As you probably don’t know, Mark, my co-star from the previous ‘Hauntings‘ has moved on to different things.  Seeing as how there will be no more adventures I thought it only appropriate to post the final chapter here.. and now.

Waking up in the middle of a panic situation is never fun.  It was the middle of the night somewhere in Utah, we were heading back home to LA from the last leg of winter trade shows.  I had dosed off just long enough to wake up to Marks concerned tone.. “Dude we are fucked”.

About 15 minutes prior Mark had asked me If I noticed that the head lights had been dimming.

“Not really” I said….not really.

As the cars electrical system slowly died, we prayed that the car would live long enough to take us to the next city about 16 miles ahead. My GPS said we made it a solid 9 before I asked Mark about the brakes.

“Do they work?”

“I’m not sure..haven’t tried them in a while.”  Mark replied.  Comforting.

The interior electronics fluttered, the speakers made the sound of a heart beat before dying, over and over again.  It was as if you put a microphone up to a dying mans last heartbeats just before giving him the paddles… then letting him die again.

It was cold, the heater had gone out and we could see our breath inside the car.  Still dazed and half asleep, I frantically google nearby tow trucks.  The nearest town is still a solid 20 minutes away, it was 1:30 am.

I finally got a tow truck company to answer…

“Eh… i would say just ride it out as long as you can… then call back” said the helpful man.

Are you shitting me?  It was pitch black outside and neither Mark nor myself were equipped to battle hoards of mutant inbred hillbillies.  Shortly after i hung up with the man the car drifts to a stop, all the lights are dead.  It’s times like these I regret not owning a hand gun.

Staring out the window into the dark frozen tundra, I realized that this is the exact situation my mother warned me about.. This is her worst nightmare. It’s pitch black outside and the only other thing on the road were the occasional 18 wheelers shooting by us at the speed of sound. We’ve still got the Airstream hitched up which is acting as a wind sale, the car jolts violently as each semi passes.

How the FUCK did this happen again? What are the odds of this? Last time we joked around saying..  “Well, at least it didn’t break down in the middle of nowhere.”

It was just going too smoothly I suppose.

“I predicted this…” mark whispered under his breath.

The Hazard Lights, our last beacon of hope, fluttered violently… A few last slivers of light pop out with each click of the signal. And then it was dead…

Everything in Denver went fine.  Hotel was great, the show was fantastic… the second we entered Utah, shit went haywire.  I’m burdened with a good imagination.  I keep staring out into the pitch black field to the right, waiting to see:

A pack of wolves

A serial killer with a hook for a hand

A family of redneck homicidal maniacs that want to turn us into lampshades

An Alien

The woman hitchhikers naked ghost

After i promised the man that we were in fact stranded, he agreed to send us a tow truck.  We’d been sitting out in the cold for 41 minutes… The tow truck crept up in front of us.  A bit nervous about the penis head on the phone, i anticipated a 9 foot tall Bluto in overalls wielding a shotgun… Instead, it was the spitting image of Chris Farley who jumped out of the drivers seat.  The giant man leapt carelessly from the tow truck, damn near into an oncoming semi.

In the end we were saved, and made it home safely.  Not before listening to Chris Farley’s horror stories of dead bodies on the highway, and our wonderful night in the shady back road motel that followed (lobby pictured above).

(The middle of nowhere, the next morning)

Though Mark is gone (not dead, just gone from here) our adventures will live on.  Stay tuned for more episodes with the new guy.

Kisses, OT.

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Photo: Stewart Medford

What motivates people to get out of bed and go to work? Is it the alarm, the paycheck or the habit of experiencing the day-to-day act itself? Understanding that sleeping through one’s alarm will put undue work square on the shoulders of one’s co-workers - ‘co’ being peers that one can empathize with -causes a drive in us, compelling enough to convince some lackadaisical louts to fulfill their obligations and in one way or another work through hungover or hesitant bodies with we: the thankful co-workers of the world.

