Lost in America on Labor Day Weekend
Fuckin’ America, what a great place to get lost in! I'd only heard rumors about these dudes from Skate Lair being wild and not to fuck with, so I rented a car and drove to the Great North East to meet up with Erik Munday and the heads from his shop. I walked into the door of the shop and was greeted by Freddy Gall holding a gun in one hand and a beer in the other, telling me I needed to check out this sick indoor wooden bowl in back. We skated it and I almost landed on Freddy’s head after trying to ollie over him in a doubles run. Don't know how we got out of that one.
Then they whipped me to a snake run on an abandoned ski-hill in the middle of nowhere. What better way to spend Labor Day than ripping a sketchy spot in the woods? With Ricky Oyola, Jahmal Williams, Fred Gall, Dougy Death, and Erik, down for the mission, we set off to the backwoods of Connecticut. It was well after dark when we got to there, so we used the full moon to find the hidden spot deep in the pitch-black woods. All we had to light up the spot was road flares and fire— shit was amazing and surreal. After we left I was told that cops will arrest you on the spot and that they use place to train police K-9s.
The next morning we woke up to gunfire… and pancakes. We were taken to a house out in the woods to shoot guns, and skate an old beat up mini-vert ramp in a barn. A bunch of heads showed up with even more guns, booze, and chicks. We continued to celebrate by shooting bigger guns, and watching girls blow shit up, before heading to a massive wooden bowl tucked behind a random suburban home.
Fuck! After driving three-hours straight back to NYC in the middle of the night, jacked on the wild adventure I found Ricky’s car keys in my whip. I quickly pulled a U-turn and motored back to bring him his keys so he make it back to his family in Philly for Labor Day. I didn't manage to get back to the city, and my girl until 9 AM. Fuckin’ America, you got to love it.