Paving the Way: Skateboarding's first generation is riding a slalom revival
What I found were 40-somethings resurrecting memories and a sport.
Slalom racing was big in the '70s and pretty much died in the mid-'80s when the skateboarding went "vertical." Instead of zipping around cones, skateboarders went jumping off ramps and up and down bowls that looked like empty pools. Longboards, the choice of slalom riders, went back to the streets.
Most, if not all, of the guys who assembled in the Tukwila parking lot lived through both phases.
Gareth Roe, who co-owns Roe Racing, was there competing, clad in helmet (required for racing) and elbow and knee pads. "It got restarted about three or four years ago," Roe said. "And we're trying to build it back up."
How did it rekindle? The Internet. Racers could better communicate and share their memories. A former pro got on an electronic bulletin board and said, "Let's get this started again." A couple hundred competitors from around the world gathered for the 2001 World Championship. Roe showed up, rubbing shoulders with the big names from more than 20 years ago.
"I hadn't skated for a really long time, and I was using this old equipment from the '80s," he said. "Eventually, I took this old board to a fiberglass plant in Ballard and brought home a bucket of resin and a bunch of fiberglass. My heroes as a youth were asking me if I could make some for them. I told them, 'I don't even know if they work yet.' "
I looked around at the white hair and stretched T-shirts and asked where the kids were.
"Kids like ripping it up on the street," Roe said, "but we're trying to get them back."
John Stryker, a tall, silver-haired man from Everett, showed me a bit of his board collection. He had them lined up off to the side, to show a sort of evolution. "A board for any course," he said.
The racers shimmied and slid down the gradual slope of the long lot around several dozen plastic cones. Each time one got knocked over and sent flying, it could be replaced perfectly because a paint circle marked its spot. Timer cords at the start and finish clocked their runs. Racers were going about 25 miles an hour, which is relatively slow. Doug Hitch, who started the Cascade Slalom Association back in 1976, was on hand to act as the announcer and color commentator.
Twenty-two skateboarders, many from Oregon, competed. Whooshing down the hill, knees bent, they outstretched arms for balance and maneuvered feet for steering and speed. They compressed the boards into turns, then released the pressure while cruising to the next obstacle.
The wheels on cement sent out a growl as they swooped in and out of the cones. Watching from the top of the slope, I saw the similarities to snow-ski racing. From the side, I could sense the amount of work on the boards by the growl and whoosh.
Competitions like this are often decided by one-hundredth of a second. Winners got small trophies and points, should they choose to race in other series competitions.
The racing was interesting enough to prompt me to visit Roe's business partner, Steve Hopper, who also owns Insect Skateboards. Both Roe and Insect manufacture out of a small, one-car garage in a Ballard alley.
When I visited, a fiberglass supplier was explaining manufacturing techniques to an intern while Hopper described his business and market.
"Slalom is very competitive," he said. "Those guys will do all they can to get that fraction of a second, while longboarders cruise on sidewalks. It's a very different attitude."
Hopper, a former high-tech worker who got his first board at age 7 from J.C. Penney, says about half the slalom-board sales come from Europe. Longboards generally come in lengths of 32 or 36 inches, but Hopper is now producing a 44-incher, which looks like a surfboard in comparison.
As I was leaving, I asked what makes a good slalom racer. As he thought for a bit fiberglass supplier Scott Moles piped up, "being 18 helps."
We all had a laugh at that, but I was disappointed to hear none of them wears a helmet when tooling around town. A friend's nephew didn't wear one and incurred severe head trauma in a fall just a while back. So please, do put one on.
Richard Seven is a Pacific Northwest magazine staff writer. He can be reached at rseven@seattletimes.com.