Twenty six years after its last ride, I went looking for it in the storage room of the house. H-Street Ron Allen board, the first of its kind, with the drawing of a chair on the top (not on the bottom, as was customary) of the board. Pink grip tape. Blue trucks tracker ultra light. Neon yellow Vision Blurs.
I found surfboards, bodyboards, diving equipment, empty and abandoned fish tanks, an ancient color TV… but no Ron Allen. It had somehow, sometime, escaped.
The day before, my childhood neighbor Betuco and I went for lunch to a steak house in our hood. We talked about escapades, triumphs, accidents, V8 filming, flying off the quarter pipe, and running away from thugs aboard a Natas Kaupas “Kitten” and a “Panther”. And then, when the last glass of red wine had been consumed and we were shaking hands, he said “before we part ways, check this.” He opened the trunk of his car, and there it was: the panther.
I still remembered how to…
“I am becoming a collector,” he said, “the classic models are being re-released. I have four decks, two Natas, two Roskopps… your H-Street is not available though, sorry bro.”
I am back in California. I don’t think I will ever ride a board again but, what the hell, I have set my eyes on this art piece.