“What up Jeff,” I answer.
“What you doing man?”
“Working up at Mellow. What are you up to?”
“I just packed up my car and am leaving Atlanta,” he tells me.
“Alright, I thought you weren’t coming down to Savannah until tomorrow.”
“Yeah I wasn’t going to but I just decided to leave tonight. I’ll be getting into town in about three and a half hours or so. Cool?”
“Alright, yeah. I should be getting cut from work in the next hour so I’ll be around once you get here,” I tell him.
“Right on. I’ll see you in a few hours then. Later.”
Jeff Beard and I met during the start of our freshman year at college. He came to school to study photography while I eventually made my way into writing. Our dorm rooms were next door to each other on the third floor of O-House, which coincidently housed a dozen other skaters, surfers, snowboarders and a variety of freshmen students who were also new to art school. I imagine that the common interests originally provoked this friendship, but by the time we started nearing the end of our freshman year of too many late nights followed by early morning classes, we decided to move out of the dorms. Jeff and I moved into a three-bedroom house with our buddy who is a fellow surfer studying graphic design, named Dillon. Jeff took the back room of the house because he goes to bed so early, then Dillon tells us he wants the front room for some reason, so I happily move into the middle. While we’re all in different majors, each of us share similarities in career aspirations that relate toward board sports in one way or another. In different ways each of the three of us each hopes to work professionally in the surf, skate, or even snowboard industries.
It’s safe to say that the three of us fit the profile of stereotypical surf rats based our scraggly blond heads of hair, sunburned noses and countless board sport posters, not to mention the number of boards lining the inside of our house. Dillon pays his one-third of rent money every month, goes home for winter and summer breaks, leaving Jeff and I in a house that doesn’t feel so crowded with two people. It’s here that Jeff and I start taking skate and surf trips on long weekends if given the chance. Living, and in this case traveling with someone, has a way of developing trust between people if both sides make the effort to pay their part.
Once junior year comes Jeff, Dillon, and I agree that we’ve outgrown the house at 527 E. Park Avenue. Each of us decides to find new housing with different roommates as soon as our lease is up, without anyone having any hard feelings. While Jeff and Dillon start to grow apart, I find myself still living in between them. Once the summer comes, Dillon goes home to Virginia and once again Jeff and I stick around for a relaxing summer quarter. We chase hurricanes up and down the coast whenever there’s a storm, and hit up skate parks along the way if possible, then go to class when necessary. Jeff even gets such quality photos from these trips he receives a spot in a local art gallery. When the show goes up he gets the pleasant surprise of an offer on a photograph he snapped of me dropping in on a wave in St. Augustine. Ironically it’s the shot he took just before a wave submerged his camera, almost retiring it permanently. Meanwhile, scaring Jeff into a world of panic, but fortunately the camera is fine and it’s this photo that sells first in the show. By the end of summer before the start of our senior year, Jeff makes the decision to move up to Atlanta’s campus because the city offers so much more professional opportunity for him with photography. Even in different cities we do a good job keeping in touch on a regular basis.
Now, jumping back to that third week of this much-needed winter break in the midst of our senior year of college, which has yet to offer any peace of mind–but only overwhelming responsibilities. I’m at work and the new girl working the phones keeps messing up the addresses on the tickets. Jeff coming down here couldn’t have come at a better time. All I have to do is make it through the rest of this Saturday night at Mellow Mushroom, and I’m done with work till the end of next week. I’ve crossed off Monday-Friday on the schedule for next week so Jeff and I take a trip down to Jacksonville for some necessary time away from winter break. Work still puts me on the schedule for Thursday night next week anyway.
Due to our hangover, I don’t make it in to check the schedule at Mellow on Sunday until it’s late afternoon. Jeff and I finally escape Savannah by sunset and head south for Jacksonville, Florida.
“What’s on your mind?” Jeff asks about an hour into the drive.
“Nothing really.”
“You look like you’re thinking pretty hard about something. You all right?” he asks.
