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So, a while back Rich at Lush gave me a shout that there might be a spare signup and room in the Vandem convoy to houyet. I was amazed that the opportunity had come up, but the fact it was an outside chance of happening meant I didnt really believe it would work out.
And then a couple of weeks before the event, it did. Now I was excited. Something so awesome had just turned up out of the blue, and I was determined to make it. Some planning and convincing of parents took place, a tent was bought, and at 2pm on a Friday afternoon I found myself on my way to hook up with the guys at junction 8 on the M25.
We park up and I get a call-Rich.
"At the end of the lane is a carpark, and in the carpark is a motorhome, and inside the motorhome is Pete Connolly."
We found the carpark, motorhome and Pete. Meeting Pete was brilliant and the simplest way to explain why is if you watch this.
I was going Euro-roadtripping with Pete.C. Oh fucking yeah!
So we are sitting around for a while, it begins to rain but eventually the Vandem Van turns up. After some hurried "you alright-ing" and "nice to meet you" handshaking, WE ROLL!
The Vandem motor leaves Borek taking a piss in the bushes and so an amusing chase took place that was finally ended by us picking the refugee up in the Motorhome.
TO DOVER!
I was stoked by this point, the music was going and I struggled to keep a grin off my face for most of the hour's drive. When we rock up to the Ferry all goes smoothly and we board. On the ferry, sitting around took place, discussing various interesting things such as Centre of Gravity, space shuttle booster rocket camera videos and why small Euro coins are so stupid.
The others mostly eat but I'm no fan of the frankly horrendous odour flowing from the canteen area so I pass.
The ferry doesnt sink or crash despite Don and Giovanni being unattended for short periods of time.
We make it to Dunkirk.
I reboard the motorhome and when we find the Vandem on the roads of France or Belgium or wherever the hell we were at the point, the metal begins to pound through the surprisingly powerful speakers and the stoke levels begin to increase once more.
The Vandem requires a short stop to facilitate the relief of the piss heads inside. And then I end up in the Vandem. And then the door is shut.
What words can I possibly use to describe such a beastly vehicle? Certainly none that do its appalling majesty justice. Bottles of gin and Ginger cake, Beer and skate gear, drunken fools (HELLO ROB, HELLO JOHN), The Head dude at Lush Mr Richard Auden at the wheel, and a guy who can footbrake and smash lines on a hill to an obscene degree, Chris Vanstone.
More cross referencing required. Watch this. Tis rad.
Adam Hil had my old place in the motorhome and I thought to myself that he deserved the relative peace after having put up with the tards I now shared the back of the Vandem with for several hours already.
We stop, briefly, at a Belgian garage before making the final trip.
The experience was noisy, scary, horrible and yet amazing. I quickly decided I would not be partaking in the Gin. We roared along the roads, at one point with Bohemian Rhapsody cranked up to full whack. Moderate headbanging ensued.
When it became clear Rich had managed to navigate to Houyet- without looking at a map, a cheer went up and we launched down the hill we would eventually be skating. It seemed much turnier than in the videos....
As we rolled into the campsite, Me and D+G made it over the fence and wandered around greeting all of the European riders. I take a brief expedition onto Aaron and Oli's tent in the middle of the night due to a shove from behind (cheers john ya goon!) and then I get my tent set up in the Vandem Village. I take an early night to the disaproval of others and enjoy a relaxing and peaceful sleep. Roll on saturday!
Except that didnt happen. It was noisy, my tent leaked like a paper bag due to the brutal downpour and I suffered the worst "rest" (but such a term seems inaccurate) I have ever experienced. I was within two hoodies, two coats and a sleeping bag and it meant nothing in the face of the damp. I was freezing and shivered through the night. It was an endurance challenge. It was shit. Furthermore I was awoken by hurried unzipping of the tent directly next to mine, followed by a watery chunder courtesy of Borek. Very close by.
I woke up at 5am and fished some food out of my bag. I emerged from my tent after that and walked around our side of the campsite perhaps 8 times. It was a nice valley we were in, with a river on one side and some hench goods trains thundering past on the other. After several hours the others awoke. We stood around for a long while and I took a walk to formally greet a couple of my Bandito allies. Aaron and Oli spotted me before I them. It was good to see some familiar faces and I couldnt wait to get on the hill. Signup concluded and I went for a skate!
I boarded one of the surprisingly nice uplift buses. Going through the turns my excitement mixed with some tension. It was still very wet.
When we get to the top I climb out, put on my full-face and gloves and stand, waiting for the crowd ahead of me to thin. There were riders speaking all kinds of languages but everybody sounded stoked.
I pushed off onto what would be the longest hill I had ever skated. But it was wet. And there were right hand corners. And this meant there were wet right hand corners. And this meant there were wet toeside corners.
For those 3 wet runs I done plenty of sliding out. I have worked on toeside things so little so it didnt really surprise me. I was passed by everybody in sight and found the hay on one occassion. I couldnt do anything. I wasnt on it and I had very little confidence.
