This is a story about life, death, and creation.
It was a dark night in an Illumnated sea side parking lot… I was gliding on a hand made 3 ply birtch skatey (A product of Insnomnia and a creative burst.) I was carving up the asphault like no other before me. Insane powerslides, Berts, laid back tight turns, low to the ground, one hand sliding along the cement bank, searching for SOUL. I get up my speed, grab my board from benith me, Jump up, land, and SNAP! It was dead. No hospitial could help him…
What to do?
I greeved for a few days and today I had the strength to rebuild…
Bought a piece of Red Oak 1/2"x8"x32"
“You will be my new son.” I say…
I presented to him a template much like his older brother, but improved…
He accepted, and the planshape was finial…
After I cut off what was not him, I begain to foil the rails with my 2" hand plane.
I could have used a router, but where is the soul in that?
Now that he had 1/4 round rails, I begain to debate about the tail block.
What to choose?
Ahhhh. A hidden piece of Zebra wood. He is special enough for that.
More to add…
…PERFECT!
Nearly finished…
He just needs 8 holes and a pair of legs…
That will have to wait untill the morrow…