“I guess I’m just glad to get out of Savannah for a change. I keep dreading that we have to come back in two days. You remember how it gets when you haven’t left the SAV in a while.”
“Yeah, I’m definitely glad to get out of Atlanta for a minute,” Jeff says to me.
“I’m really not looking forward to going back home to Texas for the holidays next week. I have to stay for two weeks this year. I don’t know if I can handle that much time with my mom. She always tries to get me to take pictures for her when I’m on vacation.”
“Hopefully we’ll get some decent surf this week, it’s supposed to grow by tomorrow morning,” I tell him. “You need a good surf session too. When’s the last time you got wet, last summer?”
“Yep. I’ve been skating a lot more in Atlanta though,” he quickly says back me with only a slight hint of disappointment in his voice from living so far from the ocean now. “I’m really looking forward to skating Kona again though. The last time I was looking at the pictures from the trip last summer I got a few new ideas for shooting.”
Before pulling into Jacksonville, Jeff and I decide to find a place with wings for dinner because of the unsatisfied craving we still have from Wild Wings being closed earlier at lunch. They were closed for who knows what holiday. We decide to eat at Dick’s Wings, which is only about three blocks from the Jacksonville Pier. Two pitchers, a huge appetizer, and too many wings later, Jeff and I start the hunt for a cheap hotel. Somehow we land a beachside room that has two queen-size beds for $72.99. We can even see the beach to keep an eye on the waves from our room if you hang your head out the window. In an effort for a good night’s rest before our early morning of surfing, followed by an afternoon of skating, we hit the sack around 2:00 am.
Monday morning we’re woken up by the sound of the housekeeping service knocking on the door. Half awake, Jeff barely hesitates before hopping out of his bed (rocking only his birthday suit) to answer the door. While the female room service worker is surprised by the sight of a naked guy with a haircut that looks like the lead singer’s hair from the band Flock of Seagulls with a Captain Hook mustache on top of that, I am unfazed. Imagine a naked guy the fits the previous description. He’s trying to squeeze into a wetsuit in the middle of the beach parking lot on Tybee Island next to his friends that are at least attempting to cover up under towels. This might explain how I’m not nearly as shocked as the poor women standing at our door with innocent anticipation to clean the room only to stumble into this sight when the door of our hotel room is opened.
After poking our heads out the window to scope out the waves, we suit up, take the boards off the roof of Jeff’s brand new silver Volkswagen GT, and head to the pier to surf. We see a handful of other surfers in the water posted up on the north side of the pier where it’s breaking the biggest, so Jeff and I head in that direction. Attempting the paddle out on the north side we immediately realize it isn’t the best idea once a set of seven-nine foot waves comes in, forcefully counteracting each stoke we take, pushing us back in the direction we’re paddling from. I’m only a few feet in front of Jeff when I start duck diving under what we’re hoping is the last wave separating us from the deepest breaking point. My body aches, and the water is reminding me how long it’s been since the last paddle out. As my board and I emerge out of the wave breaking over-head, the water grants a brief second and a half to anticipate what actually is the last wave of this incoming set. Jeff and I are swept back once again, but at least our real problems and responsibilities are waiting for us far behind on the shore.
Finally we make it past the break. Breathing heavily, without saying a word we silently tell one another how surprisingly hard that paddle was. Taking everything in, we look around and realize that we’ve drifted well over a hundred yards from where we started. The waves are still a good size where we drifted though, and it’s refreshing out in the water taking a moment to regain some strength. Neither of us is stressing how far we are now from the hotel. Jeff catches the first wave out of the two of us and predictably takes it left. We get separated because of the current, and both surf alone for another hour or so. I’m disappointed while backtracking south toward the pier since I only caught a few drops. Each of them left me closed out with nowhere to go on the wave but straight toward the shore. I get back and see Jeff already out of his wetsuit, changed, and holding his camera standing on top of the pier.
