Gleaming the Tube
by Colin Choy
"These boys was gleaming the tube," said one officer to another as we
stood
in aggravated silence. A hundred bucks and six months probation was the
price of admission to gleam this tube. I shouldn't complain, first time
in
twenty years of skating I actually got cited for it.
As the citations were being written under a blazing Arizona sun in
July, I
smiled to myself reminiscing on the last two hours of being in the ring
with gravity.
Full pipes are a rare thing these days. Few are skateable and even
fewer
are large enough to risk getting busted for. It ain't like the days of
yore, going to Upland daily in the summer, skatin' that textured
beauty.
No, skateparks with pipes are not happening this time around. But
they're
out there, just as this one was, a C.A.P. (Central Arizona Project)
wonder
with a slight downward pitch located somewhere near Lake Pleasant.
The steel, almost black, absorbed nearly all of the light, creating an
eerie lack of shadows. A perfect skating surface, not too slick and not
too
rough, made for unreal thrusters going way beyond one's own threshold
of
sanity. The slight pitch made for some crazy lines, going downhill
meant
going higher each carving turn until I was way past vert. A cess slide
was
needed to straighten out and start heading uphill. Ass touching the
wall,
my board turned and started heading back down, my legs stretched out as
far
as they could to keep the wheels in contact with the pipe. My stomach
cried
and my heart made itself known as I fell towards the bottom. One
mistake
now and it's time to meet the flat. Going back uphill made my legs
scream
in burning disagreement while the rest of me enjoyed the endorphin
payback.
Bros Marty, Alton and Josh kept the session alive as we egged each
other on
to go higher. No type of terrain could be more pure and these gleamers
savored every moment they were given.
There hasn't been a pipe quite like this one here in AZ for many moons.
The
last one that comes to mind is the Price pipe in Mesa. Sixty feet
underground lies an eighteen foot pipe now completely filled with
street
runoff water. Brothers Alba and Brian Brannon made the thing look real
small. Another was the monster twenty-four footer in Phoenix. That one
also
felt the heavies tickle her roof. But somehow, that one still looked
big.
My next project is Horse Mesa Dam along the Salt River. A twenty footer
sits tucked in a rock wall near the base of the dam. Items needed to
complete the mission include a boat, a full moon, kitty litter, and a
prayer. Oh yeah, a ninja suit may come in handy.
As we packed up the truck and signed our tickets, I couldn't help but
feel
a little bittersweet. I knew that going back was not an option, it just
ain't worth doing time. But we did get to skate a full pipe, which in
itself makes it all worthwhile. "Gleaming the tube?" the other officer
responded. "What were you doin' down there, swimmin'?" I didn't bother
to
answer. The injustice was already served.
I wondered if these yo-yo cops had any idea what it's like to skate in
twenty-two foot diameter steel pipes. Not likely. In fact, most of the
general population probably hasn't a clue as to the pure adrenaline
rush a
full pipe has to offer. Of course, anything will give you adrenaline. A
basketball game in overtime on T.V. gives most people all the
adrenaline
they can handle. But 10:30 frontside looking over your shoulder and
beginning to freefall just can't be beat.
There will be another some day, but who knows when or where? And when
it
happens, rest assured that the old dogs will come out of hibernation
and
once again caress her wondrous curves. Maybe there's one going near
your
town. Don't be foolish and pass it up. Hit it up with passion. She
probably
won't last forever...