The first four blocks are cold. All gently downhill, the black skateboard carrying me quietly all on its own. After that it's warmer as I push and push and roll, push and push and roll, heart responding and warm blood moving.

I have made this run many times. The sky is just turning blue from night's dark grey, with signs in the east that the sun, yes, will rise again. Our earth's shadow still rises from the ocean far off to the west. Although the run is the same, along Rose to the beach, the day is different.

The board itself is very different. Peter, in Germany, sat down, threw away the book of accepted skateboard design practice, and started from scratch. What should a long skateboard do? Above all, it should accept the world as it is, rough pavement, holes, ruts, puddles. Beyond that it should be stable, accepting of non-optimal operation because sometimes the rider has to make emergency moves. It should be light in weight so that the rider isn't overburdened when the trip is finished. Add those desiderata in layers and the design that emerges is different from anything else. Build it anyway. Does it work?

I approach Rose. That street is too busy for a skateboard so I have to divert to the sidewalk. This starts with a sharp turn to the wheelchair ramp, with the usual step at the bottom that has stopped me on other boards. This one just rolls on up, hardly noticing the step, nor any of the other cracks and holes.

What does it look like? Black on top, shiny, with the carbon-fiber skeleton showing. Two big bug-eyed housings at the ends for the trucks and their big wheels. The standing platform between them is close to the ground, skimming along just high enough allow tilting for turns. All the clearances have been very carefully thought out and made. It looks as if it should be jet-propelled, and its quiet hiss-rumble could make one believe that it is.

Light grows in the east. The full moon is low over the Santa Monica Mountains; house windows just beneath the moon are sparking orange, burning with reflected fusion warming. Down here in the houses all is still in shade.

A crew is installing new sand fences, their progress measured in the gradual replacement of the old rusty sections with shiny ones. Beyond them the beach rake is making its daily rounds. No matter how early you get out here the beach rake is already here.

The Boardwalk is no challenge. Smooth new concrete and I whisper along, steadily pushing. Why? Just to get out of the house. I have no intention of doing a sand sculpture. I just want to see the world right now, as it is, and a skateboard does this better than anything else. It's exactly this kind of trip that my new Rolls Rolls executes gracefully. I no longer have to worry about what I'm rolling over. Those big wheels will either roll over it or their narrow profile will miss it. Its stability means that even if my feet aren't quite in the right place the board won't be upset; it's easy to compensate.

At the south end there are already skateboarders doing tricks in the small park. Sunrise is imminent but they're concentrating so much that they hardly notice my quiet passage by them, let alone something so common as the sun. I roll through and around, doing a quick S-turn to lose speed so that I can step off easily.

I do this somewhat reluctantly. Roll on. Keep going. Why quit? Well, I want to see what's happening on the sand. Picking up the board is easy and it balances well in my hand. Designing a skateboard to be carried might seem backward, but eventually the skateboarder gets to someplace where riding is impossible. A heavy longboard at this point is a liability. This board makes the carrying less painful.

Sanderlings immerse themselves in the remains of a wave and flutter their wings. I've never seen the little birds do this. Others probe the smooth sand for edible interstitial organisms much too small for me to see. I've looked. Gulls watch them. Others fish offshore, skimming the lazy waves.

The sand is laid in graceful curves in the long shadow of an apartment building. It's a perfect site for a sand sculpture. Maybe tomorrow. I stand quietly and the little birds approach within ten feet, until something spooks them and as one they rise and fly back to the water's edge. Then, panic over, they walk back with their usual quick movements.

Standing hurts my back. I walk back to the concrete and resume riding, taking a turn through the joggers in the park. More skateboarders have arrived. One would think they'd notice this odd board but they're too busy on cell phones and other conversations. Besides, this is Venice. The unusual just isn't enough. I push on.

North along the bike path. Every fifty feet or so the concrete path has big expansion joints which nearly stop my other skateboards. This one hardly notices, and its light weight makes for quick acceleration when I push. The final test comes when I exit the path and enter the parking lot where there's an even bigger gap between asphalt and concrete. The board just rolls over this obstacle and I continue, through the parking lot, across the boardwalk and up Rose.

The signal turns green. I'm at the top of the little hill and push twice to get speed. Down the wheelchair ramp and across the street, then up the far side, smooth as can be, with confidence. Pedestrian traffic requires attention, including one jogger that isn't looking where he's going. Even Rolls Rolls can't solve this problem, but I was ready for him and going slowly, giving him time to notice that he's not the only person in the world.

Sunlight floods the world. The day begins with light and continues with noise, but I'm not contributing any of the latter. On the smooth pavement of a side street the board is very quiet. I push along, up the slight incline, home. Walking up the last steep hill the world seems brighter. Get out and move around. Exactly what this skateboard was made to do.

Since then I've put a lot more miles on this board and my opinion is still that it's a great board, deserving more attention from prospective longboarders. Just watch out when the street gets wet because those narrow wheels lose their grip.

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