This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2007, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
DRAPER -- It sounds like a lazy day in the park, but "Sunday at SunCrest" is no picnic.
It's part of a growing trend sweeping the Salt Lake Valley: A rip-roaring, downhill, longboard race that reaches 60 mph, complete with rocky asphalt and oncoming traffic on busy roads.
Longboarders -- who get their thrills on extended, low-riding, speed-designed skateboards -- say they can share the streets with motorists and pedestrians.
Drivers "get really pissed when they get scared," rider Nic Adams says. "They're just not used to people moving on a longboard on the street with them."
But valley police officers and city officials fear the fad -- illegal in some locations -- threatens public safety.
"Some of the boarders come down that hill [SunCrest Drive] pretty quick, and it's surprising drivers," Draper City Councilman Bill Colbert says. "They have to take evasive action or are afraid they're going to hit one of these kids. I'm worried someone is going to get hurt or killed."
Lynn Rohland, spokeswoman for the University of Utah Police, says longboarding has been rampant across campus for years. Boarders often start at the U. and pick up speed heading downhill on 100 South and into downtown.
"This is everywhere on our campus," Rohland says. "It's a big issue, and we take it seriously."
But riders argue they have control over their boards, so motorists and pedestrians have nothing to worry about.
"It's a new sport and a newer way of riding," Adams says. "People need to get used to it."
Though he gets $20 tickets from time to time in Salt Lake City for "operating a toy vehicle" on the street, Adams shrugs off the fines as the "fee for his season boarding pass."
Jeff Bedard, spokesman for the Salt Lake Police Department, says longboarders are permitted only on sidewalks -- and not even there in the central business district that stretches from 600 West to 200 East and from North Temple to 500 South.
But Adams calls sidewalks impractical. Too many hazards. Too many cracks. Longboards cannot handle the bumps because they ride so close to the ground.
Bedard says police haven't encountered a huge number of problems with skaters on roads.
So, for now, Adams settles for a rare fine.
"They don't understand how much we ride," he adds, "compared to when they actually catch us."
Longboarder Josh Wood, 27, knows the safety risks that come with riding next to cars.
He was wearing a motorcycle helmet and full padding last November as he cruised down 100 South at 40 mph. But when he ended up wrapped stomach-first around a stone structure after a taxi knocked him off his board, his safety gear didn't prevent him from crushing three vertebrae and spending five days in LDS Hospital.
Jeni Owens, LDS Hospital spokeswoman, says the emergency room hasn't historically treated many longboarding injuries.
"Bad things can definitely happen because there's a lot of speed involved," says Adams, who was trailing Wood at the time of the wipeout. "It was pretty gnarly, but that's just one of the risks that's involved with the sport."
Wood had a similar reaction. His first question from his hospital bed: "When can I get back on my board?"
"Once you pick up a board, you can't put it down. This has defined my whole life," he says. "Board sports are almost like this higher power."
Wood knows he's lucky; he didn't suffer any nerve or spinal-cord damage. But giving up boarding after his accident, he says, would have been "like getting in a car accident and swearing off driving."
He usually rides for fun, but with the sport gaining popularity, his options are growing. International competitions have emerged in Brazil, South Africa, Canada and the United States. And some boarders throw together impromptu "outlaw races" that don't request proper approvals.
So, on the occasional Sunday, Wood and his compadres stand atop SunCrest Drive, wait for traffic to clear and then wind their way down the steep hillside. They design homemade equipment by gluing sturdy boards to gloves, allowing them to throw their hands to the ground as they ride low to control their speed through sharp turns and slide side to side on the streets.
"SunCrest is like this perfect hill," Wood says. "It's four miles long with a 1,000-foot vertical drop. In some parts you're almost falling. . . . Typically we're going as fast if not faster than the cars."
The winner gets a small pool of money and -- maybe more important -- walks away with the fewest scrapes and bruises.
And while drivers' reactions vary, Wood says, they are beginning to accept the fact that boarders are traversing hillsides throughout the valley.
"I've had people try to run me off the road," he adds. "But with the SunCrest crowd, I haven't had a lot of problems. People stop and wait for us to go past them, and they'll usually be holding up a 'rock on' sign or 'hang loose.' I love that mentality. I love it when people accept it."
But even as the sport takes off -- from Park City and downtown Salt Lake City to Big Cottonwood Canyon and Draper -- police continue to express concern.
Scott Peck, a Draper officer and longboarder, says there is not much the city can do in terms of stopping boarders unless they are speeding. On SunCrest Drive it's even tougher, he adds, because it's a private road.
But whether it's SunCrest Drive on the south side of the development or Traverse Ridge Road on the northwestern end, Peck says the velocities pose a major concern.
"There's some very, very fast traffic back there," he says. "Those cars are coming 50-, 60-, 70 mph, and you can't hear them when the wind is blowing in your ears. It's extremely, unbelievably dangerous."