Days 11 and 12, respectively.

Oh my god. I've lost all semblance of time. Every time I post, I have to confirm dates and times over and over with the crew. Today marks two weeks. It feels like I've been gone for a month. This is a good sign? I'm pretty psyched on the abbreviated, bullet style recollections...

I woke up (warm and toasty) at 5:30 Tuesday morning and jumped out of the bus in my skivvies to wrap up our extension chord. I slid open the bus door, tossed our heat line on the floor and wriggled back into my mummy bag. I passed out promptly, only to be jolted from my road weary slumber by the frantic southern drawl of a mysterious truck stop goer. "Siiiiiiiiir, waaaaaake uuuuuuppp. Are you friends with that other fella from Vermont?" In my sleep I was warm, but now I was awake, and I was fucking freezing. "There's a guy out here that just hit the jackpot down at the casino; 100 grand! Ten thousand dollars!" Our strange wake up call had the whole bus stirring within moments. "Huuuuuury up, before his wife cuts him off!" he exclaimed. I felt fishy from the second I heard his voice. Geoff scrambled to get dressed just as fast as I did, and we rushed into the Flying J to search for the mystery man. He was nowhere to be found! We've theorized that the dude was some sort of manager trying to get us to move the (double parked) hippy bus. The encounter has provided endless parodies and hours of laughter; "Siiiiiiiiiiiirrrrr, wake uuuuuuuuuuupppppppppp, I waaannnnnaa staaaaaaabbbbb youuuuuuuuuuuu."

So anyways. Drove to Georgia, Logansville to be exact. Bay Creek skatepark. As soon as we pulled up we spotted Josh, the ripper from Knoxville. He had told us he was going to be on a trip with Fickle skateboards in Georgia, and because we had broken down and been put off schedule, we just happened to collide with him and his crew. The park was amazing. A near perfect, well flowing park with plenty of options for the bowl barney's and street soldiers alike. No lumps, no bumps, nothing but perfectly smooth concrete and buttery seamless metal. Everett was laid up on the benches hanging out with Loki, while me Geoff, Pierre and the Fickle crew maintained an HQ on the deck of the bowl. Geoff was ripping exceedingly hard, quickly finding lines and floating airs in the clamshell, until he slammed on a smithers and blew up his thought-to-be healed knee. I pushed it a little, but mostly just enjoyed the aesthetic of the park, and shooting the shit with some old dudes and the Fickle kids. I was happy to get a couple of stand-up 5-0s and smiths over the tiled death box, as well as a plethora of newly acquired carve grinds. After a bit, the Fickle dudes were off to hit up their Georgia rep's indoor ramp, but invited us to skate Duncan Creek park with them later. We accepted, and got our last lines in before making the 40 minute trek to the next park; a 5 bowl Wally Holiday creation. We pulled into the park to near dark to discover a myriad of kids mostly skating the poorly designed street section. While I hate Wally's coping I did have fun in the peanut and the flow bowl. The whole time I was petrified that I was going to get rolled in on by a bmexican. We made bacon and egg bagels. Fickle informed us that their next stop was Zion, an indoor park associated with Kris Markovich. They suggested that we tag along, and that there might be a possibility of an outlet to plug the bus into. The prospect seemed amazing; a legit place to sleep and some heat? There was further talk of another option and after Mike made one phone call, it was confirmed. Here is a synopsis of the following 24 hours. Pierre bought a 30$ Fickle board, and Mike hooked us up with a bunch of stickers. We were instructed to put them on our boards and follow them to Zion. We were introduced as "honorary riders" and granted access to the park for free. We skated the park for a minute and then relocated 200 ft to a warehouse for a private session on a 50' wide 9'/7' vert/mini ramp. Headed back to the park with dead legs for a complimentary Domino's pizza party w/as much Coke and Mountain Dew as we could drink. I skated the mini-ramp with Josh until 2 o'clock in the morning. Slept in the lounge of the park on some plush carpet. Awoke to a complimentary, all we could eat McDonald's breakfast and coffee. Took showers under the vert wall. Skated the vert ramp again. Followed the Fickle crew to the Skatepark of Athens; a mind-blowing Grindline creation. Tried to skate, shot the shit with Mike and Daniel, took a group photo, then went our separate ways.

Then we drove all night to Mobile Alabama. We blew a tire out and my sleeping bag rolled out of the bus somewhere along the way. We french pressed a bunch of coffee. After finding a Wal-Mart supercenter we popped the top and passed out at about 5 in the morning.

Thanks Fickle. Thanks Zion. Support your local skate scene and purchase yourself a Fickle board if you skate in the south. Pierre says they're solid, and after spending less than a day with them, we all consider them the homies. It was a weird, wild, bewildering 24 hours. It's hard to believe that we had only been on the road for 13 days at this point...