Finally we make it past the break. Breathing heavily, without saying a word we silently tell one another how surprisingly hard that paddle was. Taking everything in, we look around and realize that we’ve drifted well over a hundred yards from where we started. The waves are still a good size where we drifted though, and it’s refreshing out in the water taking a moment to regain some strength. Neither of us is stressing how far we are now from the hotel. Jeff catches the first wave out of the two of us and predictably takes it left. We get separated because of the current, and both surf alone for another hour or so. I’m disappointed while backtracking south toward the pier since I only caught a few drops. Each of them left me closed out with nowhere to go on the wave but straight toward the shore. I get back and see Jeff already out of his wetsuit, changed, and holding his camera standing on top of the pier.
“When did you hop out?” I ask him.
“I caught two pretty good rides and then had to come in. It sucked man, my leash snapped after I jumped off my board at the end of my first wave and it got taken all the way back into the shore,” he yells down to me.
“Weak!” I say back. “You get any good shots though?”
“Yeah. You ready to go get changed and hit up the skate shop before meeting up with Colby?”
Colby was born and raised in Jacksonville and he is as local as they come. Because he grew up here, he knows every skate park in Florida and can tell you how to get to each of them. We met Colby three years ago through a mutual friend at school and have been skating with him whenever possible since then. He’s the most passionate skater that either of us has ever met and his enthusiasm shines whenever he skates or even talks about it.
The shop we go to is called Skate Bomb. I need to purchase a new deck and Jeff’s in serious need for a new pair of shoes. The soul of his bright purple shoe on the foot has almost torn up past the toes. We get everything we need and more from Skate Bomb, then head to the new skate park off Monument Street. It’s sad that Jeff and I don’t know our way around better considering how many times we’ve escaped to come down to Jacksonville. It only takes three separate conversations over the phone with Colby before we can find this–only weeks old skate park, that’s absolutely free to skate.
Colby greets us in the parking lot with a smile on his face and it’s a little bit sad to see his mustache is no more, but it’s good to see him regardless. Once the hellos, handshakes, and how-you-doings are over and done with, the three of us make our way up the grass hill to the park that is infested with middle to high-school aged kids who are glaring at Jeff’s and my unfamiliar faces. Before Jeff can put his new black shoes on, Colby makes his way to the front of this teenage line of local skaters waiting for their turn to skate. He drops in, makes a line around the park, and shows Jeff, me, and the rest of the park what he’s got mastered on his deck. He hasn’t even finished his run and it’s clear Colby has made progress in his skating since we last saw him.
Jeff’s new shoes are too stiff for him and my stance is way off balance my new deck. As if it’s not intimidating enough walking through a crowd of local teenagers fresh just from a long day of school looking at you, these kids are not only youthfully limber, but already warmed up, and familiar with the skate terrain to top it all off. While we’re feeling out what the park has to offer, trying out brand new equipment, and sloppily skating around this condensed skate park, Jeff and I can’t help but laugh at what we must look like to these local kids. When you’re at a skate park small enough that only a person or two can skate at a time, you feel like a waste of everyone’s time if you don’t perform at your full potential. It’s not the best skate session, but it’s always cool watching Colby shred. And this park succeeds in warming both Jeff and I up in preparation for our next stop, Kona Skate Park.
“I’ll catch up with you guys tomorrow afternoon and we’ll skate Kona once I finish my last class,” Colby tells after directing us toward the park.
We call Colby once we’re on the way so he can remind us where we need to turn, which is pretty good for Jeff and I considering the detour we end up having to take around some road construction. The drive through the neighborhood of trailers and old houses is thought provoking. The community surrounding Kona isn’t necessarily an ideal place for a kid to grow up, but it’s refreshing to think about the positive influences that the skate park provide to all the neighborhood children. Not only is the skate park a safe hang out for them, it offers productive after school activity, promotes an active lifestyle in a safe way requiring all skaters to wear helmets, and also redirects impressionable kids from the streets onto a skateboard, bicycle, or even fruit boots (a.k.a. rollerblades).
