Carving Utah's canyons as a serial backcountry skier, mountain biker and rapids rider, Ralph Becker is used to bumps.

But neither that rugged recreation nor his dozen years in the blood sport of politics prepared him for the sophomore swells and slumps as Salt Lake City mayor.

Becker, at the halfway mark in his first term, was lionized for sowing Utah's widest-ever anti-discrimination laws, but lambasted for a "bizarre" and now-abandoned goal to frame a police compound on Library Square.

The anti-bias measures protect gays from housing and job discrimination. They spawned headlines and hope in the gay community -- indeed a likely policy tremor across the state -- after the LDS Church endorsed the shift.

But Becker's plan to honeycomb cops with the city's cultural downtown jewel had insiders whispering the mayor's 2011 re-election could be doomed.

Becker's tumultuous 2009 also featured passage of a $125 million bond for a police headquarters, but scoldings by west-siders who screamed they were sold out when the mayor transferred the Sorenson Multi-Cultural Center to Salt Lake County.

Knees wobbly yet?

He also was lauded for putting The Leonardo science museum back on track and on budget, then for tearing up the capital's "antiquated" two-bar-per-downtown-block edict. But Becker was lashed for the "greased" sale of a historic Sugar House schoolhouse to Westminster College.

"He has a genuine concern for people," says Tony Nix, sipping coffee at an east-side java joint. "But he's hit some controversial issues."

Indeed, a skeptical chorus wonders about Becker's tunnel vision for a Broadway-style theater on Main Street and a massive sports complex along the Jordan River, especially when the multimillion-dollar ventures seem like luxuries during a recession.

"He's had some surprises and some controversies, but, frankly, nobody in that position would not have that happen," says Matthew Burbank, a political scientist at the University of Utah. "They don't become debating matches. They don't drag on for a long time. They don't become very public squabbles. That's a good sign."

Instead of kicking kerosene on a smoldering flap like his predecessor Rocky Anderson, this mild-mannered mayor lets policy fires peter out.

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Tilting at triumphs » A gay-rights champion, Becker did more on that front in one year than perhaps the city has ever seen.

On Capitol Hill, his legislative lieutenants preserved the city's mutual-commitment registry. Then, at year's end, Becker minted anti-discrimination measures that will shield the LGBT community at work and at home.

"He was very intentional in the creation of these things," says Brandie Balken, executive director of Equality Utah. "Ralph certainly deserves an immense amount of credit, but the community does as well."

Balken notes Becker is no stranger to the "climate" in Utah and therefore likely was strategic in securing back-channel buy-in from the LDS Church.

"It was a major stepping-stone for this whole community to address equality and justice," Becker says of the ordinance that "obviously" has implications statewide.

Another barrier bulldozed, albeit quietly, Becker then flattened the two-bar-per-block law -- a sign the capital one day could create a bona fide night life. Remarkably, the change breezed through the City Council after never getting off the ground during Anderson's eight years.

"His low-keyness, his calm demeanor have really benefited the city," Councilman (and sometimes critic) Luke Garrott says of Becker, "especially with those who wouldn't normally support his progressive agenda."

Garrott praises City Hall's sustainability push and the bolstering of neighborhoods, including the possibility of pubs in commercial zones near houses. "He's put some walk in the walkability instead of just talk," Garrott says. "The blueprint was ambitious, and this administration has a lot of those things moving."

Becker already has marked off many items from his campaign checklist. The mayor scaled back the planned police buildings to win bucks at the ballot, and he persuaded Salt Lake County and Salt Lake City School District to forfeit tax dollars for a new North Temple viaduct. He added bike lanes, snatched federal dollars to restore the west side's Fisher Mansion and nearly completed the connections along the Jordan River Parkway.

Becker also spread out payday lenders, strengthened historic preservation, snagged the architect of the Salt Lake City Library, Moshe Safdie to help design the Broadway-class theater, and, with council help, beat back the expansion of St. Joseph Villa near Liberty Park.

There has been more "significant policy movement" in 2009 than in any of Carlton Christensen's 12 years on the council, the council chairman says. "On top of that, [Becker] managed to keep Salt Lake City from being the Legislature's bull's-eye," Christen -sen says. "It's not a minor task, and it's not a minor effort on his part."

Resident John Ballard says Becker, one of Utah's highest-profile Democrats, has worked well with Utah Republicans as he quietly forges forward. "I'm happy about the Broadway theater," Ballard says. "And I'm happy the police are going to get a decent place to work."

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Transparency or window dressing? » Becker opened 2009 by unmasking a comprehensive transparency initiative, pledging openness in every endeavor. Featuring an interactive online site designed to foster organic e-democracy, the measure now is the administration's ready answer to every gripe.

"We rely on the public and the media to expose our warts," Becker said in January. "It reminds us of who we are working for."

Throughout 2009, those bosses barked.

Becker's honeymoon evaporated over the summer with resistance to plans to place the police complex on Library Square.

Deeda Seed, a well-connected former councilwoman who organized the opposition, says Becker, an urban planner, likely listened to too many so-called experts. "His gut told him it was a bad idea, and he should have stuck with that," she says. "They got caught up in the excitement of moving Legos around on a map."

At the same time, Seed cheers the mayor for changing course by shoving the public-safety complex across the street from the square.

