It was that golden hour of the evening, and the cool late summer breeze was up, making the trees and fields all rustle in unison. My brother Isaac came flying by on his longboard, and I watched as he carved out the road: one side, to the other, and then as he turned, he leaned down and he touched the ground, the pucks of his sliding gloves and his wheels screeching until he came to a halt. I breathed in as I remembered some of my previous crashes.
Walking up the hill against the wind, the nerves were building up, the fear of crashing and hurting myself was rising up to my throat. I stood atop the hill, looking at the wheat fields painted yellow in the afternoon sun. The shade from the trees covered the road, and at the bottom of the hill was my brother. A chill ran through my body. It was now or never. I took the rim of my hat and spun it around so it wouldn’t fly off as I rode down.
I put my right foot on the front of my board and pushed off setting my back foot into the goofy/regular foot stance style I ride with. My wheels spin and rolled faster and faster, and I instantly started overthinking the slide I had to perform. I thought I could jump and run, but I was going too fast, I had to hit this slide to slow down. I carved one side to the other but my balance wasn’t right and when I bent down, my deck shot out to the side and I landed on my side. The impact knocked the wind out of me and I rolled over gasping for air. Even in this moment I was able to see the beauty of the scenery that was surrounding me. The clouds moved peacefully, birds flying by singing their summer songs, and the beach trees whispered to each other softly.
This was why I love boarding, the feeling of it is so soulful. There’s something wonderful about the stark differences in the things that happen while I’m riding. The high adrenaline of doing something potentially dangerous while surrounded by the serenity of a summers night that gives the perfect ambient atmosphere mixes seamlessly. It’s the best way to clear your head and focus on enjoying yourself, and being free, enjoying the youthful spirit of summer.
Every time I fall off my board and crash the tar, I’ll bang myself up, but I get up time and time again with knees and elbows caked with blood and gravel and breathe in the air and look around and feel determined. Whether it be in Corinth, Dover-Foxcroft, or Bar Harbor, Maine; the feeling stays the same, providing the perfect juxtaposition of a summer night.