I work in the terrain park on Whistler Blackcomb,so my motivation to get out of bed is quite often to get the trick I’ve been working on, to plane through the powder that had been pad-padding throughout the cold cold night – blanketing my commute to the park entrance – or simply, selfishly, to get that morning coffee in my handfor the rolling chairlift trip that I’ll ride while rubbing the crust from my eye’s outer rim.

Either way, it occurred to me one day when I wokeup cursing my alarm clock that perhaps if the company that so gratefully employed me, as wellas – theoretically – all companies instituted ‘flex times’ like an honor system, that allowed their employees to come in to work between, say: 8:30 and 10:30: whenever their bodies felt most appropriate – rather than making them feel that they were being dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn against their will – there really wouldn’t be much taking advantage of this experimental system; we wouldn’t see an over-excess of workers showing up at 10:29 each day, especially within the union of terrain park employees like yours truly, who have an appreciation for contribution to a team, enjoy shaping and skiing their personalized snow sculptures and of course, don’t hate the paycheck that comes along with getting up those few extra hours earlier.

On another note…

The link below is a one minute edit from a lap or two that was filmed during the off days in my office by Nevin Falloon.  It was tossed together with the deadline of one day: intended as a last minute contribution, a ‘commercial’ for the Golden Film Festival in Golden B.C. Thought I’d share! Check out the Yowie!

Click the link to watch on Vimeo

Thanks Outdoor Tech, Liberty Skis, TMC Freeriderz, Surefoot, Crossfire Designs and Trew Outerwear.

Ben Wannamaker

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Below is our spot, read the full review HERE  

Outdoor Technology Bluetooth Tags
It’s hard to find stereo Bluetooth headphones that are comfortable, provide a good audio seal to shut out ambient noise, and are attractively compact. That’s why the Bluetooth Tags from Outdoor Technology are a real gem. Made to hang around the neck like a pair of military dog tags when not in use, this gadget connects to phones without a tangle-prone wired connection. A built-in mic and physical controls lets you avoid fumbling for your handset to answer calls, and the Tags also come with plastic clips for securely attaching to ears. Read the full review of the OT Bluetooth Tags.

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Most people that you talk to look at professional athletes and think, man they got the life.  Travel all over the world, just doing what you love, what an easy life.  Now I’m not saying that isn’t exactly the case.  I get to go ski and see amazing places all over the world, and that indeed is pretty awesome.  Even as a teenager looking up to pro skiers and thought the same thing,  but you never really comprehend what the athletes go through year to year.

This year for me has been tough.  The winter started off by an amazing trip to Japan. Great snow, amazing people, and of course the food is always a highlight being over there, but the list of injuries this season seem to have started off there.  While carrying a 70lbs backpack filled with flash and camera gear I got pulled off a large drop and hurt my knee.  3 days later after my knee started feeling better I re-injured the same knee which plagued me for the rest of the trip.  As an athlete its so frustrating to not be 100%.  Imagine going to work everyday and only being able to do it at 60%, not exactly the best recipe for success. After Japan I took some time to get my knee strong and headed north to British Columbia to start filming with Voleurz.  After a few weeks of being there, and only getting to film a few days I was hitting a jump and went a little to large and severely sprained my left ankle.  When I came to a stop I was in so much pain I couldn’t even stand up.  I limped over to one of the sleds and sat there shaking in pain.  I ended up filming the rest of the day and just tried to fight through the pain.  After one more day of trying to film the pain was too great and had to take the next 8-9 days off just to get back to being able to get my foot and ankle into my ski boot.  Finally back to where I can ski, only about 75% but still good enough to shoot and start filming.  Only a few days after finally feeling strong again, I’m back in Mt Baker shooting and decided to ski a line that I have been looking at for a few years now. Widowmaker.  It’s a 2 hour boot pack to the top of the peak, followed by a multi pitch rappel to get into the 50 degree line filled with spines.  As I got in and took my first few turns the snow quickly turned to ice and I began rag dolling down almost the entire face before I self arrested.  Mid fall I felt myself cartwheeling through ice chunks, at one point I was sure that I snapped my right arm, and or dislocated my shoulder.  As I slid to a stop the pain in my shoulder and knee quickly took over.  However I did hike back up get my ski and ski the line I had just fallen on.  After the adrenaline wore off the pain really started to sink in.  Sitting here as I write this, my knee resembles some sort of large fruit.  ACL test showed my knee is intact but I have massive swelling and can only bend my knee to 90 degrees.