It’s insane that this year is Kona Skate Park’s 31st year since first opened. Even more, it’s inspiring when you think of how long they’ve kept running it and how much this park dedicates to the youth of Jacksonville’s community. They even offer free skate time to kids as a reward for good grades in school. They’ve added onto the park throughout the years but the original pavement is still here, collecting chips, cracks, and dings alike providing a timeless piece of skate history with even more character. Anything a skater could ask for, they can find here. From old-school transitions, to an enormous vert-ramp, half-pipes, pools, bowls, even slalom runs, ramps, roll-ins, or just mainstream street skating, it’s all offered at Kona. This place still keeps up with the times for over thirty years now, and they’ve got the My Space page to prove how up-to-date they really are. The park has yet to get old to skaters.
The website promoting Kona says it has provided thousands of otherwise outcast kids with a place to go to express their individuality with skateboarding. And while the Ramos family has earned a great deal of respect and appreciation from the skate community in the eyes of beginners and pros alike, owner Martin Ramos isn’t recognized nearly enough for his kindness and everything else that he’s given to so many of us. Marty made Jeff and I feel right at home while escaping to Kona and if it wasn’t for him, we couldn’t have documented this experience like we did.
As we park the car, the doors are open before even coming to a complete stop. After grabbing our boards and helmets, Jeff and I practically skip through the front doors of Kona. Without having to wait in line behind anyone, the guy working the front desk introduces himself as Brock, then pulls up our accounts on their weathered computer screen covered in stickers. We each pay the $8.00 fee to skate, Brock gives us neon green wristbands, and then Jeff asks him, “Is it cool if I take some photographs while we skate this afternoon?”
“Um, I can’t really say. I’d have to ask the owner. Marty is meeting with somebody upstairs right now, but I’ll ask him when he comes down. I’m sure he’ll be all right with it though.”
“Thanks Brock. I brought some of my cards too if you guys want to leave them out anywhere in the store,” Jeff says handing a stack to him.
“Great. I’ll tell Marty to come out and find you guys once I see him. Have a good skate, dudes.”
Walking out the door and into the park Jeff and I see something unfamiliar forcing us to pause for a moment. The place is almost completely empty. We turn toward one another, uncontrollably grinning in anticipation of the skate session that is about to occur. It’s like looking at two little kids in a candy shop anticipating a taste of everything sweet there is in the store, or finding yourself in an empty amusement park with no lines and any ride at your disposal. We take in this overwhelmingly beautiful sight of an unpopulated skate park for a second, then skate off in opposite directions to taste every flavor Kona has to offer.
After a few minutes of skating, the owner, Martin Ramos comes out to introduce himself. We all shake hands and without hesitating he tells Jeff to photograph whatever he wants. By the time Jeff goes out to the car to grab his equipment, a few guys with rollerblades show up and start skating. When Jeff is walking back through the door that leads out to the skate area his eyes light up upon the sight of one of the kids rollerblading as he pulls off a front flip with a 180 landing it. When it comes to publishing skate photos, the rule is that unless the skater lands the trick in front of you at least once, you aren’t aloud to publish the photo.
Upon witnessing this trick, Jeff immediately approaches the kid in skates and asks him, “You think it’d be cool if I got a few shots of you doing that again?”
“Sure,” he says back.
So Jeff takes out his camera, hands me a flash positioning me so I can catch the best light, then lays down on the ground so the kid can flip directly over his body. Luckily we saw him land that first jump because it turns out that this skater is little camera shy. He didn’t land a single flip after that first one, but because we witnessed him landing it, there won’t be any trouble releasing the picture. Putting his body and equipment at risk for a good shot has become a familiar pattern when it comes to Jeff’s photography. Just before magic hour hits, I start skating down the infamous J-Bowl. This section of the park was there when they originally opened. It takes you up a wall, around a bend, and shoots you straight at a big bowl that’s at the end of the run. Jeff scopes out the line I’m been taking down J-Bowl for a minute and once again, he lies down across the pavement so he can get the shot he wants.
“You’re going to lay right there?” I ask him.
“Yeah.”
“If I have to bail when I’m up on that wall I’m going to land right on top of you.”
“You got it man,” he says back to me.
