Morwell and Old Mates

My Grandfather once said to me if you can count your good mates one one hand you are a very fortunate man.

I met Tim by chance at a piece of discarded building equipment that formed a U pipe. It was behind a Tafe in Tamworth. Two kids at twelve trying to figure our skateboarding and life, in a town where we knew we didn’t fit in at all. We were absolutely fine with that. We have seen each other grow from boys to slightly less mature men. Shared successes and failures. Seen each other at our best or floundering on struggle street.

It was our first session of many, and twenty six years later we can catch up for a laugh and a beer as though no time has passed at all. Our crew is real solid and we take in ring ins with a recommendation. Hand that man a beer and yell at him until he does more stuff. It’s like a bikie gang without the cowardice and posturing, and cooler transportation devices.



So we headed to Morwell to hit up their new park and soak in their permanent coal fire. It was pretty crowded with scooter children and gronks, so we sent Ducky in to clear the joint out. Timeless 5-0


Cunnaz reverted his


And went a bit silly on the weird hip


Bristol ollie up to truck bash


Seany did skidz


I did a back 5-0 to Tail. Tom P photo


Tim got some with an Ollie into the bank


Tom P had to battle for this one. We wouldn’t let him leave


We found the best truck stop burgers and the shittiest of waxy bowls at Taralgon. I slammed first up and was done with the dick bowl.

Tom had some moves before we bailed. The bench copped a workout with stories.



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