Yeehaw!

Back in the day, you didn’t buy a pro-made brand-name fly ramp from a big box store – you dragged whatever scrap material you could scrounge up out to the street and went to work. This meant that sometimes the big wipeout of the day was just from the ramp falling apart as one of the first riders made contact with it. We all knew it would happen to someone, but were still just fucking sent it. Yeehaw!

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