Just before sundown the sky warps into contrasting colors of turquoise and pinkish orange, and it finally hits Jeff and I. We’re exhausted, cramping up from all the physical activity from today. Tired, sweaty, and stiff we pack up our gear then head back toward the hotel. As we’re getting ready to walk out the front door Martin comes to see us out. He asks how our day went.
“It was good,” I say. “We’re planning to come back and skate tomorrow again before we hit the road.”
“I’ll be here. Yeah, I was watching you guys shoot a little bit when you were out there,” he says. “I can ask a few of the kids on the Kona Skate Team to come up here tomorrow and skate if you want to get some more photos.”
It’s the crack of noon when we finally wake up. Once again, I poke my head out the window and see what the waves look like. Jeff looks at me and says that he doesn’t really feel like surfing today and I admit it too, my body isn’t up for it either. We go over to Colby’s house and make plans to meet up later in the day at Kona.
Today the photos get better. Colby and I even take a few pictures of Jeff skating. It takes him a few tries, but he finally sticks this ballsy kick turn on a ramp they built the on top of a quarter pipe.
Once again, Colby shows us something new and unexpected. You can tell he grew up skating this place when you watch how effortlessly he makes transitions from one part of the park to another, without ever needing to slow down or think about his next move. He can even tell you how most of the cracks have formed in the pavement over all these years.
We watch him bust an air out of the pool then land it. For Jeff and I it’s the first time we’ve seen him pull this off and the picture proves the talent that Colby has on his board.
Jeff and I are sticky, and smell ranker than you can put into words when we start driving north toward Savannah. Luckily we’re not too scabbed up or bloody for the ride. We only have a few shallow cuts, some spots of road rash, and a few bruises each, which is nothing to complain about considering it’s after two long days of skating hard. Once back in Savannah, the two of us grab a beer from the case we brought back from Florida, then take turns rinsing off in a hot showers. After we’re both clean and in clothes that aren’t smelly or drenched in sweat, Jeff and I grab another beer, then sit on the couch and start looking through all the photos on Jeff’s laptop. Before he gets through all the pictures or I can even finish my drink, I fall asleep on the couch before the stroke of midnight for the first time in years. The anxiety is temporarily gone. Life starts up again tomorrow, but it should be better now that we made a whole new photo album of skating and surfing to self medicate on once the stress comes back.
“I caught two pretty good rides and then had to come in. It sucked man, my leash snapped after I jumped off my board at the end of my first wave and it got taken all the way back into the shore,” he yells down to me.
“Weak!” I say back. “You get any good shots though?”
“Yeah. You ready to go get changed and hit up the skate shop before meeting up with Colby?”
Colby was born and raised in Jacksonville and he is as local as they come. Because he grew up here, he knows every skate park in Florida and can tell you how to get to each of them. We met Colby three years ago through a mutual friend at school and have been skating with him whenever possible since then. He’s the most passionate skater that either of us has ever met and his enthusiasm shines whenever he skates or even talks about it.
The shop we go to is called Skate Bomb. I need to purchase a new deck and Jeff’s in serious need for a new pair of shoes. The soul of his bright purple shoe on the foot has almost torn up past the toes. We get everything we need and more from Skate Bomb, then head to the new skate park off Monument Street. It’s sad that Jeff and I don’t know our way around better considering how many times we’ve escaped to come down to Jacksonville. It only takes three separate conversations over the phone with Colby before we can find this–only weeks old skate park, that’s absolutely free to skate.
Colby greets us in the parking lot with a smile on his face and it’s a little bit sad to see his mustache is no more, but it’s good to see him regardless. Once the hellos, handshakes, and how-you-doings are over and done with, the three of us make our way up the grass hill to the park that is infested with middle to high-school aged kids who are glaring at Jeff’s and my unfamiliar faces. Before Jeff can put his new black shoes on, Colby makes his way to the front of this teenage line of local skaters waiting for their turn to skate. He drops in, makes a line around the park, and shows Jeff, me, and the rest of the park what he’s got mastered on his deck. He hasn’t even finished his run and it’s clear Colby has made progress in his skating since we last saw him.
