Thrasher Magazine

The year was 2006. The epic 'crete of the great Northwest was callin' so I organized my own adventure - half bros, half legends, all concrete curl. Exhumed from a Fed-Ex box, I offer up the leftovers (B-sides?) of this pretty-rad adventure. So it begins.

Heavy crew. They always say that, but look at 'em!

Grosso on the road. Captive for a week of innane questions about board graphics, videos, photos and stickers of my youth. He's still a good sport about crap like that.

Reedsport in the rain.

We wouldn't need Red's futon ... yet.

Yet!

The sun cracked through the next day, along with this egg (and almost Jeff's personal crack.) Heavy vert.

Rattray fondles to fakie. He would return shortly after for the kickflip version.

Ch-chunn! Off the extension.

David Andrecht-style handplant. Stalled and flapped.

A similar one ran in the mag, although I can no longer find it. Slightly more bent.

Keegan's cover outtake. Sometime's it's just that simple!

I still love this one.

Then, ollie floater leads to ankle disaster.

Got mad limpy from here.

'You mind if I get me tits out?' Stu asked. We did not.


Whahhh!

Klamath Falls!

One of the best parks of that era, definitely. Very cutting edge.

Totally amazing! They still got this thing run by the BMXers?

One-footer in the clover.

Boom!

Vert spine to bobsled run.

Grosso launched out of the moguls into the deep end.

It was some major sky time. We were trippin!

Plenty of time for nature on this one.




Brookings! That's the one where you can jump the pool. And by 'you' I mean John.

Doubles, definitely coerced.

Keegan's grassers could not be squelched.

Little bit of weather. Plenty of time for us to reflect ... on our mistakes.

Couple weird photos of Grosso in hotel rooms. No big deal.


Hey! Astoria!

Corner air on the dream graphics.

A better version of this was an Osiris ad, I believe.

And this was a Spitfire advert, but shot from the bottom. See! Secrets revealed!

Lincoln City. This was right when they built the cradle part under the roof.

Which was unfortunate for this young man.

I believe they told him to walk it off.

Stu was ready to party one evening. Can't remember where we were.

Nope, no way getting around it.

He couldn't understand why Jeff wouldn't drink with him.

'I can't do it Stu,' he explained.

'Just one beer!' Stu reasoned.

'Not even one. I can't do it," Jeff replied.

'What about one light beer?' Stu compromised.

The nerds turned in early.

This was Stu upon return.

Stu roomed with a young Russell Houghton. Whatever happened to the footage of this trip, anyway? Be fun to see.

Check out came early for Stu.

Much too early.

Dave Tobin's house in Portland.

Wife, kids, pool in the back. Not too shabby!

Matt Moffett was there, blasting as usual.

Shaggy Palmer, one of concrete's best!

Ultimate Phil! Fresh from art school.

Even Double C. Neg's flopped, but you get the idea.

Nice little compound.


This was the first of several satisfactory Crown Vic rentals, by the way (RIP.)

And finally, a visit to Phil Tedder's, he of coping unrivaled.

Though Stu definitely put it to the test.

Wow!

Lance, stymied by mucus, could only admire Jeff's Tatum from the sidelines.

You can do it. Put your ass into it. And he did.

I found these in the same box, too. John's backside grind from Crescent City. This was a Zero ad. If you're ever up there visiting a relative at Pelican Bay for sure search it out.

And a roast beef outtake from Grosso's interview that came out a few months later. That was a good one.

No real lessons to be learned from this trip, but I remember it fondly. Let's do it again in 2016! Thanks bros.