Here is the personal sk8 story of Tim Walker, who started way back in 1978:
guess it must have been near the end of the long, hot summer of 76 when I first became aware of the addictive, compulsive new 'craze'.
My best mate Pete Saxton (show us a handstand Pete!) arrived at my house with two pieces of plywood with mangled roller skates screwed beneath them. Thinking he must have mugged a clown at Butlins, I asked him what they were. "They're skateboards", he said, with a glint in his eye…nothing would ever be the same again.

We went to our local park where the long, sloping paths had just been covered with fresh, smooth tarmac. After several speed-wobble induced grazes, we were hooked. Soon we met other skaters, Mick Cluderay on his Skuda, Kev, Dale, Max, Ed, Sam, Pipkins & a really annoying kid called Nigel, who thought he was the bees knees cos he could tick-tack uphill and spend £70 on the very best board…he was wrong.

By the spring of 77 the world had gone mad. 'Skateboard Area' signs appeared in Peel Park and the footpaths had turned into a teeming mass of self-destructive children. This thing was BIG.
We went to the cinema to see Grease and in the supporting skate flick there was our mate, Ian Convey, our very own Alva look-alike!

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Mick & I had our own claim to fame that year - doing a catamaran on the 'Nationwide' TV show…wow!
Our first attempts at ramps came in the shape of a paved banking in St. Francis' schoolyard. That's where we learned 180's, 360's & even 540's. The fave trick was a lipslide and then with wider trucks came the grind. London may have had Meanwhile Madness; but Bradford had Franny's Fever. Skateparks were poor in West Yorkshire: The Wheel Thing in Shipley, the rough concrete one in Halifax and some dodgy wooden ramps in Leeds Queen's Hall. Travel improved things though, with the mighty Roxyskate near Rotherham and Colne's mega pool. Of course holidays were a bonus if you moaned enough to get Ma & Pa to take you to Kidderminster or Plymouth!
Then, as quickly as it arrived, it was all over. By early 79 there were just four of us left: me, Dale, Kev & Andy Davis. Even the Queensbury Cool Cats and the Skateside-sponsored Team Alpha had disbanded.
We took four buses to get to Colne when we could and skated rickety homemade ramps the rest of the time, but paradoxically that's when we started to get rad. After one of our street ramps was axed to death by an angry neighbour ("My wife's trying to sleep!") we built the legendary pool ramp. With an angle-iron frame, vert plexi-glass on the top, dado rail for coping, painted white, with felt-tip blue tiles, no-one was going to trash this one! It even had supermarket trolley wheels bolted to the back, so we could take it home with us each night…
One by one the skaters 'grew up', however and I grudgingly decided to put my second hand Bones & Trackers in the loft.

My attentions turned to music, but then in the mid 80's I noticed it was 'cool' to skate again…."Mum! Where's my board?" Still having no parks around, I built a gnarly quarter pipe in the basement of Flexible Response recording studios, for whoever wanted to ride and bought a new Variflex. Every weekend me & Gobber, who worked for Ghost Dance, would shred the ramp & chat about Goth bands & then the unthinkable happened! Gobber moved away, the studios closed & I was skateless again.

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