Jeff’s new shoes are too stiff for him and my stance is way off balance my new deck. As if it’s not intimidating enough walking through a crowd of local teenagers fresh just from a long day of school looking at you, these kids are not only youthfully limber, but already warmed up, and familiar with the skate terrain to top it all off. While we’re feeling out what the park has to offer, trying out brand new equipment, and sloppily skating around this condensed skate park, Jeff and I can’t help but laugh at what we must look like to these local kids. When you’re at a skate park small enough that only a person or two can skate at a time, you feel like a waste of everyone’s time if you don’t perform at your full potential. It’s not the best skate session, but it’s always cool watching Colby shred. And this park succeeds in warming both Jeff and I up in preparation for our next stop, Kona Skate Park.
“I’ll catch up with you guys tomorrow afternoon and we’ll skate Kona once I finish my last class,” Colby tells after directing us toward the park.
We call Colby once we’re on the way so he can remind us where we need to turn, which is pretty good for Jeff and I considering the detour we end up having to take around some road construction. The drive through the neighborhood of trailers and old houses is thought provoking. The community surrounding Kona isn’t necessarily an ideal place for a kid to grow up, but it’s refreshing to think about the positive influences that the skate park provide to all the neighborhood children. Not only is the skate park a safe hang out for them, it offers productive after school activity, promotes an active lifestyle in a safe way requiring all skaters to wear helmets, and also redirects impressionable kids from the streets onto a skateboard, bicycle, or even fruit boots (a.k.a. rollerblades).
It’s insane that this year is Kona Skate Park’s 31st year since first opened. Even more, it’s inspiring when you think of how long they’ve kept running it and how much this park dedicates to the youth of Jacksonville’s community. They even offer free skate time to kids as a reward for good grades in school. They’ve added onto the park throughout the years but the original pavement is still here, collecting chips, cracks, and dings alike providing a timeless piece of skate history with even more character. Anything a skater could ask for, they can find here. From old-school transitions, to an enormous vert-ramp, half-pipes, pools, bowls, even slalom runs, ramps, roll-ins, or just mainstream street skating, it’s all offered at Kona. This place still keeps up with the times for over thirty years now, and they’ve got the My Space page to prove how up-to-date they really are. The park has yet to get old to skaters.
The website promoting Kona says it has provided thousands of otherwise outcast kids with a place to go to express their individuality with skateboarding. And while the Ramos family has earned a great deal of respect and appreciation from the skate community in the eyes of beginners and pros alike, owner Martin Ramos isn’t recognized nearly enough for his kindness and everything else that he’s given to so many of us. Marty made Jeff and I feel right at home while escaping to Kona and if it wasn’t for him, we couldn’t have documented this experience like we did.
As we park the car, the doors are open before even coming to a complete stop. After grabbing our boards and helmets, Jeff and I practically skip through the front doors of Kona. Without having to wait in line behind anyone, the guy working the front desk introduces himself as Brock, then pulls up our accounts on their weathered computer screen covered in stickers. We each pay the $8.00 fee to skate, Brock gives us neon green wristbands, and then Jeff asks him, “Is it cool if I take some photographs while we skate this afternoon?”
“Um, I can’t really say. I’d have to ask the owner. Marty is meeting with somebody upstairs right now, but I’ll ask him when he comes down. I’m sure he’ll be all right with it though.”
“Thanks Brock. I brought some of my cards too if you guys want to leave them out anywhere in the store,” Jeff says handing a stack to him.
“Great. I’ll tell Marty to come out and find you guys once I see him. Have a good skate, dudes.”
Walking out the door and into the park Jeff and I see something unfamiliar forcing us to pause for a moment. The place is almost completely empty. We turn toward one another, uncontrollably grinning in anticipation of the skate session that is about to occur. It’s like looking at two little kids in a candy shop anticipating a taste of everything sweet there is in the store, or finding yourself in an empty amusement park with no lines and any ride at your disposal. We take in this overwhelmingly beautiful sight of an unpopulated skate park for a second, then skate off in opposite directions to taste every flavor Kona has to offer.
