Vans – Mixed Grill
Photography by DVL
Words by Yann Xavier-Horowitz
Skrrikk, skrrikk, skkrrik. I open my eyes and the first thing I see is a teenage boy leaning over me about one foot away from my face. Confused, I try to focus on who this stranger is and that’s when I realise he’s sharpening a stick with a knife.
While I’ve been sleeping off all the beers from the night before, all the wood shavings from his organic forest shank have been collecting on my chest like a tiny bonfire. Panic starts to set in. Has the only teenage serial killer in Zug found his next victim? Why am I using Tom the Cooler as a pillow? Where the fuck is my tent? Is he going to go for one swift swoop to my jugular or hit me with a flurry of jabs to the stomach and use my intestines as a washing line?
Chris Pfanner, bump to bump ollie, Zurich
I’m too hungover to react or think. I can barely move at this point, shell-shocked from the all-nighter spent howling at the moon with the rest of the nomads. The boy with the shank is still looking directly into my eyes and hasn’t stopped sharpening that fucking stick for a second. There’s enough flint on my torso now to start a mixed grill with; I’m going to have to make a move.
Jeff Carlyle, wallride nosgrind tailgrab, Lugano
In my fragile state the only thing I can muster up is a shaky and embarrassingly faint, “Alles Good?” His face lights up and replies with a “Alles good.” I can finally take a proper deep breath. My ears are ringing and I still can’t focus properly but this boy starts having a conversation with me in German. I’m just nodding and replying in English to buy myself some time and that’s when it hits me; he’s on the spectrum. In some ways this information is comforting but it still hasn’t answered any of my questions. Most importantly, whose child is this and what is he doing all the way out here?
Alexey Krasniy, ride-on 50-50, Vienna
Our useless chat goes on for about five minutes and then I hear more voices start to bounce around the tents. Two girls with Down’s syndrome poke their heads around the corner and give me a warm smile and wave. Our camp has
been infiltrated; this illegal resting ground has transformed into a special needs playground.
Yann Xavier-Horowitz
I pull myself out of my sleeping bag and try to stretch out all the knots from sleeping on the floor. Yet more questions knock around with my one remaining hungover brain cell. Whose pants do I have on? What day is it? What’s that smell? I must take a walk through camp and get to the bottom of things.
Willow Voges Fernandes, frontside 50-50, Zurich
We picked a particularly beautiful spot in the Swiss mountains to camp this time. The sun is creeping through the trees and the woods are coming back to life. It’s not the critters and the wind I’m hearing this morning though, it’s the shrieks and laughs of about twelve kids that have stumbled across a large tent city built by skateboarders overnight. The one little girl has a great sense of humour but a laugh that could break a wine glass on request and she’s made her way to the GX side of the campsite. Jeff and Otto are still sleeping the chaotic night off but T-funk has been woken up by the repetitive giggles of our silly guests. Confused and angry he rips open his tent and screams, “Who invited SpongeBob to the campsite!”
Notis Aggelis, frontside lipslide, Lugano
I nearly fall over laughing as the kids scurry away to safety from the angry sleepy man with the mullet. Funk and I lock eyes and give each other a nod. I’m walking past the barbeque area now. Past the graveyard of beer bottles, through the mix grill cemetery. This pristine forest is tainted by the reminisce of a primal celebration of life. That’s when I see Notis emerging from his canvas home.
Simon Hallberg, frontside noseslide, Schweinbach
Notis is our mix grill maestro. If there is an open flame and any cut of meat imaginable put in front of him you can see his pupils dilate. He locks in with so much passion in front of a fire it became his daily gift to us. It’s not easy feeding eighteen people, but if you have the Greek Mix Grill God on standby the crew will never go hungry. Steak, sausages, chops, shrimp and the occasional chicken with a beer can stuck up its ass were not safe around this man. ”Beer chicken” and “life sentence with no parole chicken” were the stars of the show. Put some chicken in the pan, use whatever booze and spices you have available to marinade it and then have Jeff Carlyle stab it repeatedly with a knife while it cooks to perfection. That’s how you get a life sentence with no parole. It’s an important job keeping the squad fed so I greet Notis good morning with respect and honour (I really just want some mix grill at the lake later).
Tristan Funkhouser, ride-on 50-50, Lugano.
It’s hard to remember which day we’re on now. When you’ve been outside for two weeks straight things get a little blurry and time starts to mould and bend to the will of the road. Vienna, Lugano, Zurich – each night a different place to rest your head, each day a different town to lurk and skate in but most importantly a different lake every afternoon to wash our sins away. When you’ve got three vans full of skaters and camping supplies and no shower on site, a big crystalline body of water becomes your Shangri-La. Lizards recharging on a rock gaining energy from the sun. Hippos enjoying the summer heat with only their eyeballs peeping out the water. Satisfying our primitive need to dive into the ancestral soup that gave us life. Add a diving board or a rope swing and you get a warm up for the session ahead at the same time. That’s when Jeff, Willow, Simon and Hugo would come to life. Trying to one up each other in an aquatic demo of stunts and flips. The amount of times I saw T-funk belly flop doing tricks into water on this trip is insane. Watching each other send our bodies through the air in every way possible into our makeshift bathroom became our ritual; an essential part to this camping trip. Some leisure time by the water waiting out the midday sun was the reason why the crew could stack clips later in the afternoon. Play became a crucial part of being productive. Celebrating all the shenanigans in between filming make a gruelling two-week trip that much more memorable.
