September 23, 1999
Thousands of cars pass by the small cryptic word scratched on a sidewalk next to a busy Mid-County street every day.
Should someone happen to notice the word Ozz at all they probably would equate it with the fantasy land of Dorothy’s fever dream and her escape from Kansas rather than a landmark for wandering BMX riders in search of a now-legendary track less than 100 feet away.
But to Alekz Londos, the dreamer, designer and builder of the track, the reference to the land of Oz that captivated a country battling with an economic depression in the 1930s is not at all at odds with his own struggle with the demons of depression.
Londos, a 20-something BMXer, created the track as a means to escape from his own day-to-day life that finds him now without a permanent home. He uses a friend’s phone number for messages and showers at the park facilities at Moran Lake.
He produces videos of his and other BMX riders’ exploits for public access television in Santa Cruz and works to defy gravity on the ramp he constructed at Ozz. He found high school a troubling experience after moving to Santa Cruz from Nevada seven years ago and dropped out. He attempted to get his GED, but lost interest.
After scouting the location, Londos spent three months planning his track. Eight months of hard work later he unveiled it to friends and the word quickly spread that this was a track to be seen, if not ridden, by all true BMXers in the area.
Last Saturday found Landos quietly holding court with a BMX father and his daughters from San Jose and three cyclists who rode to Live Oak from Scotts Valley to see the track and watch Londos attempt to soar over his own rainbow.
Not that all is well with the future of the track. It lies in an area that will be under water once the rains return and on property owned by the county. Londos has met with a representative of county public works who told him that the track would have to go, but passed along his congratulations to Londos on a job well done at the same time.
The trail from the road disappears just steps from the sidewalk into thick bushes. Some 20-feet later it tumbles down a steep hillside that has been cut into a stairway. The track lays before the visitor like a small piece of BMX heaven. There is a steep ramp down the hill, leading to a perpendicular ramp pointing to the sky.
Couches have been brought in for the comfort of onlookers and there is an observation deck (Al Davis would call it a luxury suite) attached to the cliff and a tree where music plays and riders gather.
The visiting riders from Scotts Valley are nearly speechless as they behold Londos’ work, but none among them is ready to try the jump that Alekz calls his own.
Londos has a small problem to surmount, however, before he can take to the air. His bike has a flat tire and it looks as though Saturday’s performance will have to be postponed. But, a visitor from Scotts Valley offers up his ride saying, “I can at least say my bike made the jump, even if I didn’t.”
Londos quietly dons the protective gear that will prove to soon save him from serious injury, pushes the donated bike to the top of the earthen ramp and asks that the area below be cleared for his attempt.
He plummets headlong down the cliff, pedals hard twice and hits the ramp. There is a collective gasp from audience as he rises quickly some 20-25 feet in the air, separates from his bike and crashes to earth in a heap of boiling dust and flailing arms and legs. He rises quickly to the praise of the assembled, picks up the bike and heads back up the hill.
He rides the ramp seven times, landing on the bike twice. On the other attempts he, in absolute disregard for his body, crashes into the dirt and on two occasions goes headlong into the 3-foot deep drainage ditches he has built around the jump.
While airborne he has the appearance of the movie character E.T., soaring on his bike, free, albeit momentarily, from his earthly bonds, above and away from his problems.
Londos is direct when asked why he does what he does on a bicycle. “I’m a depressed person,’’ he says. “I can either act out violently, or I can ride my bike. I choose to ride.”
A couple of the other riders try their hand at another smaller jump, but most are stunned into submission by the ability they have seen on a BMX bike. Like groupies they just like being around Alex. He enjoys them as kind of an extended family.
Alekz hopes the location will prevent a quick destruction of his track by the county. “I chose this place because it’ll be real hard to get a tractor in here to tear it apart.” But he knows his track’s days are numbered.
“It’s going to be gone when it rains,” he says wistfully. “But I’ve moved before and I’ll do it again.”
It’s never far from the Land of Ozz when you are dreaming of a better place.
Copyright © 1999-2005, Santa Cruz Sentinel Publishers Co.
Bill Lovejoy/Sentinel Contact blovejoy@santacruzsentinel.com