After a few minutes of skating, the owner, Martin Ramos comes out to introduce himself. We all shake hands and without hesitating he tells Jeff to photograph whatever he wants. By the time Jeff goes out to the car to grab his equipment, a few guys with rollerblades show up and start skating. When Jeff is walking back through the door that leads out to the skate area his eyes light up upon the sight of one of the kids rollerblading as he pulls off a front flip with a 180 landing it. When it comes to publishing skate photos, the rule is that unless the skater lands the trick in front of you at least once, you aren’t aloud to publish the photo.
Upon witnessing this trick, Jeff immediately approaches the kid in skates and asks him, “You think it’d be cool if I got a few shots of you doing that again?”
“Sure,” he says back.
So Jeff takes out his camera, hands me a flash positioning me so I can catch the best light, then lays down on the ground so the kid can flip directly over his body. Luckily we saw him land that first jump because it turns out that this skater is little camera shy. He didn’t land a single flip after that first one, but because we witnessed him landing it, there won’t be any trouble releasing the picture. Putting his body and equipment at risk for a good shot has become a familiar pattern when it comes to Jeff’s photography. Just before magic hour hits, I start skating down the infamous J-Bowl. This section of the park was there when they originally opened. It takes you up a wall, around a bend, and shoots you straight at a big bowl that’s at the end of the run. Jeff scopes out the line I’m been taking down J-Bowl for a minute and once again, he lies down across the pavement so he can get the shot he wants.
“You’re going to lay right there?” I ask him.
“Yeah.”
“If I have to bail when I’m up on that wall I’m going to land right on top of you.”
“You got it man,” he says back to me.
Just before sundown the sky warps into contrasting colors of turquoise and pinkish orange, and it finally hits Jeff and I. We’re exhausted, cramping up from all the physical activity from today. Tired, sweaty, and stiff we pack up our gear then head back toward the hotel. As we’re getting ready to walk out the front door Martin comes to see us out. He asks how our day went.
“It was good,” I say. “We’re planning to come back and skate tomorrow again before we hit the road.”
“I’ll be here. Yeah, I was watching you guys shoot a little bit when you were out there,” he says. “I can ask a few of the kids on the Kona Skate Team to come up here tomorrow and skate if you want to get some more photos.”
It’s the crack of noon when we finally wake up. Once again, I poke my head out the window and see what the waves look like. Jeff looks at me and says that he doesn’t really feel like surfing today and I admit it too, my body isn’t up for it either. We go over to Colby’s house and make plans to meet up later in the day at Kona.
Today the photos get better. Colby and I even take a few pictures of Jeff skating. It takes him a few tries, but he finally sticks this ballsy kick turn on a ramp they built the on top of a quarter pipe.
Once again, Colby shows us something new and unexpected. You can tell he grew up skating this place when you watch how effortlessly he makes transitions from one part of the park to another, without ever needing to slow down or think about his next move. He can even tell you how most of the cracks have formed in the pavement over all these years.
We watch him bust an air out of the pool then land it. For Jeff and I it’s the first time we’ve seen him pull this off and the picture proves the talent that Colby has on his board.
Jeff and I are sticky, and smell ranker than you can put into words when we start driving north toward Savannah. Luckily we’re not too scabbed up or bloody for the ride. We only have a few shallow cuts, some spots of road rash, and a few bruises each, which is nothing to complain about considering it’s after two long days of skating hard. Once back in Savannah, the two of us grab a beer from the case we brought back from Florida, then take turns rinsing off in a hot showers. After we’re both clean and in clothes that aren’t smelly or drenched in sweat, Jeff and I grab another beer, then sit on the couch and start looking through all the photos on Jeff’s laptop. Before he gets through all the pictures or I can even finish my drink, I fall asleep on the couch before the stroke of midnight for the first time in years. The anxiety is temporarily gone. Life starts up again tomorrow, but it should be better now that we made a whole new photo album of skating and surfing to self medicate on once the stress comes back.
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