LAKE SHORE DRIVE.

THE LAKEFRONT HAS SEEN MANY A SKATE JAM AND SWALLOWED MANY A CHRISTMAS PRESENT

IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1909, CHICAGO CITY PLANNER Daniel Burnham unveiled his extensive "Plan of Chicago," a progressive and well-laid outline of public works programs which would propel this town of congestion and confusion into what Time Magazine would one day call "The city that works." Burnham's plan would institute efficiency and order into the city via four key elements. The first was an expressway (The Eisenhower) which would reroute commuter traffic out of the congested areas. Next was an appeal for five offshore islands to be used for designated activities. Of these we received one, Miegs Field airport. Third was Burnham's specific emphasis on the necessity of sports facilities in and around the city. To this day, his call to the athlete echoes through Chicago's first public skatepark, aptly named Burnham skatepark. And finally, the vision that lakefront property belong to every man. Burnham believed that everyone, without exclusion, has a right to the shoreline. From Wisconsin to Indiana, Chicago' s public park system spans the entire length of its Lake Michigan coast. Within the city limits, you'll find no rich football players who've decided to buy up lakefront property. It can't be done. Save that shit for the suburbs.

Yes, the lakefront is host to public parks abroad, soccer fields and schooner ports, complete with bike paths and drinking fountains. there was a time when the lake itself rose all the way up to Chicago's infamous Michigan Avenue (yes, that's where they got the name). Traffic became so dense that walking was faster than cranking out that old Model T. So, to combat the intense gridlock a plan was instituted to extend the city into the lake and build a type of expressway that would bypass all of the confusion radiating from the loop. To get a good look at Lakeshore Drive, take a peek at Ferris Beuller's Day Off, or The Fugitive, or maybe Candyman. Pretty much any movie that takes place in Chicago starts off with one of those helicopter shots flying above the lake towards the city.

In the days before airplane travel and before our railroad system was so expansive, Lake Michigan provided the Midwest with a gateway to the Atlantic by channeling through the Great Lakes. This secured Chicago as a port city and aided in provisions for most of the country's goods. The Chicago River fills the rest of downtown with a key to the lake. And once a year, on that holiest of holy days (not Christmas), the city dyes the river green. The dye consequently spills out into the lake and most of the shoreline becomes frighteningly discolored. A welcome change from the gray water of the ending winter, but not pleasant enough to stave off the fear in children and wildlife who will turn and run for the hills with the idea that the Fermi lab had some terrible nuclear experiment go ary.

Business life in Chicago stands tall, which provides an amazing sight to behold, While standing on the shore you witness the virtual canyon of skyscrapers come to a halt and give way to one simple road, Lake Shore Drive. At any point throughout its length you are subjected to a bike path within eye shot, where rollerbladers are allowed to fall down and scrape their knees anytime they feel like it. The treachery of Lake Shore Drive is no ordinary traffic problem. In a part of the country where beaches are few and far between, middle-aged men cruising through the twists and turns of said road often have trouble processing the information given off by sunbathing beauties while flying by at 50 MPH. It doesn't take a Mario Andretti to figure out that the majority of traffic hold-ups are not due to the abundance of SUVs in the carpool lane.

The beach provides muscle heads with an outlet to display their hard work; teenage attention hounds with an audience to feed off of; aspiring circus performers with a juggling forum; chess enthusiasts with a table and opponent, sports fanatics with field and play; fishermen with dock and smelt; and skateboarders with obstacle and freedom. Every morning you can count on a small population of the bicycle community to convene at Oak Street Beach to watch the sunrise. And on any given day of the summer, you can venture onto the same concrete beach to find a torrential commune of skateboard enthusiasts rolling, hopping, and sweating their asses off. The lakefront has seen many a skate jam, and swallowed many a Christmas present. Rolling on the lake holds its own amount of consequence. The valiant will dive in and hope that their bearings won't rust. The meek will take the one block walk to Push skateshop and purchase a new death machine. The historic Sea Wall, located at the Shed Aquarium, is easily responsible f or the largest amount of skateboard farewells. It takes a gluefoot to carve that monstrous vert-plus contraption and go home still clutching your skatemobile.

Navy pier, a once workable military outpost, has now been converted into the largest tourist attraction next to the Sears Tower. The pier once housed the world's tallest ferris wheel; today we find alternate uses for its benches and sculptures while dodging tourists and showgoers alike. The convenience of smooth ground and legal skateboarding attracts us all to the greatest of the Great Lakes at one time or another. The city's illustrious museums and public parks continue to pump more and more money into their beautification ventures, insuring that the shoreline will always be changing. Construction is underway every day of the year, constantly building up and tearing down, while providing us with new leisure community and skate spots to hurt ourselves on.

Plentiful is the lakeshore, where at any given point there is something interesting to skate and something even more interesting just down the path. And don't be thrown by the acronym; if you're ever in Chicago and someone asks where they can find LSD, just point east.