Old School BMX freestyle, art and creative stuff, the future and economics, and anything else I find interesting...
Saturday, May 3, 2025
That time I edited a snowboard video in 1990...
Friday, December 8, 2023
Skater's Quarterly Video Magazine #2- A skate video I edited in 1990 that you never heard of
Friday, May 8, 2020
It was 30 years ago today...Meeting Keith Treanor and John Povah
OK, it wasn't exactly 30 years ago today, but pretty close. It was just about this time, late April or early May, of 1990, when I rode up to the Oceanview flyout jump in Huntington Beach. It was early evening, maybe an hour before sunset. You can see the Oceanview segment in the The Ultimate Weekend, above at 23:22. There were a couple of guys there that I didn't know. Those guys turned out to be recent New Jersey transplant Keith Treanor, and English vert rider who moved to SoCal, John Povah.
I'd lived in Huntington Beach, California for three years then. Bob Morales brought me to H.B. to edit the AFA newsletter in January 1987, and got me into video work, kind of by accident. That led to a job at Unreel Productions, the Vision Skateboards/Vision Street Wear's video company. Being socially retarded, and not having a girlfriend most of the time, I spent my evenings hitting street riding spots, or doing a little flatland by the Taco Bell at Bolsa Chica and Heil. I spent weekends doing flatland for the crowds at the H.B. Pier, hanging with Mike Sarrail, and freestyle skaters Pierre Andre', Don Brown, Hans Lingren, Jeremy Ramey, and whomever showed up.
The Oceanview jump, located at Oceanview High School, on the corner of Warner and Gothard, was the perfect freestyler's jump. A long, concrete sidewalk led up to a 6 1/2 high flyout jump, under a huge tree. At that time, jumping contests were just becoming a thing, mostly held at BMX races. Chris Moeller was about the craziest jumper of that time period, and he had just taken over his little garage bike company, S&M Bicycles, from co-founding partner, Greg Scott. Greg was the "S" and Chris was the "M," their last initials. They had different ideas on how to run the company, and Chris went solo with it in 1989, I think. Chris changed the name to S&M Bikes, and worked like a mad dog to sell BMX bikes actually made for dirt jumpers.
The S&M guys, like Chris, Dave Clymer, and John Paul Rogers, summed up racer jumping at that time. Tricks like X-ups, nac-nacs, no footers, no handers, and 360's over big (for the time period) doubles were what the serious racers that jumped were doing. But the freestylers, like myself, were still partial to flyout jumps. Ride up to the jump slower than the racers did when hitting doubles, get some hang time, and try to weirder tricks, like a one-hand 360, or maybe a tailwhip (which hadn't been pulled on dirt then) or even a decade attempt. There was still a big chasm between pro BMX racer jumping, and freestyler jumping. Over the next few years, the styles blended, as dirt and street comps progressed during the ramen days long recession of the early 1990's. Racer jumpers started trying crazier tricks, and freestylers learned how to pedal. Then the next generation, like th eSheep Hills Locals in the H.B. area, rose up as dirt jumpers. Most didn't race much, and rarely, if ever, did flatland freestyle, just street and dirt.
I think my first reaction to Keith jumping at Oceanview was something like "Holy FUCK!" Nobody, no-fucking-body, even came close to getting as high off of this jump as Keith Treanor did. It's not an accident that a high contrast shot of Keith jumping over John's uplifted hand was on the box of The Ultimate Weekend video. Keith is 9 or 10 feet off flat ground in the Mike Sarrail photo I used for the video cover. I personally saw Keith get a full two feet higher than that once or twice, but not when I had video running.
John Povah was no slouch either. He was a solid vert rider from England, who moved over here a year or so earlier, I think. He was riding street and some dirt then, and hitting backyard ramps, when possible.
We had a good session that day I first saw Keith and John, and in typical BMXer fashion then, I had no idea what their names were when I rolled away. I'd been shooting a little bit of footage on my RCA S-VHS- camera on the weekends, and I was thinking about trying to produce my own freestyle video. Unreel Productions had been dissolved a few months earlier, in January 1990. All of the main people were let go, and I was moved to the Vision Skateboards/Vision Street Wear main offices in Santa Ana. I worked cheap, compared to the rest, and knew how to work most of the equipment. That's why they kept me.
