Why all skateboard punks must kneel before Tyler Buschmann

CHARLES GULLUNG

Tyler Buschmann in Brownstown, Indiana, with only about 800 miles to go.

IN THE ANNALS of athletes who slog across torturous distances in pursuit of fame, consider the case of 19-year-old Tyler Buschmann. Last November, the Truckee, California, resident kicked off an effort to set a Guinness Book first for skateboarding from San Francisco to New York City. Such epic trips are rarely without their trials, but Buschmann's saga reads like an unsolicited submission to MTV's Jackass.

• Our story begins when Buschmann and fellow skate rat Justin Hawxhurst, 21, join forces with Robert Garside, aka The Runningman, on November 17 in San Francisco. Garside, a 34-year-old from London, England, was at the time four years into his own record attempt to become the first person to run around the planet. The pair unite with Garside in response to an appeal on his Web site for other athletes to tag along.

• Three weeks later, on December 7, Buschmann, Garside, and Hawxhurst arrive in Austin, Nevada, 171 miles east of Reno. There, Venezuelan national Endrina Perez—the group's support-van driver and Garside's girlfriend—decides a mysterious rash on her body requires medical attention. Garside and Perez drive to Reno while Buschmann and Hawxhurst push on to Ely, Nevada, 146 miles down U.S. 50, arriving December 11.

• The next day, Ely police promptly arrest Buschmann for trespassing and skateboarding at a convenience store and throw him in jail. Buschmann says he was just eating his lunch; the following morning, a judge dismisses the case.

• By the time Garside and his girlfriend catch up to the skateboarders in Ely eight days later, Hawxhurst calls it quits. His reason: "It was taking way too long." Buschmann then travels alongside Garside and Perez until the three pull into tiny Delta, Utah (pop. 3,132).

• Garside and Perez promptly abandon the skateboarder—he finds his stuff in a pile in the lobby of the Delta Best Western—and hightail it out of town before dawn on Christmas Eve. According to Buschmann, Garside drove off with $800 in sponsorship money; Buschmann says energy-drink firm Red Bull had been keen to back the skateboarders, but needed a single name for the paperwork, so the pair completed the agreement in Garside's name, effectively giving him control over the funds. (Red Bull declines to comment.)

• Buschmann says he was relieved to have parted company with Garside, whom he termed "crazy." The Runningman says he's been called worse, and says he bailed on Buschmann because he suspected he was smoking pot. "There's no relationship between marijuana smoking and long-distance sports," the Brit says. "To me it's a poison." (For the record, Buschmann denies indulging.) And the pre-dawn getaway? "I don't owe them any money," contends Garside.

• Continuing on back roads and state highways, the very broke Buschmann kicks his MBS mountainboard through snowy 11,000-foot passes in the Rockies, spends another night in jail—voluntarily, to escape the cold in Dinosaur, Colorado—and sleeps in the desert, in churches, and in the homes of fans.

• Both Buschmann and The Runningman deny they are in a race, but both expected to arrive in NYC in mid-March, within days of each other. At press time Buschmann is in West Virginia, and promises to finish his 3,000-odd-mile trip by leading a parade of skateboarding supporters into the Big Apple. Up next: perhaps a skateboard trek in Asia. "I'd love to be in Japan next year. It'd be easier, but a lot different." —Andrew Becker