THE HAND OF MA // 11.2
Saturday Night at Hastings Beach
Words by Stepan Soroka
Photos by Jeff Thorburn
The locals at Hastings skatepark call our bowl “Ma.” Ma will be sweet to you, but if she catches you slipping, she will swiftly dole out the appropriate punishment. For every grind and air that gets put down on her aging, paint-layered concrete, there is a hipper, swellbow, or fracture lying in wait.
All it takes is a little overconfidence to find yourself crumpled in the flatbottom, humbled and hopefully not destined for the ER. Even the best of the best get served up by Ma’s loose, imperfect transitions. From traveling pros at the top of their game to random lurkers ignited by unearned bravery—bones, blood, teeth and skin are sacrificed to the skate gods on the regular under the gaze of Ma’s watchful eye.
But when you calibrate your mind, body, and spirit correctly, Ma will serve you the sweetest victories, with a cold brew, char-grilled burgers and high-fives upon high-fives awaiting you on the deck.
There are no gimmes at Ma, whether from the concrete or from the locals. Some of the folks skating her have been there since she opened in 2001, and they could care less about your flood pants or your Instagram followers.
That being said, if you are there to skate and to keep a cool head, you will be welcomed into one of Canada’s most vibrant, long-lasting and fuckin’ raw skateboard scenes. (Bringing a case of beer and some meat for the grill is an appreciated and proven hack for those not sure about how to approach it.) Just make sure that Joyce gets the empties, and be ready to grind out before leaving. See you at the Beach!
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