Moto4Fun
07-22-2008, 06:26 PM
Due to the recent rise in gas prices, and my constant desire to maintain my youthful character; I have been visiting the local skate parks with increasing frequency. At times I feel a little odd as the only person skating who actually drove to the skate park. my form has been getting better, but I am still very stiff legged compared to the rubber bouncy balls that they call "kids" these days.
Being introduced to skateboarding in the era when all of the good parks in California were being jack hammered for liability and insurance costs; I spent most of on-board time doing slappy grinds on painted curbs and rail slides on stacks of 2 x 4s with pvc pipe screwed to the tops.
Going to college in a town with hills galore, big soft wheels on downhill runs became the norm. Carving driveways and hitting warp speed while managing speed wobbles was the name of the game. Fortunately I never sustained any of the nightmarish screws and pins injuries that are too common in the sport.
I have had my fair share of "offs" along the way. usually resulting in road rash filled with gravel, crashing was always part of the game, but most often had superficial results.
When the laws in California (and I am guessing the rest of the US) changed to reduce the liability associated with dangerous sports, concrete skate parks became the rage once again. They were popping up everywhere. a past dream come true! When I moved back to Fresno, at the "just-getting-to-my-prime" age of 28, I was excited to taste the complex transitions that these new parks provide.
While at a friend's wedding in Cayucos back in June, I spent some time watching the kids skate the small park near the pier. I felt like the little kid that wanted to go play with the big boys; just watching through the fence, yearning to be grinding the coping. "David, your order to go is ready..."
On my 32nd birthday (just 12 days ago, and 8 years since putting some regular time on a skateboard) I decided I needed to treat my self to a new complete board. Now that I am "grown up" and financially independent, a new skateboard is merely a fraction of the cost of any piece of gear for the numerous other sports I participate in; so I was stoked to go to the board shop and pick out all of the parts that I wanted with no restrictions. With a fresh board and my helmet in hand, I have made my way from one park to another here in Fresno. Getting re-acquainted with transition is a slow process. If you try to push the pace on that process, the transitions can catch you off guard. My ass can tell you first hand what it is like to be thirty-two and slapping concrete. But for the most part, I know my limits. I set little goals, work one section at a time, look for "the line", and just try to be smooth.
I found a little Ramp park near my house with a nice 5' - 6' half pipe and a bunch of BMX kids tearing up the bank ramps and quarter pipes. I really like half pipes, especially if they are a little bigger than the standard 4' mimiramp. Since the parks close at 10 pm, I figure the 9 - 10 o'clock hour is best for a lighter more mature crowd. With my wife, a bag of chinese take-out, and my gear in hand; we head off to the park to enjoy one of the cooler nights of the blistering summer month. Because we ordered hot-sour soup we chose not to ride the Verpa 2-up, but rather to take the car instead. This along with having my wife along for good company, would prove to be a fatefully good choice.
after enjoying my pork chow mein and fried rice, and the "angelic" soup, I donned my pads and headed to the top of the ramp. There was a mellow crew of 7-8 guys sessioning the half pipe, with varying ages and abilities. An older guy (probably in his mid twenties) and I shared a chuckle about getting old, re-entering the sport, and being "old guys". I must have looked real old with the old school red Rector knee pads, Pro-Tec helmet, and brand new shoes and deck! What a kook! Not a single kid at the park had a helmet let alone any pads. But the guys were accepting of me, offering me tips from time to time, even stoked on the smoothness of my kick turns and axle grinds. I was building confidence.
As the crowd thinned and Jennifer looked bored sitting on the grass adjacent to the skating area, closing time was nearing. I felt really good. I had accomplished all that I had hoped for the evening. One last run to put some smooth turns together, and call it a night. I could here the guys on the deck offering tips as I made my turn: look through the turn, bend you knees more, there you go! I even got a couple cheers of encouragement as I did some smooth axle pivots front side and backside, nice. Then it happened. I am not sure if it was a little voice in my head, or if they were talking about their next run, but I am sure I heard one of the guys say as I was turning on their side of the ramp: "...he's gonna bust out a axle stall.." To clarify: this when you approach the lip of the ramp and pivot on the trucks and stop on the coping, then drop back in. It is one of the first and most basic moves that you learn on a ramp, and I had mastered it at the Morro Bay Skate park 8 years ago while my roommate worked there. I had the speed, I had been getting plenty of height on the ramp; why not give the kids what they want. They could go home stoked that they had coached that old dude in the pads to a new best.
