Skateboarding Still Isn't A Crime

My cracked Santa Cruz skateboard still has life in it! The coned Slimeballs may need to be rotated, though, after tonight's session. Those old wheels were practically smoking as I carved big, beautiful, beefy lines down the hills in my hood.

It's been awhile since I felt the raw fear that the death wobbles deliver. My trucks and deck turned to Jello beneath my feet as the shadowy forest whooshed by. What a rush!

My foot was off the board as I contemplated bailing, but it would have been suicidal to try and slow my rocketing momentum at that point. All I could do was keep my creaky knees bent and flow down the concrete slope.

For a skater born in the mid-seventies, I was pretty pleased with my ollie, but my flip tricks need a little work. Maybe I'll have to settle for just surfing sidewalks in style. Nah, I don't think so.