Seems like just as soon as you get healthy enough to get back out there something else pops up, wether it be a nagging injury or a new one.  The most frustrating part is not being able to ski, or in some cases not being able to ski 100%.  Not exactly something I had imagined when I dreamed about becoming a professional athlete.  They never showed this in the movies, but then again when I’m headed up to the top of a line at sunrise, surrounded by mountain peaks as far as you can see and perfect snow, I think about people that aren’t able to do this so what am I complaining about?

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In the bathroom Mark nervously fixes his hair in the mirror.  “Are we really here man?”  Yes I say; I have a weird calm, probably brought on by the whiskey.  Here is an Inn above the Black Jack’s Saloon in Trinidad Colorado.  The ‘Inn’ was a perfectly preserved whorehouse from the 1920′s.  The whole building was empty, just Mark and I.

That night the whole town felt empty, Trinidad is a ghost town in many ways and apparently the state’s transvestite capital.   We were heading back from a tradeshow in Denver, but we were stranded… it was the middle of the winter and the road conditions were treacherous.

We’d just got back from a movie, a block away.  The theatre was something like 120 years old.  The woman at the liquor store told me about it, she said the 3^rd floor balcony is where black people were forced to stand back in the day.  No benches.  When we got in, asked if we could sit in the balcony, the keeper of the place said he’d turn a blind eye if we headed up to the second floor.  Mark and I stumbled up the stairs, drunk.

The second we get up to the balcony, Mark begins laughing and talking about the other people in the theatre at full volume.  I was both appalled and excited.  Here we were at this historic theater, preserved fairly perfectly from the early 1900’s.  The man did us a favor and let us sneak up to the blocked off section.  Yet to my right, there is a 35 year old man, giggling like a school girl.  Directly above us was the oppressive 3rd floor, seatless viewing area.   Looking up at the balcony above, I kinda felt like that was technically the best view of the screen.  We never tried to get up there, the woman at the liquor store told me it was borded up anyway.

(Not the actual theatre… this one’s in New York i think, but imagine this but darker and more run down.. and scarier.. and with a pitch black 3rd floor balcony)

As I was sitting, staring at the ominous balcony above.. Mark appears next to me out of  breath.  I didn’t even realize he left…   “You’ve got to go check out this door man!”  He’s pointing at the right hand side of the balcony, which stretched an entire floor.  In any other theatre, it would have been your emergency exit.  This door lead to  nothing technically.  All we could see was a large silver column, something like an air vent but much wider.  To the right of the column was an unfinished interior wall.  The old kind, with thin horizontal running boards and gray cement colored material seeping through.   That wall is irrelevant though, the other wall was about a foot away from the column, and lead to a dark dark scary as f-k room.  It looked like the basement of the room in the Blair Witch Project-where the 2^nd to last guy alive is standing in the corner and then the camra falls with the chick screaming…. The end.   Mark looks back at me with his showalteran* drunk face..  “Let’s go in there man”  I agree, but there’s no f-ing chance in hell I’m going in first.

When I was 9ish or something, I saw a ghost in my kitchen.  My brother and I used to sleep down there so we could watch TV.  It was deep in the night, late enough for the cable tv colored bars to come on because they literally have nothing else to show for a while.  I don’t think that happens any more.  Anyways I awoke to the beeping ‘no signal’ sound, look up and see a male looking figure standing by the TV against the wall.  He has the build of a man, but is completely gray.  His head was turned towards me, but there was no face.

If you want to split people up into 2 groups, there’s one type of person that would walk up to that thing and reach up to touch it.  That type of “person” is a movie character, and that would only happen to advance the plot forward.  The rest of the actual people world would probably shit their pants.