At Vision, I sat in a room all day, alone, and got called to shoot some video every week or so. I got a good check for doing nothing, which is a dream job for many people. But it was driving me crazy. I wanted to produce my own video, to show BMX freestyle as I saw it. The Vision videos, like Freestylin' Fanatics, were goofy, the footage was old, and I pretty much hated it. Fanatics was cool because it gave some props to a bunch of younger riders, but it didn't show what riding was really about in my opinion, and missed the rapid progression happening in riding then.
Eddie Roman made Aggroman a year earlier, which I saw as a funny, goofy, movie-made-on-video of freestyle. Us riders didn't make freestyle videos then, just companies like GT or BMX Plus! made freestyle videos then. I wanted to create my own take on riding. I wasn't actually sure I could even produce a video from start to finish. The idea scared the hell out of me. But around the time I met Keith and John, I was getting pretty serious about the idea.
I saw them again at Oceanview a few days later, we had another session, and I think that's when I got their names and numbers, and started calling them to go session and shoot footage for this video I wanted to make. And that turned into a few months of taking my big video camera, using full size S-VHS tapes, around to our sessions, and hitting a bunch of places we may not have normally.
In October of 1990, I rented a video editing system for $25 an our, located in the back of a video shop. I spent 40 hours, $1,000 out of my pocket, to edit The Ultimate Weekend. The whole video producing process cost me $5,000 of my own money. OK, a grand was borrowed from Mike Sarrail, and then paid back. That's what making a self-produced video cost in 1990. I made about $2,500 back, selling VHS tapes through a surf video distributor. I lost my ass, then lived off my credit cards for a while, when I was working freelance. Why did I did I live off my credit cards? Because I was only working part of the time, and because I was 24 years old, and I was an idiot. I lost money on The Ultimate Weekend, but I'm stoked I made it. I had a crazy idea, I gave it a shot, and I finished a big project, something I really struggled with then.
This year is the 30th anniversary of The Ultimate Weekend, my first totally self-produced video. Over the next few months, I'm going to do a series of posts about making that video. I really wanted to make a sequel ten years ago, for the 20th anniversary. But I was broke in North Carolina, and it just was not going to happen. I wanted to make a 30th anniversary sequel this year, and... well, we'll see. Maybe it'll happen. Either way, I'll tell some of the stories of the making of this video, as I wind down this blog, and start up my next main blog... Stay tuned.
I have a new blog about BMX, skateboard, and action sports spots, check it out:
Sunday, October 20, 2019
Session at Martin Aparijo's ramp in 1990
At 29:08 in this video, you see a couple of guys in front of a garage playing "Dueling Banjos" on a banjo and a guitar. The guy on the banjo is early skatepark rider, Steve "Bio Air" Bennett, who I'd never met before. This was around the corner from Martin Aparijo's quarterpipe, which Keith Treanor, John Povah, and I went to for a session, in the late summer of 1990. This blog post is about that session on Martin's quarterpipe, starting with the "Dueling banjos."
This section, our session at Martin Aparijo's quaterpipe, happened in the late summer or early fall of 1990. Keith Treanor, John Povah, and me headed to Martin's house, to join an afternoon session on his quarterpipe. The riders there that day were Jess Dyrenforth (turquoise shorts, black knee pads), John Povah (no shirt, white cap), Keith Treanor (white T-shirt, black shin guards), Steve "Bio Air" Bennett (yellow tank top- old ASPA shirt- and neon green bike), Martin Aparijo (white helmet), and Todd Anderson (light blue tank top, black cap). So there was some serious talent there that afternoon. This whole session happened because I think a ran into Martin somewhere, told him I'd been shooting footage to make my own video, which was a really weird thing to do then. Eddie Roman had put out Aggroman a year earlier, and Mark Eaton was making the first Dorkin' in York videos with two VHS machines. No one took those very serious then. Just riders goofing around with vieo cameras. Only big companies like GT, Haro, or BMX Plus, and Vision Street Wear put out "real" BMX videos back then. That was the mindset.
