Bedtime story

Many years ago, aeons in skating terms, there was an abandoned school on top of the tallest hill in Gwinnett. It had a four stair with hand rails, and the handrails had thick caps on the end. It was only skateable if you crushed some coke cans on the lip of the cap, so the board could slam over it. Legend was, they had never been grinded, on account of the caps. The landing was into the road. Next to it was a very chunky ancient cement ledge, that someone had optimistically waxed, and next to that was a 7 stair to nowhere in particular, with a short run up, also landing into the road. I also forgot about the bank: there was a bank so shitty that it was really not mentioning, especially to Taipeinese skaters. It had a huge crack that you had to pop over at its base, and a wavy surface so rough that it was like skating on gravel that someone had poured some Bondo onto and sprinkled with sand. It took about ten tries to even find your balance on it, and then, if you fell, it was like falling onto a cheese grater covered in sandpaper, with the added bonus that your board would shoot immediately into traffic. 

The school and the four stair and the rails are gone, but the rest is still there. Concerned citizens still stop to tell me to get out of the road, wear a helmet, get a car, and to ask for directions to the probation office down the street. It's like the old days, but I'm skating it alone. That's OK though. I've been dreaming about this spot from the other side of the world.