So we’re in this theatre, both of us pretty liquored up.  Mark had just looked over at me and said “Let’s go in there”.  “Ok, f-k it” I said.  Looking at me ecstatic, mark says OK, you go in first and I’ll trail you.  It felt like a Saturday morning cartoon.  Scooby Doo esque perhaps.  We both chickened out and returned to our seats, nervously awaiting our return to Black Jack’s Saloon.

Back at the Hotel – I wrote this next part while i was drunk, and decided to leave it the way it is… grammatical errors and all.. i feel like it’s a more honest depiction.

____________________

This hallway has got to be the scariest place I’ve ever been.  No chance in hell I would set foot in this place if I was not shitfaceed.  fortunately, I DIDN’T TINK AOBU THE LOGITICS UNTIL I WAS HERE, STAIRING DOWN THE HALWYA IN THE MOVIE THE SHINGING.  iT’S DIFFEREN’T when you’re here.  Ther’es no way film can capture the sheer terror in being alone in a dark, haunted hallway.

____________________

There were names for the Whores on each room, as we walked down the hall alone we read them each.. both terrified, but both trying to screw with the other so we’d think neither wa scared.

The name plates on the doors were molded bronze.  They read Brandy… Rose… Grace…. We kept walking to the room we were assigned to share.  Joe.  The name on the door said Joe… What the f does that mean?  Were we in the gay sex room?

Rose

Brandy….Joe

Did you hear that?  Mark takes a pull of whiskey.  We’ve been sitting in our room above Black Jacks Saloon for about 10 minutes.  As I type this we hear what sounds like a trunk rolling over outside our room in the distance.  “Did you hear that!!??” Mark has let down his guard by this point, he’s very clearly terrified.   I’d been holding up until the very second I finished that last sentence.  The toilet just made a flushing noise on it’s own… and I just hear the trunk noise again outside.   Stay calm.

We both heard a tap on the wall.  It sounded like someone threw a stone at the wall… bigger than a pebble, but smaller than a rock.  Immediately followed by the sound of someone walking their fingernails against the wall on the other side of the room.

This happened repeatedly throughout the night.  In the end, nothing more than that really happened as it turns out.  I kept drinking Whiskey till I passed out.  The last odd thing was that i’d made the strategic move to sleep with my shoes on, in case i needed to make getaway for any reason.  I tied them tight, but awoke in the morning with one shoe off and on my chest.  Mark swore it wasn’t him.

To be concluded.

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Featured above:  OT Athlete Michael-Frosti-Zernow

Now, you maybe thinking “Hey man, that’s pretty f-ing superficial” and I’d agree.  It’s also missing the point of the entire practice of Parkour.  But that’s not what this article is about right now, so shut it.  Plus if you’re telling me that this isn’t an image based industry, then I’d tell you to check your facts kid, and brush your teeth.. your breath stinks.  Really I just don’t want Parkour to go the way of Rollerblading (RIP).

Featured above:  OT Athlete Daniel-Knox-Manino

So I’ve decided that Parkour is in fact awesome, but it’s name and the way it’s been shown has earned it a negative connotation.  Much like our efforts with our Bluetooth Tags.  We saw an opportunity in a very valid product with limitless potential that just hasn’t been done right yet.

On a somewhat related side note, I’m a bit taken back lately to find the amount of judgment and hatred between sports in the “Action” sports community.  Skiers are gay blah blah blah.. I understand a good rivalry but it’s important to realize that at their core, all athletes in the action sports community share a similar passion for testing the limits, both their own and each others… so grow up and quit bitchin.

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1/7/12 – 12:25pm

It’s happened again, the house is haunted.  It seems to be a trend that when Mark (our Director of Sales) and I are on the road, we end up in some sort of terrifying situation.  Below is an up to date recount of our current stay in SLC Utah, i’ll release the prequel ”Black Jack’s Saloon” in the near future…

“It’s the fan belt I think”  Mark yells, as we reach te edge of a massive down hill street, near the house we’re renting in SLC Utah.  Consider our predicament, we’re on our way to the Salt Palace Convention Center, we have 1 hour to drop off our iconic ’66 Airsteam trailer; which has become a staple of the brand at this point.  It becomes abundantly clear that the car is done, it takes us about 30 seconds before we fully comprehend how F’d we are.