Jordan Thackeray, frontside lipslide, Innsbruck
“Where is Pfanner?’ I’m thinking to myself while bumping into a few more of our special guests. That’s when I see two grownups making a massive veggie stew for the squad of gifted kiddos. It’s all starting to make sense now. Every week these kids get to come to the forest and connect with each other, away from a society that isn’t built for them. Society isn’t meant to sustain the way they see the world or interact with the normies. “They’re just like us,” I think to myself.
At the end of the day, we are all just outcasts trying to create a world that works for us. Everyone is in the process of trying to create a reality that’s bearable for them. Whether you’re a skater or a special needs kid in the forest, we’re all living on the fringe of society, disconnected renegades moving freely, unrepentantly to work towards a world that requires less work. The one that’s handed to you just doesn’t cut it sometimes.
Yann Xavier-Horowitz, frontside hurricane to fakie, Zurich
I stumble towards his van and there he is. A portable coffee machine plugged into his home on wheels ready to bring back the crew from the dead. He’s in his element. Only a madman can keep this chaotic crew in check every day. A man that can play harder than any of us and skate every day while managing a skate team has to be a little bit clinically insane. But if the Pfannman says, “Get yourself a tent, we’re hitting the road,” you head to the camping store and best get yourself ready. You’re gonna get taken on a wild ride.
“Wham!”
One of the best good mornings you can get from the legend himself. Wham is an indication that life is good. So I know Chris is ready to fire up the day and get moving.
Max emerges from his tent while the daycare swirls around us. Watermelon in hand with a hole in the top where the bottle of vodka used to be. That’s been Max’s party trick every night on this trip. Pick out the right melon, grab a bottle of vodka and combine the two in a symphony of naughty indulgence. The watermelon is hydrating, colourful, full of nutrients and flavour. This is nature. Then add the distilled potatoes. A concoction that sends the calm into chaos. A man-made elixir conjured up centuries ago that harbours disorder of the highest order. We are the bottle of vodka. If life is about balance then we are on a tight rope in a circus with no net. Carnival lights suspended above us whirling around, spinning above our heads. This life is only for the brave. Max is the ringleader of this fun fair. Documenting it through his lens with watermelon in hand.
Axel Cruysberghs, kickflip, Attersee
I notice Alexey and Simon slowly crawl out of their dens. The creative powerhouses of the trip. To watch these two skate in person is an incredible experience. The way they navigate and manipulate a spot to their whim is inspiring. From tech tricks to ride on fifties down buildings; these guys have it all… Except maybe a balanced sleep schedule.
It’s about that time to start packing up this makeshift town made out of poles and polyester. A ritual we are all too familiar with by now. These tents have seen empty DIY skateparks, caravan parks and the backs of squat buildings. If there’s flat ground and no police we will call it home for the evening. The gamble of getting kicked out of a camping spot adds to the thrill of being on the road. No fences or Netflix, the only security you have is the peers that surround you. The ones that are all in it together. The Comrades of the Mix Grill searching for the next spot to
skate or rest our sore bodies.
Tents are being rolled up and packed away. There’s chatter about a route we can bomb down the mountain towards the lake and the vans are once again packed to the brim. I have to fish some of our skateboards off the roof of a wooden hut in the forest. They were nearly sacrificed to the woods never to be seen again. As the first skateboard hits the ground our visitors’ faces light up. I let them play around on them in the dirt while we make sure nothing else is left behind. By this point we’ve become a big part of these kids’ mornings; all taking turns to chat to them and entertain them in our own ways.
Tristan Funkhouser, halfcab into the 2nd bank, Linz
Who would have thought a bunch of tatted up skateboarders would be such great au pairs for a day? This is the type of raw human connection that should be more wildly practised. Kindness goes a long way but in this case so does patience. If patience is a virtue then send me down the lazy river. Pack me into a van and don’t tell me where our destination is.
The road reminds you what the whole point of all of this is. Eat on the side of the road, wash yourself in a river, camp illegally, cook for your friends, throw out a “WHAM!” as much as possible, don’t take anything too seriously and embrace being uncomfortable sometimes.
Simon Hallberg, backside bluntslide, Vienna
I get offered a bowl of veggie soup while we wave goodbye to the kids and their caretakers before we make our way back down to civilisation. I high five my shank wielding new friend and compliment his fine sharpening skills. The soup helps with the headache, a small offering to get me ready for what’s to come today. “Which spot are we swimming at and who’s gonna film a banger today?” Off we go onto the road to somewhere. Fuck I really need to wash my socks.
Yeelen Moens, hippy jump, Zurich