But something awkward occurred as I tried to perch on the rail. Nothing disastrous, but awkward, and I came off the lip. in a no-so-smooth fashion, my board tumbled down the ramp, followed by my feet, then my legs and hips, and ultimately my upper body. Gymnasts are trained to fall on their backs with their arms out stretched above their heads to avoid breaking their wrists; a 32 year old skater's self preservation instinct over rides that knowledge and in this case leads to terrible results. The slam wasn't sooo bad, and was only moderately loud, but I knew I had munched on my right arm pretty good. When I sat up and took a look at the results, I saw something I had never seen on my own body: a set of bones beneath the skin in a very abnormal shape. it was instantly verified. no medical degree needed for this one. My right arm was broken.
With sympathy from the crowd and offers to call 911, all I could say was: can you get my wife over here. I bet they don't hear that one very often! They helped me out of the ramp area, and Jen helped get all the stuff together, and off we went to the hospital. This was a pleasant (as much as it could be anyway) experience for a number of reasons. The shock value from the shape of my arm got me up the triage list. Even the cop on duty wanted pictures! Once in the back I found that I knew the ER doc that would be tending to me from my days on Ski Patrol. Jen was friends from way back with one the nurses, and in a late twist of events they brought in another RN (for liability reasons) for the resetting of the Radius, and it was my JV water polo coach! What a team I had!
After it is all said and done, I am in pain. I am sad for my temporary losses: no moto riding, no skating, no golfing, no swimming, no yard work, no tree pruning, no hammering, no.....There may be an upside to this!
I am not sure if I wrote this because I was inspired to tell my story, in search of some sympathy, or just in need of practicing my one handed, switch finger flip typing technique. It was probably a little of each, but there you have it. I highly recommend that everyone regardless of age, size, or activity level take some time to exercise, stay coordinated, learn how to fall. As we get older, just the slightest of crashes can have devastating consequences. Our ability to heal from these wounds and to endure the pain gets worse as well. Take it from me. I am 32 years old learning how to skateboard again. I sure as hell better re-learn how to fall!
Being introduced to skateboarding in the era when all of the good parks in California were being jack hammered for liability and insurance costs; I spent most of on-board time doing slappy grinds on painted curbs and rail slides on stacks of 2 x 4s with pvc pipe screwed to the tops.
Going to college in a town with hills galore, big soft wheels on downhill runs became the norm. Carving driveways and hitting warp speed while managing speed wobbles was the name of the game. Fortunately I never sustained any of the nightmarish screws and pins injuries that are too common in the sport.
I have had my fair share of "offs" along the way. usually resulting in road rash filled with gravel, crashing was always part of the game, but most often had superficial results.
When the laws in California (and I am guessing the rest of the US) changed to reduce the liability associated with dangerous sports, concrete skate parks became the rage once again. They were popping up everywhere. a past dream come true! When I moved back to Fresno, at the "just-getting-to-my-prime" age of 28, I was excited to taste the complex transitions that these new parks provide.
While at a friend's wedding in Cayucos back in June, I spent some time watching the kids skate the small park near the pier. I felt like the little kid that wanted to go play with the big boys; just watching through the fence, yearning to be grinding the coping. "David, your order to go is ready..."
On my 32nd birthday (just 12 days ago, and 8 years since putting some regular time on a skateboard) I decided I needed to treat my self to a new complete board. Now that I am "grown up" and financially independent, a new skateboard is merely a fraction of the cost of any piece of gear for the numerous other sports I participate in; so I was stoked to go to the board shop and pick out all of the parts that I wanted with no restrictions. With a fresh board and my helmet in hand, I have made my way from one park to another here in Fresno. Getting re-acquainted with transition is a slow process. If you try to push the pace on that process, the transitions can catch you off guard. My ass can tell you first hand what it is like to be thirty-two and slapping concrete. But for the most part, I know my limits. I set little goals, work one section at a time, look for "the line", and just try to be smooth.
