A sprained wrist, a hole in my pants, and a bruise on my thigh (that I had nicknamed “Kotellet ál Fredo”) were all proof that I had not abandoned ship quickly enough. Yet, this mishap was a blessing in disguise; directly in front of me was the village Haltern at the Sea. This village was home to Rudi, an enthusiastic skater and an exceptionally gifted welder. Without a recognizable reaction, he looked me over and examined my wounds. Just the sight of my broken trailer left him wincing. He didn’t offer me a band-aid, or even tape. His exact words were: “Give that to me, I’ll weld it!” and two minutes later my trailer was as good as new.
In Münster I met the German Lord of the boards: Titus; the man who brought the board to Germany and the founder of German skate culture himself. He was as excited about my idea as I was: simply to jump over Titus himself. One attempt and the photo was in the bag. Titus, who had even majored in skating, only had this to say about the jump: “That’ll do. Did the photo at least turn out?”