I was able to reflect on this though. I recognised the feeling as similar to the morning of my first ever freeride, Bopeep 2011. Then I had crashed many times and also had no confidence in my riding. But that day turned into something incredible, so I stored away some hope that this day would too.
I think I returned to the campsite then for a long while. But the sun came out. The hill dried up. I went back for round two.
Now that the hill was dry, I felt more at home. It took a few crashes to get used to the new grip since I was still sliding at various points in the course. But I got used to it, and those 3 runs were superb. The first two I was having a laugh, going into corners faster, whacking out footbraking in sketchy areas such as within the "double apex" section, and also giving it a go at the very edge of my ability. I nearly stacked it but crucially- I didnt.
And then, the last run of the day. This made the entire weekend worth it.
I pushed off with Oli and tucked in behind. Oli stood up, and I caught up. He put out his hand and without thinking I grabbed hold. I was then boosted past and bump drafted towards the first corner. It was terrifying and fantastic. I still needed a footbrake into that corner but I kept up through the next section. When we reached the double apex area I recognised that I was going too fast for my toesiding ability and put a slide in. Better than risking it and having a stack on the last run when my confidence was so high.
I navigated the rest of the course grinning all the way down. When I got to the final straight I tucked as hard as I could. My legs began to burn like I had never felt before but I knew I was going the fastest I had ever been and I couldnt stop now. I had to improvise a Dalua-like tuck just to avoid falling over. Eventually, after what was an eternity of endurance and fun I reached the shutdown zone. I was just able to come out of my tuck and somehow put in a coleman.
I was proud and happy to be alive and living the moment with everybody.
Me and the Vandem folks took a trip to the local Pizza place. I ate the best pizza I had ever tasted and once again took an early night citing "I'm absolutely shattered". I was. I slept much better that night due to the tiredness and that Adam had helped me sort out the roof of the tent. It was still damp but I wasnt as cold this time. At some ungodly hour of the morning I was awoken, on this occasion not by a chunder, but by the best speech I had ever heard, by some unknown outside my tent, concerning John and stonehenge. I cant remember the words but I remember it was amazing.
And then the morning. And more rain, sun, rain, sun. I waited around for it to dry properly but Rich suggested I just go for a skate. I agreed and went to the hill.
I entered the uplift bus.
We began to climb the hill.
The heavens opened and it shat it down. Great.
Pushing off into hail I went into the first corner footbraking and distinctly remember muttering "fuck this" within my helmet. The run was joyless and I returned wet and miserable. To quote Vanstone about one of his wet runs that weekend- "I dont want to be on a skateboard with a frown on my face." Too right.
Later on in the day I manage to get one more dry run in. It was good fun and I enjoyed it immensely. And then as I shut down at the bottom the rain once again rolls in to kill the day off. We say our goodbyes and hit the road. That was the end of my first Euro Freeride. The saturday dry runs made it worth it and I had a great weekend with everyone.
Now, some thank you's.
Rich- Thank you for making this happen for me. Cheers for giving me the chance to experience some of the best skating and the best hill I have ever ridden. I still remember the call I made one evening and hearing "so yeah, one of our spare signups is going to our new German team rider, and the other one er.. to you!" This weekend I felt involved, stoked and part of the crew.
Pete- It was rad to go roadtripping with you and you drove immensely throughout. The metal was also immense and it was good to talk skating and gear with a true legend of downhill.
Adam- Thank you for the tent fixing and being patient with my complete lack of initiative and absence of common sense. Much apppreciated!
Vanny- Great to meet you. You talk sense and are obviously bloody quick because I dont remember seeing you at all on the hill! Nice one.
Oli and Aaron- I shall see you very soon indeed!!!! I hope the surprise was surprising.
And now, lastly, Don and Giovanni.
Thank you for the well intentioned abuse. Thank you for the relentless peer pressure. Even though im totally immune to your paticular brand I appreciate the thought. And whoever got the ball rolling on this one, one or both of you, cheers.
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Now what?
So Houyet revealed a few things.
I went to Houyet mainly for the skating. Others went with an equal longing for the getting pissed and pissing about throughout the night part. Thats cool and I respect that, but it isnt me. I have my fun mostly on my board and pushing myself and my limits. Downhill Skateboarding can welcome every kind of attitude. I wont go mad because I want to be on it to skate in the morning. If you want to go mad because thats your thing, fine. As long as everybody has a good time and that thing known as "fun" is partaken in, we win the freeride.
Now as the hours and days have passed since, I am a little gutted I didnt get a chance to really go for it on the hill. If it was good weather I could have got a decent amount of runs. I could have got used to the hill, used to turning right and ditched all of my braking. I could have kept up.
But it has fuelled my fire, Im determined to get out to a hill and shred it. Im going to work to a full Bopeep run with no slides before the corner, film it and make a rad video.
I am on it like never before and I am going to make this year the best year yet for my skating.
And I do not care if nobody cares and I do not care where I get to and I do not care how I skate, I am here to have FUN.
See you on the hill.
Will
