7 Shreddly Sins Tour

Seven Shreddly Sins Tour

Seven Shreddly Sins Tour

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reminisce about these trips outside crowded bars or on sweaty summer steps, where menial moments are embellished to the point of skate lore.

When I first heard we were going to an island I was intrigued. Is life away from the Mainland really that much different? According to the American Journal of Preventative Medicine, people who live inland are not as happy as those near water. Such facts could account for the “Island Vibe” stereotypes. It could also be the reliance on a ferry system, meaning things always have to wait. Or possibly Jamaica’s widespread infamy for being marijuana connoisseurs and all-round champion chillers has just rubbed off on every other island.

We left Ultimate Distribution in Richmond, BC, on a sunny Friday morning for Vancouver Island, which is the largest off the West Coast of North America. It was a nautical-themed adventure—at least our tour poster advertised that. Traditionally, pirates have always been hated yet revered—almost admired. Desmond Hoostie reeked havoc on a 7-Eleven in Courtenay, stealing a plastic display hamburger and throwing it into the street. The same employee, who was on shift and called the police, showed up at the demo the next day excited to see the skating and shake hands with the same guys who were his enemies the night prior. I guess everyone wants to be friends with a pirate. As for our tour personnel, the heavily talented seven Shreddly Sinners became six since internationally handsome professional stuntman Jordan Hoffart was unable to make it. Pressing onward was Desmond, Adam Hopkins, Jorden Murray, Dan Redmond, Drew Summersides and Portland’s Danny Tumia.

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Sleeping Quarters

Captains Craig Williams and Rich Odam, both of whom oozed with the responsibilities of being fathers and drivers. For reasons unknown, their room was often in a different area of the hotel than the other two. Like myself, these two were essential when it came to the inner workings of a skate trip. Rich and myself, the photographer and videographer, are accustomed to tagging along, but for Craig the TM, it was one of his first without the responsibility spotlight shining solely on himself. He still ripped the demos but hopefully enjoyed the luxury of not being required to.

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Drew Summersides, Dan Redmond and myself indulged in conspiracy theories, skate gossip, the editing suite, and cigarettes. I weaseled my way into their room under the ruse of needing Drew’s laptop to capture footage each evening. Backing up footage was important, but I also needed the luxury to decide on staying in or venturing further down the hall…

YouTube, energy drinks, 3 a.m. coffee and disturbingly girly alcoholic preferences. Always good for a laugh, you could find Adam Hopkins, Desmond Hoostie, Jorden Murray

and Danny Tumia awake at all hours of the night, likely listening to Danny, who has a remarkable story regarding anything and everything.

These four coexisted in perfectly balanced chaos, more or less.

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his life for our amusement was Adam. He’ll shy away from it in conversation, which speaks to his character, but Adam thrives in highpressure situations and loves to put on a show. Like his big 50-50, it was done when a demo was waiting and while being mercilessly teased by Craig. Once we arrived at the park, a $20 offer was raised and Adam was

ampbell River was our first stop, and there was no river to be seen. Instead an ocean inlet where cruise ships dock and beach fires are legal. It was here that Adam grinded the biggest rail of the trip. With our would-be mascot Jordan Hoffart suffering illness in California, the most suitable standin for demo madness and risking

rolling away from a 540, first try.

Days later our Evel Knievel rolled down a 15-foot rock barefoot on his board, to a dangerously tumultuous river with a hundred spectators yelling “yolo” at him. James Bond movies can’t ever be tense—you’re just confident that no matter what he’ll be okay, plus some girl will be waiting. Must be nice to be Adam.

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an Redmond enjoys waking up early to go skateboarding. An admirable and bizarre combination occurs in nature when a grown-ass man with a solid work ethic finds himself cross-bred with a skate rat. But of course no one else would get up with him. Dan’s claims of sunrise shreddery were never put

to the test, but I for one believe he would have followed through.

Dan unfortunately beat his own ankles to wet noodles during our second stop, Courtenay, and was forced to watch the rest of his trip unfold without him. A skate trip without skating can really bring out your true colours, but he stayed positive, motivated and even sober.

With Jorden Murray’s naturopathic remedies filling the van we got to see Dan testing them out. At one point in the van, without notice, Danny exclaimed: “Redmond is better than a pair of tits!” I’m teetering on how I feel about this comment, but you get the idea he was well-liked.

Early Bird

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Qualified A

s far as girls go, we noticed they all leave the Island before turning 18, and this is where Drew makes an entrance. He recently chopped his Braydon Szafranski blond locks into a clean, little self-proclaimed boymeets-world bob. Being the youngest on the trip, he was the only member of the van qualified to chat with girls in the high school age bracket. The usual persistent catcalls rang from our van, but if any birds came near it was all on Drew. He handled this terrible burden with a ruthless confidence that made us all proud. Drew confided in me on the trip that upon moving to Vancouver, he’d

fan-out on local skaters at the park or in the bar, feeling they were celebrities.

