Can You Go A Little Faster?


Everything is so bright. “What is this place I’m in?” I ask myself. Little did I know that I was just born. The day was January 21, 1994 in San Diego California. I lived in California for about four years. I remember the heat and my old home. The grassy front lawn and the large grapefruit tree we had in the back yard. Playing on the hardwood floors and running around the house. I can only remember sheer happiness in this home. My parents Michael a tall athletic black guy, and my mom Tracie a short light skinned native woman were married while we lived in California. After about four years of living in San Diego my parents decided to move south to Arizona which took me on a new path in life.

In 1998, we came to Arizona. We were living with my grandma for a few months. Living with her was kind of weird. Since me, my parents and my sister moved in the house was very cramped. One day my parents were fighting in the living room. There was a lot of yelling. That was the day my parents decided to get a divorce.

Not too soon after this we moved out. We stayed with my mom. We didn’t really have a choice at this point. My sister just started elementary school and I began preschool. I remember the preschool being the worst place ever. Not only did I have emergency room visits but the place was whack. I was forced to eat salad dressing, and I absolutely hated it. I can recall numerous times I told them I hated it but it never really got through their sick minds. In my mind it was a sick mind game they were playing on my poor fragile little mind. I was in preschool salad dressing hell.

My mom’s new home scared me a lot. It was bigger than any other house I lived in. I also began to sleep in my own room which was new. I remember getting into trouble for wiping mud on the garage. I thought this was pretty freaking hilarious. I had a twelve pack of soda and I dropped them. They made a big soda mud swamp on the side of the house. Just for kicks I smushed my little hands into the mess. It was cold, muddy and sticky. I began to try and wipe off the muck with my pants but it didn’t do much. It just looked like I had a Hershey fest on my pants. So I did the only thing I a five year old mind would think of, I began to wipe them on the garage door. When I stepped back to look at the wall, it looked like it was covered in poop (*please note, no matter how old you get poop is still hella funny*). Right then my mom came out,

“Hahaha” I laughed so freaking hard almost choking on the ground.

“What the hell are you doing!” she yelled

“Oh oh nothing” I quickly replied

“Look at the damn garage!”

“It wasn’t me”

“Oh well I guess it was the smear s*** on the garage monster wasn’t it?”

I laughed. That’s when she lost it; she spanked me and cleaned the garage. But it was
well worth it. That was a moment that I can clearly reminisce from my childhood.

In 2003 I moved out of my mom’s house and in with my dad. I was very excited to be moving in with him. He gave me more freedom and let me play all the time. One day I came home from school and he surprised me with a gnarly looking green bike. I took it outside and romped up and down the street. I was so stoked. I have always loved to go fast and I loved excitement. I was truly addicted to going fast.

About two weeks later my dad bought me a jump ramp. “What is this for?” I asked.

He then replied. “You jump off of it on your bike.”

“But how am I supposed to go off of it?”

“Just go down the hill and roll off of it” he said.

“Alright whatever you say” I replied.

Then I was off, it was like I was on an airplane for the first time. I had butterflies in my stomach. Everything was moving so slow. My hair was blowing in the wind, tears formed in the corners of my eyes from all the speed I had. In my mind I was in the air for a million years. The feeling was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I slowly began my summit to the ground. At this point fear started to kick in. Was I going to roll away? Am I going to fall? It was all up to bejeebus at this point. My rubber tires caught the road. I was pretty sure I was going a bazillion miles an hour. I was haulin’ ass, that’s when I pulled on my brakes. The metal of the handle was cold… like ice. My back wheel stopped quickly. I skidded in the street and my back end began to spin. I felt like a g skidding to my stop. At this point I realized I was in love with this feeling. I wanted to do this for forever. I love things that get my adrenaline pumping. My friends and I jumped it all the time. The feeling of going up in the air was tantalizing to me. Every time I went up it felt like everything around me was going slow, then as soon as I touch the surface everything was going fast again. This was an amazing feeling to me and at this point I knew I would be rolling for a long time.

I rode bikes till I was about twelve in the seventh grade. The year was 2005 and this was the year that I found something new. One night my good friend Kevin Dickey, an average sized kid with glasses, braces and a curious mind, was staying the night at my house. We were hanging out in my garage when he found an old generic skateboard in a pile of junk. He asked me “can you Ollie?”

“What’s that?” I asked

“It’s when you pop the board off of the ground, like a hop.”

“No I’ve never tried.” i replied

“Just put your foot on the tail of the board and put your foot right above the middle of it, then pop the back and slide your front foot up towards the nose.”

“Okay I'll give it a try.”

Now when I want to learn something I get fairly determined to reach my goal. At this point my goal was to learn it and do it better than Kevin. I gave it a try, and it didn’t work out too well. I kept doing it until I could do it while moving down my drive way. Hell yea, I did it! I really started to like skateboarding after this. We stayed out in my yard until two in the morning.

I skated all through junior high and its now my freshman year in high school. A lot of people told me that everyone stopped skating once they get to high school. I didn’t want to take any mind to it. I skated everyday that year. There was something missing though. I wasn’t having fun anymore. I always skated alone and the only thing I felt when I skated was frustration. I still kept on truckin’ though. It wasn’t enough though.

It was two days before the last day of that school year. It was early that morning when I walked into the cafeteria. I sat at a table with one of my friends. I didn’t know the people we were sitting with too well so it was kind of weird. They were all watching videos of people riding scooters. It was one of the craziest things I had seen. They were throwing down just as hard as a skateboarder would if not harder. That when they told me that they scooter too. They had planned on going riding the next day after school since it was a half day. I then asked “Can I ride with you guys?”

