So last August I made a little trip up the coast to the Ampt acclaimed park of wonders: Brookings, OR. I'm not what one would call a destroyer of all things tranny like most of heads I drove up with, so, if you've ever been to Brookings, you can understand my initial disappointment with the park. After a couple pumps and a luke warm PBR, I was feeling it. It wasn't necessarily the park itself that I was feeling as much as it was the locals holding it down for their hometown park.
Being born and bred in sunny, affluent, suburban, Southern California, my perceptions of the skateboarding scene are, in a modest sense of the word, skewed. When I saw the kids who frequented Brookings I was immediately hyped. These boys and girls were not your run of the mill "skaters".
Homedude's name was Travis. Travdog was all about chewin' and skatin'. Oh, Trav was also down with Megadeth on his cellphone/ mp3 player. It may seem as though I am mocking this young redneck ripper, but, in all honesty, I'm backing his whole program. This kid's not some tit fed, VX wielding, fresh setup toting, Sheckler lookalike. No, Trav was true. Nothing to hide here. Just pure skateboarding. Yeah, he's down with chewin' dip and doing slappy noseslides, but he's not hiding it. He can also do front slash grinds in the deep end of the dong bowl like a man. Mommy or daddy didn't drive Travis to the park in their European luxury cars. He rode his little brother's BMX bike. He doesn't go home to edit footy for his next sponsor-me part. Dude's chilling with a two liter of Hawaiian Punch waiting for the day to come when he can perfect over-coping airs in harmony with Dave Mustaine's six-string shredding. Stay true young Trav, stay true.
