Why we skate.

I think we skate for that awesome sensation. You know the one I mean. That tingly feeling that you get that I think is better than pretty much anything I've experienced. It is satisfaction to the extreme. Nothing in my opinion comes close. Like those rare times when we go for a big trick, and land it. But not just landing it a bit sketchy like - maybe a little wobbly knee bend to compensate for over/under balance, or immediately stepping off the board - I mean when you f**king nail it, feet equally over truck bolts, no wobble, no need to tick-tack out, you just roll straight out - perfection.

Now, for myself and a lot of us, this is very rare. But when it happens, it is the best feeling in the world. You wanted all your friends, all your family, even you work partners and your boss, to have been standing there watching. But generally when this happens, there are no others around. Frustrating isn't it?

So why does it feel so good? Why should your entire central nervous system decide to throw a party when a plank of wood on wheels finally does what your brain has been wanting it to do for so long? Surely there are more important things in life to be ecstatic about? Like a birthday, or falling in love, or that affluence-inducing promotion at work, straight A's in your exams, or things of the sort. Possibly. But I have experienced all of those (except the straight A bit lol ) and none of those feelings are like last summer at my cousins skatepark, when I finally managed to nail my fakie 180 flip to manual to b/s 180 out, across an eight foot long, ten inch high grind box. Feet over truck bolts. No wobble. Just rolled away and came slowly to a stop. Balanced totally and perfectly. I wanted to scream! I wanted that to have been filmed! I wanted a sequence of it, so that I could mount it in a frame and hang it in my bathroom, so that anyone who decided to go to the Bathroom could look at it in amazement, and then return to the front room asking "Is that you in that sequence in the bathroom? That’s amazing!" But I didn’t film it or shoot a sequence. Nobody saw it. I just got the feeling. I wanted to do it again. The feeling was so good, I had to have more. So I went for it, same line in, same foot position, same mindstate. But it did'nt work. No where near. The first time round, the fakie 180 kickflip popped, and spun majestically under my feet, it was like slow motion, I gazed down at my board as it spun, adrenaline pumping. Landing in a manual with no wobble was a new experience for me. It felt so good as I ate up the distance in the wheelie, the far edge of the block arrived quicker than I expected, and I even managed to pop the backside 180 out.

But the second time was far from perfection. The fakie 180 flip hung up on the block - not enough height! I gormlessly stumbled forward to cancel out my momentum and prevent the doom-ridden slam we all want to avoid at every cost.

The second time the board shoots out, and I land hard on my butt, the board only coming to rest when it reaches the fence that penns the skatepark in. Dangit.

The third time I get the flip but no manual. The fourth time no manual. And the fifth. And the sixth. And so on and so on. I began to loose count of attemped, yet unsuccesful tries at this modest trick.

But I stopped trying when the fakie 180 flip spun about half way, clipping the edge of the block, and sending the hard edge of the canadian maple deck barrelling into my shinbone, the accompanying "donk" although rather acoustically pleasing, totally and utterly painful. This in turn sent me falling forward, hands out in front, and….slap those hands on the concrete!
So I limp back to my cousins car. Eyes watering. Shaking a little from the immense and very painful golf ball sized lump that has appeared on my left shin. I had a long way to drive home, I had no money for a drink. My leg hurt. It started to drizzle. Oh, and did I mention my leg hurt?
All of this to deal with, yet all I could think about was that perfect trick. That fuzzy buzzing tingly feeling was still there, peircing through the pain and anguish that I was suffering from the slam.

I left with a huge smile on my face. All the blood sweat and tears was worth it, because the feeling we all get when we successfully land that trick is so immense, so pleasing, and so satisfying it defies any explanation. It is what we all want, it is what we all strive for in skateboarding, and it is the addictive element which makes us pick our boards up again having slammed hard, or worse, broken something. It will always be there, whether we have just emulated Danny Ways 75foot long f/s 360, or a simple carve across a bank, the feeling is the reason we skate, and I'm so glad that I have had the opportunity to find it out first hand.