So this is where I am at right now, scanning through old photos of the days when I used to blade with other people all the time, and really make the effort to take my camera out of the bag during every session. Even if it’s just to snap some scenic shots or the random, not so creative black and white shot of the homeless man on the corner. Not to say I don’t skate most every day of the week… it’s just that situations in life have left me choosing odd times to cruise, more often than not, by myself. I find great satisfaction just lacing up at a random skatepark around sunrise and jamming around some bowls before work. Something about the combination of an empty skatepark, good tunes in my ears, morning air, that lukewarm cup o’joe, and the faint sound of traffic off in the distance makes me enjoy skating to the fullest… or so I thought.

Then I find gems like these, just hanging out on a hard-drive somewhere, that spark up that oh-so-familiar desire to cut out of work early, give the dudes a jingle, and carve around the open pavement looking for new territory to blade. Street skating has always been a big part in the enjoyment I get out of this life. Not just the skating itself, but the situations, conversations, and altercations we involve ourselves in along the way. Shit, I miss that right now.

So in the true spirit of staying in my rut, I’ll just leave this here and focus more attention at what I should watch on Netflix tonight. Here’s a good pal of mine, a true master of blade, Hayden Ball, bumping up reverse roll to wallride back in to hill bomb in a back alley somewhere in Golden Hill, San Diego.