Gleaming the Tube

by Colin Choy

“These boys was gleaming the tube,” said one officer to another as we stood in aggravated silence. A hundred bucks and six months probation was the price of admission to gleam this tube. I shouldn’t complain, first time in twenty years of skating I actually got cited for it.

I wondered if these yo-yo cops had any idea what it’s like to skate in twenty-two foot diameter steel pipes. Not likely. In fact, most of the general population probably hasn’t a clue as to the pure adrenaline rush a full pipe has to offer. Of course, anything will give you adrenaline. A basketball game in overtime on T.V. gives most people all the adrenaline they can handle. But 10:30 frontside looking over your shoulder and beginning to freefall just can’t be beat.

As the citations were being written under a blazing Arizona sun in July, I smiled to myself reminiscing on the last two hours of being in the ring with gravity.

Full pipes are a rare thing these days. Few are skateable and even fewer are large enough to risk getting busted for. It ain’t like the days of yore, going to Upland daily in the summer, skatin’ that textured beauty. No, skateparks with pipes are not happening this time around. But they’re out there, just as this one was, a C.A.P. (Central Arizona Project) wonder with a slight downward pitch located somewhere near Lake Pleasant.

The steel, almost black, absorbed nearly all of the light, creating an eerie lack of shadows. A perfect skating surface, not too slick and not too rough, made for unreal thrusters going way beyond one’s own threshold of sanity. The slight pitch made for some crazy lines, going downhill meant going higher each carving turn until I was way past vert. A cess slide was needed to straighten out and start heading uphill. Ass touching the wall, my board turned and started heading back down, my legs stretched out as far as they could to keep the wheels in contact with the pipe. My stomach cried and my heart made itself known as I fell towards the bottom. One mistake now and it’s time to meet the flat. Going back uphill made my legs scream in burning disagreement while the rest of me enjoyed the endorphin payback. Bros Marty, Alton and Josh kept the session alive as we egged each other on to go higher. No type of terrain could be more pure and these gleamers savored every moment they were given.

There hasn’t been a pipe quite like this one here in AZ for many moons. The last one that comes to mind is the Price Pipe in Mesa. Sixty feet underground lies an eighteen foot pipe now completely filled with street runoff water. Brothers Alba and Brian Brannon made the thing look real small. Another was the monster twenty-four footer in Phoenix. That one also felt the heavies tickle her roof. But somehow, that one still looked big. My next project is Horse Mesa Dam along the Salt River. A twenty footer sits tucked in a rock wall near the base of the dam. Items needed to complete the mission include a boat, a full moon, kitty litter, and a prayer. Oh yeah, a ninja suit may come in handy.

There will be another some day, but who knows when or where? And when it happens, rest assured that the old dogs will come out of hibernation and once again caress her wondrous curves. Maybe there’s one going near your town. Don’t be foolish and pass it up. Hit it up with passion. She probably won’t last forever…

As we packed up the truck and signed our tickets, I couldn’t help but feel a little bittersweet. I knew that going back was not an option, it just ain’t worth doing time. But we did get to skate a full pipe, which in itself makes it all worthwhile. “Gleaming the tube?” the other officer responded. “What were you doin’ down there, swimmin’?” I didn’t bother to answer. The injustice was already served.