Now, barely a year later, he’s in their shoes, appearing in magazines and going on tours. Drew is also a trained gymnast, and although my expertise in that area is tremendously limited, I can deduce that gymnastics will not hurt your skateboarding. It also comes in handy during summer recreational activities such as cliff jumping, bridge jumping and jumping off random shit in general. At any water hole Drew was the talk of the town, if he didn’t have enough help already.

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Java Script T

hree a.m. coffee, and not because he’s getting up for work,” is still the stupidest notion I’ve ever heard, but you’ve gotta love Danny Tumia for it. I have witnessed him make a pot of coffee and then pass out, mug in hand, claiming he’d be up for hours. Danny actually introduces himself at Skeletor, everyone’s favourite villain from Masters of the Universe, though I’d suspect the nickname refers to his slender build more than superhuman strength.

Flying up from Portland for the trip, Danny was our international star; at least we presented him that way.

Kids didn’t have a clue, and how could they? He’s a funny geek with extreme A.D.D. who skates amazing and dishes out torment as well as he can take it.

On a Monday evening out in Nanaimo, our third stop, we found ourselves the sole occupants at a strip club, yet we were still duped into paying cover. Quickly depleting our per diem, the talent was becoming frustrated with our pitiful tips. As I melted into my seat plotting an exit strategy, Danny broke the ice by climbing into the glittered cage and channeling Kate Upton while bubbles poured from the ceiling.

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#FISH

anny’s biggest fan during an event like the strip club situation was always Jorden Murray. He’s a Salmon Arm, BC, transplant, so the experiences taken from growing up in a very small pond have groomed him for success in the most awkward of social situations. At a truck stop Tim Hortons, en route to our fourth destination, Duncan, Jorden was loudly battling Danny in a bout of napkin races, during which the edge of a napkin sits on your lip and the winner is decided by the

speed it enters your mouth without using hands. Jorden struck up a conversation with a couple of 40-something mothers, which revolved around the intricate uses of #yolo—the Earth’s most painful acronym. One mother of three, enamoured with Jorden, confessed her own catchy phrase, #fish, which she described with the shy glee of a teenage girl: Fuck It, Shit Happens. Jorden is now attempting to broaden #fish’s pop culture relevance, but fortunately he’s found only minor success.

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Clown Food D

esmond Hoostie is a staple character at most East Vancouver skateparks. You’ll commonly see him heavily sweated, pushing his own mental and physical boundaries, oblivious to watchful eyes or documenting cameras while battling some technical math equation. Little-known facts about Desmond include: a gentle handshake, great sense of humour, and perfectly placed gangster quotes. Dez also has eyes for McDonalds. His lust for the clown’s deal meal is unmatched, and would eventually leave his body in a state of shock. I was beginning to get worried, but he explained “it was the cheapest eats, guaranteed.” I’ve heard the legend of Daniel Haney, being thrifty on trips so he’d make money on the leftover per diem, but as the trip progressed I felt bad watching Dez eat cold ravioli out of a can while we chowed on Safeway sandwiches and Momma burgers.

But he took it all in stride.

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Staying Power W

e were only in Sooke for a couple of hours to visit a single skate spot. It was higher up, colder, and down the hillside you could see the tops of clouds and the beginnings of the Juan de Fuca Strait. Our purpose was a waterpower gap, and hucking commenced instantly.

Locals watched from roofs, deer were calmly grazing and many a nature shit was expelled. Good tricks went down, which is why the cameras were out and firing for the complete stay. The big event of the day though was Desmond seeing his life flash before his eyes. He Brandon Turner’d on the

run-up, sketching out but still attempting the trick, and at the final moment tried to stop. His inertia wasn’t having it, sending Dez over the edge, down the drop, into the opposing wall and for the first time in Sooke, the session went silent. Luckily, against all odds, he was fine. He even got back up and did the damn bigspin. But his nerves were shot, and hours after we left he was still shaking with stress. It’s fortunate the reservoir’s dimensions aren’t comparable to the Jeremy Wray water towers, because filming for Faces of Death isn’t really my thing.

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The Islanders O

ur final stop was Victoria, our province’s capital city and biggest opportunity to get some final street skating done, along with a sweet demo and BBQ hosted by the local shop, Coastline. The sincerity and hospitality that shone in our direction was legendary everywhere we’d been. The owner of Boardwalk in Campbell River had us over for dinner. The owner of Underground in Nanaimo took us to the local watering holes. The owner of Area 51 in Duncan personally drove kids to and from the demo and then skated it—all in the blistering sun. The Island is different and its residents swear by it. A local had mentioned to me: “You guys are nice, but I can’t trust you, you’re from the Mainland.” We never really figured it out, but to them it was our group of Shreddly Sinners who were just a little off.

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Stay tuned to concreteskateboarding.com for tour webisodes.

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