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Eddie’s Archive : Grenade Glory Days

This feature originally appeared in the September issue of TransWorld SNOWboarding Magazine, subscribe here. 

Not too long ago, pro snowboarders had more responsibilities than you may think. Riders who were paid premium wages for their talents on hill, were also expected to uphold the sought-after lifestyles of pros, which often included ridiculous antics. Eddie Wall has seen it all and been through a bevy insane times throughout his travels. In this feature, which first appeared in the magazine,  Eddie Wall digs up evidence from his Grenade glory days.

In 2012, we traveled with Danny, Dingo, and Dustin Craven to Costa Rica. We wrestled wild crocodiles in a murky river at 2:00 a.m.; it was the sketchiest thing I have ever done
in my life. Dingo got bit by a huge snake, Dustin licked a psychedelic toad, and we got robbed. There are islands off the coast where natives live and subside mostly off coconuts and crabs from the beach. We stayed with them for two days, learned their ways, and got caught in a monsoon. Luckily, we had some machetes to cut down coconuts and look tough.

May 17th is Norway's national day, similar to 4th of July
in the States, and the country goes crazy. Everyone gets dressed up, and most proceed to drink copious amounts. We were all watching this massive parade go by us in the street, so like typical drunk Americans, we ducked the ropes and joined the parade. We grabbed Norwegian ags and blended right in, kind of. We never would have guessed that the parade went past a security checkpoint and directly up to the front door of the Royal House of Norway—essentially their White House. We were standing just a few yards away from the King's balcony, where he was waving to about 100,000 people. He looked directly at us, and we all just waved back in total disbelief.

In 2001, Grenade was nothing more than a logo and an idea. We spraypainted an old van, threw a couch and some surfboards
in the back, and drove into Mexico. We took some sketchy dirt roads for a long time until we found this giant shipwreck off the shore with a perfect wave breaking next to it. When we pulled up to check it out, the van instantly sunk up to its axle and became completely stuck. So we set up camp. We didn't have much food—only some Cheez Whiz and Pop-Tarts. Soon we discovered a little wooden boat would pass by in the evenings, selling fresh lobsters for a dollar each, which we would cook over an open re. We didn't think much of the fact that our van had grenades stenciled all over it until we were being held at gunpoint by federales screaming, "Grenada? Grenada?" Luckily, they love stickers and Playboys and let us go. I drank way too much tequila one night and punched the sidewalk until I broke all the knuck- les in my hand, but that's a whole different story.

Danny wanted to learn more about Native American culture, so he, Peter Line, Dingo, and I decided to get a large teepee and live on the Blackfoot Reservation in Montana for a week. It was January and roughly -10 degrees our entire stay. We kept warm by a re that we would have to throw logs on every hour throughout the night. It seemed like a good idea until Dingo's sleeping bag caught on re one night and almost killed him. Stray dogs broke in during the day and ate all our food, and they would drag dead animals into our sleeping bags. We were often freezing and dirty, but our teepee did have a couch, lamp, and boombox—none of which did much to make it more comfortable.

Stay tuned for more archival insanity.

Check out more from the magazine here.