“Sure man just meet us here after school.” Dylan said.

“Where are we going to go ride?”

“Probably around the mall back to the school.”

“Alright cool. I’ll see you guys after school tomorrow.”

“Alright later.” said Dylan
I was so excited but there was only one problem... I didn’t have a scooter.

I went home that day hell bent on getting a scooter. I persuaded my mom to get me one. We went all over looking for a pro model scooter but all they had was the A1 models at Wal-Mart so I just went for that. I got home and put some new grip tape on it and I was ready for the next day.

The bell rang and we all rushed out of class. We got our scooters and mobbed out of the school in a pack. We hit spots all over. I tried new tricks and immediately had some progression. This was something I could see myself getting really good at. That’s when I chose to stick with the scooter even if we get made fun of and no one truly understands what we do other than us.

Its summer time and we all ride together. We mob in a pack all over. Downtown, all the skate parks and a lot of street riding. With traveling comes new faces. Most of the people I met seemed pretty interested in what I did, but not all people. Some people hate on what I do pretty hard. Most of them talk crap and try to start stuff with my friends and me. Some assume that I won’t stand up for myself. Maybe because they were able to get away with talking crap to little scooter riders, some of us aren’t afraid to fight. After a long time of criticism and confrontation and almost getting stabbed by a bum, I have gained respect around Arizona for what I do and how I do. Not everyone will always understand what I do and why my friends and I do it and there will always be people who hate on what we do but I am not ashamed.

Summer is over and I am beginning my sophomore year of high school. I have now been riding for three months and it’s been the most fun I’ve had riding in a really long time. I have gotten a lot better than from when I first began. The sport was still small and we still would get a hard time from others. I kept my head high.

As the year went on we reached Christmas. This was the time when we all had our eyes set on the new parts that just came out. This is when scooters got more unique and noticed. They were no longer crappy parts and homemade crap, this time we can get some legit stuff. That Christmas we all got our new parts after weeks of begging for them. Since I was able to do my own thing and make it how I wanted I began to develop a style. I call this style steezy romping. I had more confidence in my riding now. My riding is what I made it to be and that’s why I fell in love with scooters. That winter was an eventful one. This was the first time I would attend Woodward West. This was the first time ever in history that Woodward was allowing scooters to use their facilities. Wood Ward West is an action sports camp for skating, BMX, and rollerblading. There are a few placed around the U.S and Beijing. These places are godly riding jamborees.

When we arrived it was like a wonderland. Everything that anyone that rides would ask for. All of the skate parks were sick and everything was so big. We settled in at the camp and un- packed our stuff. We all were hanging out in the cabin. There were three Arizona riders. There was me, Ryan and Jacob. “This place is amazing” Ryan said.

“Hells yea” I replied

“We are going to land some sick stuff here” Jacob said.

“When do you think we can ride?” I asked

“Probably after evaluations” Ryan exclaimed

Then it hit me. OH S***! I completely forgot about evaluations. This is when all of the campers go into the Hanger (this is the largest indoor park at the camp) and we all go one by one for the leaders to assign us to a group to ride with. This made me very nervous.

One by one everyone went. I plotted out a run for my evaluation. Everyone’s run consisted of the same area due to the fact that we have never ridden the park. They were evaluating us on how we reacted to a park for the first time. The time came, it was my turn. I dropped in the large roller and hauled ass over the pyramid box. I quickly looped around the banked turn and back over the box. I was done. It wasn't so bad in the end.

I loved camp. It was the most fun I have ever had. I got to spend time with really good riders and they taught me a lot. This was what helped my progression jump.

A major factor in my riding, determination and my personality has been music. Most of my life has been influenced by music. I began to play music at the age of nine. Ever since then it has been a part of me. I can play seven instruments, the trumpet, guitar, bass guitar, a sick air guitar, drums, piano, bells and the baritone.

The music that I listen to influences me and my riding especially. I tend to be a fairly aggressive rider. I listen to what I call my “Go Hard” mix. This consists of hardcore, heavy, dirty filthy breakdowns, fat beats, sick rhymes and lyrics and stuff that consist to my mind.

This is the s*** that fuels me. When a certain song comes on I ride to the flow or rhythm of the song. So if I’m going for something I would listen to something that pushes me and gets my adrenaline pumping. If I was just flowing ( this is when you ride smoothly around the park casually) a park I would listen to something that is smooth and relative to what I’m doing.

Since Woodward I’ve rode every day. It’s now near the end of my junior year in high school. I have accomplished a lot in scootering now. My riding has made me who I am. I film and make videos. I ride all over Arizona and have gotten to know a lot of other riders. I love to ride more than anything in the world. People still talk crap about me and my friends riding scooters but we let our riding do our talking for us. I am proud to ride scooters and I plan on making a name for myself.

The majority of my life has been on wheels. I’m proud of what I do and what I have accomplished so far in life. Though my eyes the world is my playground. I think that if everyone saw the world like this it would be a better place. The fact that my riding has also kept me out of a lot of trouble is great, I feel blessed because without this who knows where I would be right now? Besides what’s my life if I’m not on wheels? Who would I be if I wasn’t Gerren the kid who rides scooters? I can’t see or even imagine myself without riding. Right now this is my life and I’m going to roll with this as long as I can.
“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”- Dr. Seuss