"He listened," Seed says. "He got the message loud and clear."

But Jeff Bair, a budding activist in the Liberty Wells Community Council, says he sees little planning from the city's planner in chief. "He's been pushing the transparency point, which I think is good," Bair says. "His score card in meeting that is not the best. The verdict's still out on his leadership. A lot of comment I'm hearing is he's a one-term mayor."

Becker says he always strives to engage residents, even if it means taking fire. "By shaking those issues out in front of the public and having a dialogue, even though it is not always an easy discussion," he says, "enables us to work through those issues."

As summer turned to fall, the mayor was blistered for "abandoning" the Sorenson recreation center, a subsidized sanctuary in Glendale that serves hundreds of low-income residents.

"It bothers me that they weren't forthcoming," says Archie Archuleta, the city's former minority-affairs director, who argues west-side slights are becoming "an ongoing thing."

Most recently, conservationists pummeled the mayor's office with worries that a $41 million sports complex near Rose Park will "annihilate" the largest bloc of undeveloped, publicly owned land along the Jordan River. They say Becker is hedging on his first State of the City address when he called the river "a model for ecological restoration and a pleasing amenity for our residents and visitors."

"We can't even get a meeting with Ralph," says Ray Wheeler, director of the Jordan River Restoration Project, who lives along the river and cleans the waterway from his kayak in the summer. "The west side is still feeling neglected, and those of us who value open space are feeling abused."

Christensen, who points to a big-money makeover of the west side's North Temple, isn't so sure. "In balance, he has been fair with us," says the Rose Park representative. "He's had to take some tough stands."

Unlike some governmental bodies in Utah, the capital honors open-meeting principles, assists in most public-records requests and posts its permit process online.

"We need to distinguish between people who disagree with a particular approach the city is taking and the issue of transparency," Becker says. "My response to the matters that have come up is, 'To the contrary.' There might be disagreement about those decisions, but that's different than being transparent and open and engaging people."

But if the Becker administration believes sunshine is City Hall's best disinfectant, it may want to polish up its online efforts. The city's transparency Web site suddenly is a dead link.

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Beltway bound » Except during the summer, when the Beltway pace slows, Becker jetted to Washington, D.C., nearly every month this year, sometimes twice. Since taking office, his frequent-flier ledger has logged 15 visits, first to Congress and now with the Obama administration.

But neither Becker nor Len Simon, the city's Washington lobbyist, apologize for the frequency. Gaining face time with a new administration focused on urban renewal, they say, is critical.

And it could be lucrative.

"The folks in the administration have a high awareness of Salt Lake as a terrific laboratory," Simon says. "It's typically 48 hours of the mayor's time. For him to allocate a couple of days every few months has been, like the commercials say, 'priceless.' "

Simon points to money for 10 additional cops, Fisher Mansion's restoration, a streetcar study and stimulus projects. Through Becker's presence, the city has its hand in the hopper for a $35 million Sugar House streetcar grant, $280 million just made available nationwide for streetcar and transit projects and a new $154 billion jobs bill. The city, Simon says, is "almost certain" to benefit from the jobs money, which could be a boon toward launching four streetcar routes Becker wants to snake through downtown.

Just how much such Washington travel actually pays off is hard to judge, Burbank, the U. professor says. Mayors often do as much damage control in D.C. as they do lobbying for cash. On the latter point, Becker already is convinced.

"They are paying great dividends," he says.

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A genteel touch » Just months ago, politicos were predicting an ugly showdown between Salt Lake City and the Legislature over widened gay rights and loosened liquor laws. But perhaps because of Becker's passive personality -- indeed his approach to politics -- few expect fireworks.

"The mayor has done a fantastic job of holding to his progressive ideals, but doing it in a way that he can advocate and bring others on board," says Ben McAdams, the mayor's senior legislative liaison, who soon will replace outgoing state Sen. Scott McCoy. "Look no further than the nondiscrimination ordinance. Not only is Salt Lake City not a target, but many are realizing that a vibrant capital city is in the best interest of the entire state."

Becker tapped that rationale to notch $20 million this year for a new North Temple viaduct to greet the airport TRAX line.

"He seems to have a leadership style that works," Burbank adds. "You don't see the revolving door you saw with Rocky."

Still, some city voters insist a kinder, gentler mayor is better defined as invisible -- a trait that makes him vulnerable. "It is so cultish here. If you don't have a strong opposition, it's just homogenized like Utah County," says downtown resident Spencer Merrill. "Rocky Anderson was the devil -- that meant: 'I'm voting for him.' You don't hear that so much with Ralph."

Residents frequently say they like Becker personally but know little about his feats.

"I have some concerns that he's not a bold enough leader," Seed says. "It seems sometimes that he lacks energy. There is some yearning among the populous of Salt Lake for a leader who does speak truth to power. But in some ways he's been more effective than Rocky. It may be that his quiet style is effective."

Either way, Becker's slate is full. In 2010, he expects to rein in aggressive panhandling, bring bars to neighborhood commercial areas, enact citywide demolition restrictions (no more Sugar House holes) and plan the sweeping northwest quadrant.

Asked how he can navigate such political land mines and survive, the mayor shrugs. "We have an ambitious agenda," he says -- quietly.

djensen@sltrib.com