October 1st, 2020.

More and more, I’ve come to really appreciate skating in my neighbourhood on little errand runs, on the sidewalks and roads within a few blocks of my home that I’ve ridden down more times than anyone, ever, probably. The little cracks I know to bonk over or dodge, the curbs I hop up and down, the bump I snap off when I’m feeling it, the rough patches where I do the push-and-just-keep-gliding-over-this-one-footed-until-it’s-over move. Those little runs are the best.

I chuckled in amazement when I made the calculation that I’ve skated mine literally thousands of times. Make the calculations of yours and you’ll be amazed as well. I’ve had great downhill rides every time, no matter my mood, no matter my direction. On the way home, the one flat and smooth half block that breaks up the last two uphill blocks is an appreciated respite before the final climb toward the summit and home.

I’ve ridden these runs with a backpack full of camera gear, bags of Vancouver Public Library books, boxes for donation, boxes to be shipped, boxes I’ve received, books going to and from the Little Free Library, flowers and skateboard parts from Antisocial, skateboards for donation through the East Van Skate Club, bikes with flat tires towed along on my backside edge, pizza boxes, burritos from Budgies, and always more groceries than I intended to buy. On those grocery runs, that final stretch of flat is still appreciated, but this time in a more hurried manner, powered through with a get-me-the-fuck-home-why-did-I-buy-so-much-heavy-stuff push.

Here’s to the runs that are right outside your door, wherever they lead you.—Jeff Thorburn