Click link to view skate pics: http://zachpetschek.com/090605
First of all, I must preface this story. Friday, Zach & I experienced a hella ‘twilight zone’ moment & ran with it…as you’ll see, sometimes a person ‘gotta get in, to get out’….ride the strangeness through to the other side– so to speak. I know this sounds vague but here’s what happened. Salba has been telling me about the ‘Elvis’ pool for 15 years or so. “…one of the best pools out there, dude.“ Salba dropped this pearl of wisdom conspiritorially. His story has it that after the Northridge quake of 94, a hundred pools opened up in the valley. Salba, Zask, Tyco, Rhino, Pstone, and the rest of the heavy hitters along with Swope & Royak killed all that shit on a regular basis. The ‘Elvis’ stood out among the best.
Major obstacles were to be found in its white-plastered environs; like 2 love seats opposing one another, 2 sets of side stairs in the deep end and fire-cracker coping. These obstacles, along with big transitions & a very peculiar shape, made the “Elvis’ a task for any good pool rat. The ‘Elvis’ was a permission pool for a short while then quickly found itself relegated to the status of ‘legend’….the one pool you should’ve seen & rode but probably would never get the chance. A few weeks ago, the grapevine sent out the word that the ‘Elvis’ was empty again. Friday, I had the day to myself, called up Zach & left San Diego @ 6am for the long drive up. It was bleak, overcast & grey that morning. The sky was like dull metal and we rode quietly north listening to Katatonia & thought of ‘Elvis’. Over halfway up, I sent out a text to Big Al (who was meeting us ) that we were enroute. I received his reply. “Its raining hard”. I groaned & pulled over , phoning him. “Wet” Too wet”, Big Al stated tersely. Damn! Zach & I agreed to stop & get some coffee and here’s were shit got kicked fucking sideways. I pulled off the I-5 and stopped at a Starbucks.
As we got out of the car we saw a diner on the opposite corner called….GULP! “OZZIE’S DINER”.