I like cars. Old cars. Customs, low-riders, hot-rods, land speed racers—anything from the late ’20s on up to the early ’70s. I like looking at them, working on them, and of course driving them. One day I get a photo sent to my phone of a gold and burgundy ’53 Bel Aire. "I just got this for $6,000 from some guy in Florida who got it from Cuba. Siiiiiiick!" This was the message Darren sent along with the photo. And then he sent it again, and again. For the next three or four months he kept texting me the same photo over and over. "My car's siiick; way cooler than anything you got. I remember you telling me your favorite car is a Bel Aire. Now you're kind of jealous, huh?" OK, it's battle time. Me and Darren like to argue and go at it, but mostly about skating: Who did what, what's the name of this trick, who went higher, faster, or longer. We also have some heated games of SKATE when it comes to a mini-ramp. Stickball? We'll go at it for hours. Shaman dance competitions (I usually win) go on for days. I guess we're just competitive with each other—not in a rivalry way, but in a shit-talking, having fun, one-up each other type of way. When it comes to getting down and dirty on a skateboard, Darren will turn it up to 11. Kicky melons over head, El Dually-O's, Eldrechtials, boarder crossings and shallow verts. He's also got me beat by having his own video character in the EA Skate game. But that's about it; I win at everything else. Obviously I'm the one writing this so I'm a bit biased. The Vertical Vampire, The Vertical Crow, The Dark Prince, Switzerland, D-Navs, Darrell Navato—the names go on and on. Oh, and if it was up to Alex Olson, Navs would ride for Girl.