The Sludge at the Bottom of the Pool
Written by Cara Friday, 16 January 2009 19:48
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When I officially became an adult, I decided to take reckless abandon
to the next level and begin skateboarding. Days were on the road and
nights fast asleep on the local playground equipment, in the back seat
of my tiny Tercel or huddled in the 3 way spoon in the tent, waking up
to shotgun blasts in the Phoenix desert. "...waiting to bleed onto the big streets that bleed out to the highways and off to other cities, built to store and sell these plastic rocks and we're feeling real dirty sitting in the parking lot with nothing...," Modest Mouse, The Lonesome Crowded West.
Winters in Colorado always welcome the perfection of the Arizona air, dry and temperate, similar to a crisp fall or spring day in the Mile High City. Somethingbertos 24 hours on every corner and perfect skateparks, the ledges and decks crowded with teensies on cell phones. Many adventures took place, skating full-pipes with pros, cliff jumping, games of "anything you can throw with the van" and whatever else we came across in our journeys.
One particular trip comes to mind, I was wet as could be behind the ears in my skateboarding abilities, but fortunately had a Swellbow protege. We found ourselves in Tucson, exploring the dusty ranks of an abandoned motel pool. We expected to find some sort of sludge at the bottom of the pool, but nothing had prepared us for what we found.
Hightower. They were a montly crew, ripped and dirty as they should be, hair growing from all orifices. Perhaps I was to naive to understand the gravity of the situation, for I carelessly disregarded the crowd as I often do when I shift to skate mode. They were friendly enough, we were fellow skateboarders and fans at the very least and they took a few runs and took off. I skated the pool poorly and we left to uncover our next adventure.
