Daring Feet : Aggressive In-Line Skaters Take Sport to New Level

It was the Judo McTwist that tripped up Erik Bianchi.

The maneuver--a variation on a daring feat that few in-line roller-skaters can execute properly--entails rotating 540 degrees upside down and grabbing one’s leg while speeding up a ramp.

“I miscalculated,” said the 16-year-old Garden Grove resident, who pulled a muscle in his left leg during the recent attempt. “I just got disoriented.”

Bianchi belongs to a fast-growing segment of an even faster-growing sport known as “aggressive” in-line skating. About 15% of the 25 million in-line roller-skaters nationwide pursue the sport that prizes speed, stunts and style above leisurely glides on the boardwalk.

But this special brand of daredevil roller-skating has provoked cities in Orange County, many of which regard the aggressive skaters as a public nuisance. Virtually all local cities restrict the skaters, whose penchant for jumping on curbs, handrails and benches can annoy pedestrians and damage property.

“They aren’t compatible with pedestrian traffic,” Laguna Beach Police Chief Neil J. Purcell Jr said. “They might skate by, whirl around you and race off all at 20 miles per hour.”

Aggressive skaters have found only one sanctuary from the law--Inline Rollerworks in Costa Mesa. The 5-year-old business houses the only ramp facilities in the county specifically designed for them.

Here, summer brings a new freedom to twist, roll and soar in a recreational adventure that surpasses many others when it comes to audacity and daring.

Inside, skaters careen up and down wooden ramps up to nine feet high, perfecting their high-flying stunts and basically doing whatever else their minds and bodies will allow.

Enthusiasts speak of aggressive skating’s “rush”--a surge of excitement produced by the freedom and fear inherent in ramp riding.

“Ramps are addicting, it’s a rush,” Chris Edwards, 21, a world champion ramp skater, said on a recent afternoon at Inline Rollerworks. “The fluidity and speed are amazing.”

Added Bianchi, temporarily laying off the activity until his leg heals: “We’re different. We’re new. We’re outrageous. But I haven’t skated in a while and I’m almost in tears about it.”

With a membership of about 300 children and adults, the ramp facility usually draws about a dozen skaters at any one time during the summer, owner Kon Ammossow said. Though expansion plans are in the works, the park’s maximum capacity is 25, he added.

“With summer here and the kids out of school, we will be getting more and more kids,” Ammossow said. “Sometimes, it feels like we are a baby-sitting service.”

Aggressive skaters are quick to make a distinction between themselves and what they view as the overly conventional weekend roller-blader rolling along near the beach in spandex shorts.

“It’s an entirely different mentality. It’s a personal thing,” said Jess Dyrenforth, 26, an associate publisher of an aggressive-skating magazine based in Laguna Beach. “It’s a form of expression. There’s no rules, no one telling you what to do. It’s a form of art, really.”

Even top athletes such as Edwards wear plenty of protective gear, which includes huge knee and elbow pads and helmets. Contrary to the public’s perception, enthusiasts say the padding prevents most injuries and the sport isn’t dangerous.

“You can take a really hard fall on your hands and knees and bounce right back up,” said Evan Jacobson, 19, a student at Irvine Valley College. “I’m not worried about getting hurt.”

Even so, most aggressive skaters have had their tales of woe from the sport. Judy Eilmes, a psychology student from Chino, quickly discovered the sport could be mentally therapeutic, but physically punishing.

About a year and a half ago, the 20-year-old broke her nose while learning to ramp ride.

“I just landed on my face,” said Eilmes, who now prefers skating to her former favorite sport, surfing. “But I knew it was my own stupidity that caused it and I knew I would come back.”

Skaters realize such injury stories may be making lawsuit-conscious officials skittish about building ramp parks for them.

“We know they think there’s a liability question,” said Dyrenforth, who notes that England and Australia have public ramp parks. “But there’s a real need for them. There’s hardly anywhere to go now.”

Skaters say it’s particularly unfair of city officials to pass laws restricting their turf and then give them no alternative place to ride.

Violating city ordinances is a misdemeanor that can carry a fine up to $1,000 and up to six months in jail.

“They complain about where we skate, then won’t give us a place to go,” said Edwards, a youth minister, whose efforts to open a regional ramp park in Escondido failed to get approval from the City Council there. “It’s not right.”

City officials admit to being concerned about insurance issues, but usually the availability of land and money are more pivotal.

In Laguna Beach, where the City Council recently opened up more area for skaters and skateboarders, officials say cash and space are the real roadblocks to a skating park.

“We know they need a place,” Mayor Kathleen Blackburn said. “But the resources may not be there.”

If cities do ever find a way to construct a ramp park, it won’t be soon enough for Bianchi and other aggressive skaters.

“It’s my heart and soul,” Bianchi said. “It’s my passion.”