Pete's Expert Summary
My human has brought a large, flat, wooden plank into my domain. Apparently, it was designed by some great bird of prey called a "Tony Hawk," which is concerning. This "Voyager" contraption is made of maple wood—appealing for a good claw-sharpening session, I'll admit—and has a gritty, sandpaper-like surface that would be absolutely dreadful on the paw-pads. It's supposedly for "intermediate riders," which I can only assume means bipeds with a moderate level of clumsiness. While its ability to roll might provide a moment of fleeting amusement, it mostly seems like a noisy, oversized, and hazardous piece of furniture that will inevitably get in the way of my patrol routes and interrupt my naps. A glorified rolling pin for a species that has already mastered the art of falling over on its own.
Key Features
- Perfect for Intermediate Riders: This 31 inch series 1 skateboard is a step up Pro Board with 5" Custom Aluminum Trucks & Carbon Steel ABEC-5 bearings that gives you just the right balance of convenience, safety, and stability.
- Portable and lightweight: Thanks to a sturdy wooden build coupled with the lightweight, our skateboard for cruising makes the perfect companion for your outdoor trips and travels; it's easy to carry around making it ideal for anyone that wants to skate anywhere they want
- Sturdy and stable build: The complete skateboard deck is made using durable and sturdy maple wood to add strength and stiffness while also gives it a stylish flair; it offers more traction for your feet and gives better control when skating
- Tony Hawk Signature Series: The skateboard is suitable for all skill levels and part of the Tony Hawk Signature Skateboard Series. The skateboard provides just the right fit for Cruising, Carving, Free-Style, Downhill, and more while staying stylish the super cool graphics; it's designed with aluminum alloy trucks to offer more control and stability when riding
- Thoughtful gift idea: If you're looking for a gift for family and friends that like to skate then our wooden cruising skateboard has you covered; it makes the perfect gift for Christmas, Birthdays, New Year's, Thanksgiving, and any other occasion you have in mind
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The thing arrived in a cacophony of tearing cardboard and triumphant human noises. He called it a "board," a pathetically inadequate name for the monstrosity he un-sheathed. It lay on my floor, a slice of forest floor desecrated with a screaming skull graphic and four little black wheels. It smelled of wood, yes, but also of a strange, metallic tang and the grim determination of a factory. My human kept muttering the name "Tony Hawk," and I could only picture a giant, fearsome avian creature, perhaps the one whose skull was now plastered on this wheeled altar. He had clearly acquired a tribute to a powerful sky-god. He placed it on the hardwood, giving it a gentle tap with his foot. It didn't clatter or stumble. It glided. With a low, humming whisper, it slid across the polished floor, silent and purposeful as a shark. My fur bristled. This was no clumsy human invention; it possessed a grace that was alien and deeply unsettling. It came to a stop near my water bowl, an intruder brazenly staking a claim near a vital resource. I approached with the cautious, low-slung gait I reserve for the vacuum cleaner and other such abominations. The top surface was, as I suspected, a cruel trap of grit and glue. An insult to my pristine toe-beans. My human, seeing my interest, committed the ultimate folly. "Wanna ride, Pete?" he asked, his voice dripping with the kind of condescension I despise. He gently placed me on the board. For a moment, I was too shocked to react. The world was a strange, gritty platform beneath my paws. Then, he gave the board another push. The floor began to move away from me. Panic, pure and undiluted, seized my very soul. I did not yowl. I did not flail. I am Pete, after all. With the coiled power of a jungle cat, I launched myself from the accursed plank, landing silently four feet away. I turned, my gray tuxedo immaculate, and fixed my human with a stare that could curdle cream. He had the audacity to laugh. The board, my momentary prison, continued its silent journey until it bumped softly against the leg of the sofa. I watched it, my tail twitching with contempt. It was a failure as a vehicle. An affront as a perch. But as an object of scorn? As a testament to my human's bafflingly poor judgment? In that, it was a masterpiece. I decided then and there to shed upon its gritty surface at every opportunity. It was not a toy to be played with, but a territory to be marked and, eventually, conquered. It could stay, for now, as a reminder of my superior agility and intellect.