The context for this video was that it was shot and put out in 1990, during a big transition time for BMX freestyle. At the big bike industry trade show in early 1989, industry people were walking around, all weekend, saying "BMX is dead, mountain bikes are the new thing." So every major company was getting rid of their BMX and freestyle programs, and putting their effort into the rising trend of mountain bikes, which was really just getting going in the mainstream then. GT and Haro kept their factory teams, though they paired them down and let some riders go. So over the course of 1989, most of the sponsorship money in BMX freestyle just disappeared. So did a huge number of BMX freestyle riders. From a logical way of thinking, it was time to quit.
It was like, OK we got into this weird little sport in 1984-86, most of us, we saw it grow through the AFA flatland and ramp days. We had a good time, it was cool, and by 1990 we were in our 20's. It made sense to give up "that BMX thing," go to college, go get a real job, and move on to the life all the people around us wanted us to live. But for a few hundred of us, BMX freestyle had become our life. It was a huge part of who we were. It was how we coped with all the stupidity in the rest of the world, and the rest of life. Giving up the thing that made life worth living for us wasn't even a question. We kept riding, without the money, the sponsorships, the industry jobs. We kept riding, because that what we did. That's who we were.
At the same time, Vision Skateboards and Vision Street Wear, which had done something like $60 million in sales in 1988, was collapsing. That story is a big can of worms, and I was in the middle of it, since I worked at Unreel Productions, Vision's video company. In January 1990, we had a meeting, and we were told "Vision is shutting down Unreel." Don Hoffman, who started it, would keep working on a freelance basis, and me and the other lower level employee, were kept, and moved into an office in the main Vision building. The other 5 or 6 people, they were looking for jobs.
After a month or so, that woman that was kept, got a job in Hollywood, and I was sitting in a big office, with a bunch of video equipment, alone. I was getting a decent check, but was bored out of my skull every day. While I was there, other people in Vision were getting laid off nearly every Friday. Morale was horrible, and the biggest group of really talented people I'd ever seen was falling apart. Vision just got too big too quick, and the reckoning time was at hand. At the same time, the whole country was sliding into a recession, which wound up lagging on for about six years. So pretty much everything was looking pretty bad, on many levels. All the more reason to go ride a couple of hours every night, just to blow off some steam.
As all that was happening, and I decided I was sick of the goofy Vision videos (in my opinion), with old footage, very little riding progression, guys riding in leathers and helmets on flatland, and all of that. I wanted to make a video that showed "real riding." So I took my S-VHS camera every weekend, and usually went somewhere with Mike Sarrail, my flatland riding buddy from the Huntington Beach Pier. Along the way, I met New Jersey transplant Keith Treanor, a young, hungry, and really good, yet still mostly unknown, rider. Keith was riding with John Povah most of the time, and they became the core of my video, weekend after weekend.
The whole idea for The Ultimate Weekend was that a group of riders got off work on Friday afternoon, and spent the whole weekend riding all kinds of cool places with all kinds of great riders. That idea got lost a little, but it's how the video is organized, rather than in sections for each rider, which was just one way to make a video back then. Like all revolutions, I was just making this shit up as I went. I was trying to make the video I wanted to watch to get stoked to go ride. A couple hours away, Eddie Roman was doing the same thing. Across the country, Mark Eaton and Jeremy Alder were also doing the same thing. It was time for a change. A handful of us started making that change.
In that weird, crazy, broke-ass context, riding wasn't about making sponsors happy anymore. It wasn't about placing well in the next contest. We just went out day after day to have fun, and to push our limits. Sure, these days, everyone knows that. But all during the 1980's, most of us had to tell people around us that we were trying to get sponsored, or working to go pro, or practicing for a contest, to justify why we spent all of our time and money on "little kids' bikes." By the time 1990 crashed down on us, we were down to the truth, "Fuck it, let's go ride and have fun." We were getting over the need justify riding to other people. "Fuck'em, we have more fun than they do, anyhow, let them think what they want." I doubt the top pros had to deal with people like that, but a lot of the rest of us did.