I found a little Ramp park near my house with a nice 5' - 6' half pipe and a bunch of BMX kids tearing up the bank ramps and quarter pipes. I really like half pipes, especially if they are a little bigger than the standard 4' mimiramp. Since the parks close at 10 pm, I figure the 9 - 10 o'clock hour is best for a lighter more mature crowd. With my wife, a bag of chinese take-out, and my gear in hand; we head off to the park to enjoy one of the cooler nights of the blistering summer month. Because we ordered hot-sour soup we chose not to ride the Verpa 2-up, but rather to take the car instead. This along with having my wife along for good company, would prove to be a fatefully good choice.
after enjoying my pork chow mein and fried rice, and the "angelic" soup, I donned my pads and headed to the top of the ramp. There was a mellow crew of 7-8 guys sessioning the half pipe, with varying ages and abilities. An older guy (probably in his mid twenties) and I shared a chuckle about getting old, re-entering the sport, and being "old guys". I must have looked real old with the old school red Rector knee pads, Pro-Tec helmet, and brand new shoes and deck! What a kook! Not a single kid at the park had a helmet let alone any pads. But the guys were accepting of me, offering me tips from time to time, even stoked on the smoothness of my kick turns and axle grinds. I was building confidence.
As the crowd thinned and Jennifer looked bored sitting on the grass adjacent to the skating area, closing time was nearing. I felt really good. I had accomplished all that I had hoped for the evening. One last run to put some smooth turns together, and call it a night. I could here the guys on the deck offering tips as I made my turn: look through the turn, bend you knees more, there you go! I even got a couple cheers of encouragement as I did some smooth axle pivots front side and backside, nice. Then it happened. I am not sure if it was a little voice in my head, or if they were talking about their next run, but I am sure I heard one of the guys say as I was turning on their side of the ramp: "...he's gonna bust out a axle stall.." To clarify: this when you approach the lip of the ramp and pivot on the trucks and stop on the coping, then drop back in. It is one of the first and most basic moves that you learn on a ramp, and I had mastered it at the Morro Bay Skate park 8 years ago while my roommate worked there. I had the speed, I had been getting plenty of height on the ramp; why not give the kids what they want. They could go home stoked that they had coached that old dude in the pads to a new best.
But something awkward occurred as I tried to perch on the rail. Nothing disastrous, but awkward, and I came off the lip. in a no-so-smooth fashion, my board tumbled down the ramp, followed by my feet, then my legs and hips, and ultimately my upper body. Gymnasts are trained to fall on their backs with their arms out stretched above their heads to avoid breaking their wrists; a 32 year old skater's self preservation instinct over rides that knowledge and in this case leads to terrible results. The slam wasn't sooo bad, and was only moderately loud, but I knew I had munched on my right arm pretty good. When I sat up and took a look at the results, I saw something I had never seen on my own body: a set of bones beneath the skin in a very abnormal shape. it was instantly verified. no medical degree needed for this one. My right arm was broken.
With sympathy from the crowd and offers to call 911, all I could say was: can you get my wife over here. I bet they don't hear that one very often! They helped me out of the ramp area, and Jen helped get all the stuff together, and off we went to the hospital. This was a pleasant (as much as it could be anyway) experience for a number of reasons. The shock value from the shape of my arm got me up the triage list. Even the cop on duty wanted pictures! Once in the back I found that I knew the ER doc that would be tending to me from my days on Ski Patrol. Jen was friends from way back with one the nurses, and in a late twist of events they brought in another RN (for liability reasons) for the resetting of the Radius, and it was my JV water polo coach! What a team I had!
After it is all said and done, I am in pain. I am sad for my temporary losses: no moto riding, no skating, no golfing, no swimming, no yard work, no tree pruning, no hammering, no.....There may be an upside to this!
I am not sure if I wrote this because I was inspired to tell my story, in search of some sympathy, or just in need of practicing my one handed, switch finger flip typing technique. It was probably a little of each, but there you have it. I highly recommend that everyone regardless of age, size, or activity level take some time to exercise, stay coordinated, learn how to fall. As we get older, just the slightest of crashes can have devastating consequences. Our ability to heal from these wounds and to endure the pain gets worse as well. Take it from me. I am 32 years old learning how to skateboard again. I sure as hell better re-learn how to fall!