‘The house did this to us’ I think, as we summit the hill and begin to drift downward, the whole car vibrates as what sounds like a steel bike chain spins around inside the transmission.

We’d just left the house.  As soon as we opened the door we looked at each other and understood the situation.  The house is haunted.  It was old.. Adorned in mid 20′s statues of babys and women doing chores.  The living room houses an organ and a grand piano.  Its bright inside but it feels dark.  It’s the type of place that puts off a vibe you can feel as you walk through the room.

We cautiously inch around the house examining each room.  The basement contains only books and 1 recliner, sitting alone in the middle of the room facing the stairs.  Mark goes to the bathroom and leaves me alone in this daytime nightmare. I muster up all of my courage and creep upstairs.  More old books.

I take each step slowly, listening intently to my surroundings.  I reach the top stair where I see 3 shut doors.  I pause and stare at them just long enough for the middle door to jolt, loud.  At this point I nearly shit myself.  I’m frozen, I have to know more.  I slowly crouch to look under the door as a big gust of wind exits the crack an blows the carpet off the floor.

The window was open,  In the middle of January.  Curtains blowing ferociously in the wind.

My fear is that this is only the beginning.  Below is a photo I shot while sitting in the living room.  He’s looking at me.

1/8/12 – 10:30 am

I experienced pure terror today.  I don’t know that i’ve ever felt that before.  I now know that my fight or flight response is some horrible mixture of the two.

Mark left me alone in the house this morning, he had to run some errands and seemed delighted in the fact that he was leaving me there by myself.  I wasn’t sure what to do, there was no chance in hell i was just going to sit there alone all day so i decided to take the fastest shower imaginable and head out on my own adventure.

Mark was gone, I feigned courage as i crept up the stairs once more.. i’d been sleeping on the couch in the living room for fear of the 3rd floor.  I gathered my things so i could pop out of the shower and immediately get dressed and run out the door.  I stepped into the shower but had to leave the curtain open… the idea of not being able to see what may or may not be on the other side was too much for me to handle.  Freezing, I stepped out of the shower.  I was furiously applying my hair Fiber when the DOOR SLAMMED OPEN BY ITSELF.

Now for the fight/ flight response:

Propping my arms up in old fashioned boxing form, and jumping around backwards, panting, naked in the bathroom.  ”What?  What do you want?!”  i scream at the empty hallway..  no response…  ”I hate you, i hate you.. no i love you i mean… i love you”  i whisper under my breath.  I decided that you don’t want to tell the ghost you hate it, that will only make things worse…

To be continued..

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Regardless, the first thing i noticed at the show was how clean the bathrooms were. This is not common, especially during setup time.  I’ve been to quite a few trade shows in my day; during booth setup the bathrooms are generally left totally unattended.  As i’m sure you can imagine, by the time your booth is looking good, the bathroom looks like a truck stop massacre.

It’s definitely a cool scene, I was not disappointed on day one.  If you’re in the Long Beach area, you should definitely make it a point to come down and check out the show.

We’ll post some more about what OT’s debuting at the show for Agenda Recap Day 2.

Dates and Address are below:

agendashow.com

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Here’s a quick excerpt, but check out the full review at kdayracing.com

“Hav­ing used them nearly every day now for about three weeks, I’ve pretty much sold every­one in the office on a pair. The con­ve­nience alone is worth it to me. Also, in years past, I’ve used SDAY’S Mac­book pro to watch videos while ped­al­ing away on the rollers. It’s a pretty good sys­tem that I can set up just about any­where, but I’ve never been able to fully hear the audio… until now. The DJ Slims are per­fect for a lit­tle trainer time. At 103 grams, they’re light enough to wear for a few hours with lit­tle or no adjustment.”

-KDAY Racing

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