HARDflip.com

It was a Saturday night when I found myself standing in the lobby of what used to be a 
movie theater in Ramona California. The ‘Rumble in Ramona’ just finished so
 we all went downtown for the after party. A few beers later I happened to 
look down and see that Peter Hewitt was slinking out from under a table 
pouring beer down Gregg Witt’s pant leg. Gregg had no idea – and that was the problem. The beer was just running down the outside of his pants and onto the floor. I decided to help out a bit by gently pulling Gregg’s pant leg up just enough for Peter to be able
 to pour the beer directly into the side of his shoe. Of course when 
Gregg finally felt this he turned around to see Peter sitting quietly at a 
table minding his own business and me right behind him laughing – so I took 
the brunt of the punishment for what later became known as ’saucy foot’. 
Peter crawled around on the floor for the next half hour or so playing saucy
foot with anyone within striking distance. He was as stealth as a ninja but
 twice as drunk. Al Partnanen finally caught him and proceeded to fill
 Peter’s shoe with beer. Then I saw a chair being thrown. Not exactly sure
 what happened next.

The whole weekend was a series of short stories. Since this is the internet age I’m sure you already know the gist
of the Rumble. This contest is put on by Darren Navarrette in what seems
 kind of like a junkyard where old cars are restored. 2009 was the second in 
what is hopefully an annual event. This year Darren got it in his head that
 all his old Minnesota friends needed to come down. I got a call from him a 
few months ago telling me that I had to come down. He said if I paid for my
 plane ticket he’d take are of the rest. He said Lance Mountain was coming,
 Hosoi, and a bunch of other old vert dudes. I remember saying ‘maybe’ when 
in the back of my head I knew I wasn’t going. It’s a horrible habit that 
I’m trying to kick. So just then I told him the truth. “Darren”, I said,
”thanks for the offer, but I haven’t skated an actual vert ramp in like 
seven years.” Then he says “skate? Who gives a shit? Just come down, 
drink beer and hang out!” I bought a ticket the next day.

There were maybe a dozen Minnesota skaters that went down. Woody and I were
 traveling companions which worked out well. On top of us there was Dave 
LeRoux, Justin Lynch, Ole, Brian Kevitt, M-Rod, Muller and Aaron Zdon.
There were a bunch of other MN transplants there too. Ty Cabaya, Chris
 Patenaude, Matt Condon, and probably others I forgot. On top of them there 
were other midwesterners that I hadn’t seen in years. Donny Dietrich and
 Steve Berra were there. Donny just got out of the joint after 6 or 7 years 
and was ripping. He’s married now, has a kid on the way, and is hyped on
life. Berra’s doing great. He was really excited to see Woody, LeRoux and
 Lynch. Everyone was. LeRoux literally started from the bottom of the ramp 
for the first hour he skated it. By the time he left he was starting to get 
his legs back under him. Madonna disasters, frontside nollies, body jars,
judo airs, etc. And Justin was ripping. He did most of his old lip tricks
 right away. He said he was having trouble with airs because he claims he’s
 too fat to grab his board (which isn’t true – I saw him do airs to fakie and
body jars). He did, unfortunately, break his wrist on a one-footed invert 
fakie on what may have been his last run of the weekend. Justin was a 
little nervous about going because of what was perceived as bad blood
 between him and some of the older pros (Thrasher naming him one of the 5
 most hated skaters and this was a Thrasher event). This was immediately
 squashed. Everyone there was hyped on him and everyone realized that was a
long time ago and Justin was what, 17 years old? There were a few awesome
 quotes over the weekend and Justin had my second favorite. He hadn’t seen 
much live vert skating in years so after watching guys like Hewitt,
 Navarette, Max Schaff, Mike Crum, Lincoln Ueda and Mike Fraiser destroy that 
ramp he said “Man, I’m never going to be pro.” But my favorite quote was 
from Mark Muller. I hadn’t seen him in a while and he looked very fit and 
trim. I asked him if he was on the divorce diet and he said something to 
the effect of “I realized that if I’m going to be divorced I better loose
 some weight and get a better personality.” Funny – I know the feeling.

The common thread throughout the weekend was beer, cigarettes, heat and 
skateboarding. Woody and I learned the first day that drinking beer without 
water out in the dessert was a bad idea. By the time Saturday rolled around
 we had a system pretty well worked out. Wear shorts, don’t drink too early,
and stay out of the sun. Saturday was packed. The Hell’s Angels had a 
booth there. Not sure what they were selling but I sure wasn’t going to 
talk to any of the girls wandering around for fear of getting stabbed. But 
pretty soon Lance showed up, then Hosoi, Rune Glifberg, Grosso, Max Dufour, Alfonso Rawls, Pat Duffy, Rick Howard, Mike Carroll, the Godoy twins, the
 Alba brothers, Steve Clair, on and on and on. Some skating, some just
 chilling. There were 6 bands that played, a car show and lots of food and 
beer for everyone.

If I told each of the short stories this would be far too long and boring so
 I’m going to try and sum up my highlights. Let’s see…

• The skating was awesome. Max Schaff, Fraiser and Rune were my favorites.
• We were at a bar with a band playing loud, annoying music. No one was on
the floor in front of the band at all. Then at one point I saw Sam Hitz
 walking toward the floor. He stood right in front of the band as they
 played and then jumped up & grabbed the bands pitcher of beer, poured 
himself one, and walked back to his seat in the back.
• Woody, one of the nicest, whitest guys in the world, almost got into a fight with
some dipfuck at a bar. We just got there when Woody went to the bar for a
 beer. He turned to the guy and said ‘How’s it going?’ The guy then turns 
to Woody and says something like ‘fuck you, (n-word).’ The guy kept it up
 calling everyone around him some pretty awful names and next thing you know 
he’s tossed onto the street where last I saw he was sleeping.
• Caving into peer pressure at 37 years old when on two different occasions 
I took shots of booze I never normally would have if not being demanded to 
by Frank Gerwer (vodka) and the next morning Mike Carroll (tequilla).
• Asking Fraiser if he could still do bluntslides and he says ’sure -
toeside or heelside?’ I said heelside and he made a perfect one first try 
(I shot a video of it which may or may not be on here).

• Navarrette’s generosity as well as his elguarial andrect. It was fucking 
gnarly.

I’ve been to lots of pro vert contests but this wasn’t at all what I 
expected. It was fun. No pressure, chill atmosphere, not even a contest. 
Everyone seemed to have forgotten about that part. Next year when I’ll leave 
my panties at home and bring my pads.