit you embrace every time you step on your board, because among so many other things, skateboarding is... home-made ramps.