Following the Hell of Hunterdon, I headed out to one of the local skateparks for a little recovery carve. Glasgow skatepark is an amazing place, but not my normal go to park. Glasgow has two concrete circles, which basically allow me to figure out some curb style tricks. Heck I did some no complies which fall into the category of super-fun-tricks-I figured-I'd-never-learn again.
Not smooth.. But they feel so fun... I was stoked.
After my hour or so was up, I was ready to wrap up the session with one last big carve around the entire park. I ran and jumped on my board and will a full head of steam headed into the park. As I flew towards the stair/bank ramp feature, I had a horrible thought-
I can't remember where the ramp is and where the stairs are. I am going full speed towards them. I'm going to die.
Just as I made the top edge, I did the reasonable thing, I bailed at full speed.
I leaped into the air, let out a horrifying scream, and just started flailing in the air.
Thankfully, although not gracefully, I landed on my feet and was able to run it out with out dying.
I pat myself down, making sure I'm totally intact, that I'm not hurt,and in fact I'm fine. "did that just happen?" I ask myself.
Diane, who was along for the trip calmly asks me, "what was the first rule of you skateboarding again?"
I respond, "don't get hurt."
Diane more tersely continues, "what the hell was that?"
"I forgot where the stairs were." I responded sheepishly.
I know cats have nine lives. If I was a cat, I might have just spent a couple of them.
I collected my skateboard, and walked out of the park putting my arm around my lovely wife, "so, you want to get a cup of coffee?"
thanks for reading.
respect
fatmarcVDB
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