In that context I ran into Martin Aparijo, or maybe I got a phone call, because he heard I was working on a video. He said something like, "Hey, I have a quarterpipe, bring the guys over for a session." So we went to Martin's house one afternoon, and we ran late, I remember that. But the guys had a great little session right before dusk. It wasn't that long. There was no hype. It was just a bunch of good riders on one of the few ramps that existed then, trying their newest moves.
Here's the crazy part. I'd never seen anyone do a solid nosepick to fakie on a ramp. Both Jess and Todd pulled it that day. I'd never seen anyone do a Smith disaster (front peg, back wheel), Jess did it. I'd never seen a one footed tailtap, Todd did that. I'd never seen a barspin abubaca, Todd did that. I'd never seen an abubaca to nosepick to fakie. Keith did that. I'd never seen Keith (or anyone) pull an icepick, and Keith did that. While freestyle was "dead," it was progressing at light speed. This little session, a half an hour or so at Martin Aparijo's quarterpipe, turned into one of the most innovative segments in a video full of new tricks and progression.
Then there's Martin Aparijo himself, the flatlander. By the time of this session, I'd pretty much forgot that I first saw Martin in BMX Plus as a test rider, jumping. So when he rode up to his ramp and just stomped that front wheel 540 on the bottom of the ramp, I wasn't too surprised. Then he whipped the back wheel 900 (or so) megaspin, and it got away from him. That's to be expected, this is Martin the flatland legend. Todd Anderson, quarterpipe legend, rolls up and does a back wheel 540, to show his ground chops. But then, out of nowhere, Martin hit the ramp at speed and flew out onto the roof. I did not expect that. Then it kicked in, "Oh yeah, Martin was a really good jumper back in the day." I actually missed the shot the first time he did it, he flew right out of frame, I was expecting him to do a small air. The second time he did it, he flew out of sight, but I got the shot.
At the time this video came out, a whole bunch of riders were pausing and rewinding this little section of the video, because it broke a lot of new ground. So thanks Martin, for giving me that phone call back then, I'm really glad this short but awesome session made it into that video.
My drawing of Martin Aparijo, in classic BITD GT pro rider form, still has copies available. About 20 copies of the run of 50 are still up for grabs. They're all signed and numbered by me, and Martin has agreed to sign them all as well. Huge thanks for that Martin. I'm taking the next batch to HB Tuesday tomorrow to get him to sign them. If you're interested in one, hit me up on Facebook, or email me at: stevenemig13@gmail.com, and we'll work it out. They're 11" X 14", all drawn in my #sharpiescribblestyle.
Monday, November 27, 2017
A forgotten Woody Itson trick
But here's one even Woody might not remember. In 1990 Woody's Diamond Back deal was over, and he was riding just for himself, according to a interview bit I just found on 23mag.com . During that year, I was riding the amazing flyout jump at Oceanview High School in Huntingtin Beach often. I was also shooting video for my first self-produced bike video, The Ultimate Weekend.
I just came across this still I made from the video a while back. Woody Itson, unsponsored, throwing a switch handed jump. In 1986, a 14-year-old Mat Hoffman debuted that trick to the freestyle world. Four years later, Woody was pulling it off. Heck, I made the video and I forgot this shot was in there. You can find it at 23:52 in the video.
Kieran Woolley's "Opera" segment
I never heard of him before today, which doesn't mean much. But this is a really cool skate segment, so check it out. I do most of my...
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This is the BMX Plus! video, Freestyle's Raddest Tricks , the first video I bought, shortly after moving to San Jose, CA in September o...
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In 1984, the year BMX freestyle broke from the underground as a weird little sport, a construction worker from Arizona that we'd never ...
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I met Chad from Powers Bikes right after landing in Richmond last August, and both he, and old friend/FBM founder Steve Crandall, have real...


