Good evening and my apologies for the delay. I had hoped to get all four entries up on consecutive days but in the spirit of the sentiment found on bumper stickers and in framed colorful drawings you can buy at the farmer’s market, life happened! It happened while I was making other plans and I made the god laugh. I have logged some emotional blunders and some really remarkable moments, most whilst in communication with my cats. Not true! I meant while hanging around naked with my friends. Oh boy I guess I just don’t know what I meant when I said “remarkable moments.”
ANYWAY. We woke up our third day and hit the road after eating some delicious eggs and having our first two cups of coffee. We started down the Oregon coast and were immediately so overpowered and delighted by the beauty of the green, fog and water. I hung my face out one of the windows in the sliding door of the van and let the wind punch me in the face for miles while we wended through tall trees, little towns and seafood shanties. My cheeks blew around like discarded plastic bags caught on some rebar in an empty lot. Thank you!! I sat back and we slid the van door open while we drove. I hadn’t done such a thing since Sister Spit rolled through Manhattan on a hot summer day with no A/C in 1997. We hurtled down Highway 1 and watched the damp fly by and hoped the Lincoln City park would be dry.
It was! At least at first. We rolled up and the first thing I saw was some lady shredding the pool. She had a long, dark brown braid and tight jeans. Everyone in the van leaped out and started investigating the place with great enthusiasm. There are many levels and areas and qualities of concrete. I skated the big bowl under the shelter until it started raining at a 45 degree angle and then when I got into the deep of the bowl I slid out and banged my tailbone. Which was fine, really. We got back in the van.
Our quest for sun and concrete landed us at Newport, where there is a sorta rough old park that has many bowls connected to each other and then a big piece of that square metal stuff used to frame buildings propped up on the side so you can board slide it for the rest of your life. It’s very long. There were two kids there, about 10 and 12 years old, who could not have been more bored by our existence. One of them had a board in the shape of a coffin, but a pinner, not some giant Creature board. When Bob or Yong-Ki or whomever it was asked the kid about his board it was like asking if he would please eat a pile of melting fish oil capsules. Regardless, they were really cute. We didn’t stay too long.
Next we went to Waldport, which was a beautiful park tucked in a grove of tall trees dropping needles everywhere. It is a sweet park. Lots of flow, a fun bowl, and it feels like you’re in a movie where horses are the main mode of transportation and your sword has a name. I skated this a little bit but was having a fatigue brought on by being a human with feelings. When will it END.
The last park of the day was Florence. It is large and in charge. I took one run which was super fun and then could not replicate it. I kept body slamming and getting frustrated. There were pasty kids on bikes and an inter-gender couple laying together on top of some part of the park. I felt full of rage at some parts of my life (hard to figure out how to be more generic than that), full of sadness, and I felt frustrated by not having more skills in the realm of skating. I spazzed out hard, threw my board, just completely made an ass of myself in a public setting. I wanted to break something and be set free by the finality of destruction. I wanted feeling to come back into my body. It was hard and intensely embarrassing. It is hard to be around people when I would normally choose to melt down alone in my room, over-think something then watch a movie and reflect on the superior quality of my relationship with my cats. Also I would make a truckload of popcorn and get nice and sick on it.
We went out for Thai food then found a campground. There was BEER happening. We rolled into our spot in the dark and quiet, then piled out of the van and set up tents. Then stood around and talked and made weird things up including figuring out what our skate spirit animals are. I will say that I am a narwhal. Goes well with GNAR-WALL. Though I wasn’t thinking of that when I chose it. At some point a gentleman appeared on a bluff above us and asked us to quiet down. Everyone immediately capitulated and apologized and started cleaning up. It seemed like the guy was so surprised that we weren’t jerks that he hesitated after we agreed to quiet down then asked, “Are you going fishing tomorrow?” We were not. There were a bunch of raccoons rooting through the garbage.
The mornings were all cool but not painful. When we woke I made scrambled eggs and bacon for our crew and Bob made coffee. All right in the van! Can you imagine! I walked down to the lake which was about a hundred yards away. I walked out on a dock then stood and looked at the dark green water, the towering trees and light blue sky. Two fisherman futzed around nearby, getting ready to put their boat in the water. I pleaded internally to stop feeling anything at all, or at least stop feeling cruddy. The best solution I’ve found to feeling bad (besides skateboarding) is to witness something beautiful or important that is bigger than me. People who truly suffer, giant trees, bodies of water. Animals. I looked for a good feeling. It took some time but I found it.