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GOLDENDALE, Wash. — Here in the high desert east of the Cascades, where
towering windmills quietly whir overhead, skaters hurtle downhill along a
ribbon of blacktop six at a time wearing helmets and motorcycle
leathers, hay bales stacked along switchbacks for the inevitable
wipeouts.
But in the garment district in Manhattan, it is a slightly tamer story.
One day in the spring, Todd Brunengraber stepped from his office on West
39th Street. Hearing a distinct hum from newly repaved Seventh Avenue,
he turned and watched a commuter on a supersize skateboard whiz by.
The board was similar to the type he built in woodshop while growing up,
but with big, candy-colored wheels. Soon, Brunengraber, a 62-year-old
grandfather who had not set foot on a board in more than 25 years, spent
$50 for a lesson and joined a growing legion of longboarders.
This summer, he has been pushing to and from Penn Station, and each
night after work cruising a hill on his Bay Shore, N.Y., street.
“It’s a rush to get on it,” he said.
Whether on a hair-raising rural road in the Pacific Northwest or in
teeming Midtown traffic, longboards have become the fastest-growing
segment in an otherwise sluggish skateboard market. In recent years,
they have lured new participants to a pastime traditionally dominated by
teenage boys and young men performing perilous stunts.
“There’s a real neo-hippie, everybody-welcome kind of vibe to
longboarding,” said Adam Goldstein, 43, who skates with his 10-year-old
son around Manhattan.
Goldstein, who directs commercials, says he takes a longboard to commute
while working in Los Angeles or Toronto. “You can just go anywhere,” he
said.
With decks usually 34 inches or longer; trucks (axles) adapted for
easier turning; and big, soft wheels, longboards provide a smoother
skating experience than boards designed for performing tricks. Their
size and stability make longboards well suited for cruising streets and
college campuses. The price of a good longboard starts at about $150.
“There’s no stigma,” said Larry Peterson, who made 2,500 boards in a
dairy barn in Salem, Ore., last year under the brand Longboard Larry.
“It’s one of the sports where someone who’s 40 can go skate with someone
who’s 13 and nobody thinks it’s weird.”
With an inclusive, do-it-yourself ethic, longboarding has grown as a
grass-roots movement mostly outside the established skateboard industry
and spread from Southern California to places like Brooklyn and Bend,
Ore.
Begun in a San Diego backyard in 1993 by a group of surfers, the
longboard maker Sector 9 has led the way. In 2008, the surf apparel
maker Billabong bought Sector 9. Sector 9 is part of an increasingly
crowded market that 10 years ago was not much more than a scattered
collection of small entrepreneurs.
While working at a skate shop in the 1990s, Brian Petrie began making
longboards from broken snowboards out of his Brooklyn apartment. The
result: Earthwing Skateboards. In 2002 a group of friends in Hagerstown,
Md., began building longboards for themselves. By 2004, they moved to
New York and settled in Brooklyn as Bustin Boards.
Zak Maytum, 19, a champion downhill and slalom skater on his longboard,
began a business making wheels and bushings from his parents’ garage in
Boulder, Colo., three years ago. Today, his company, Venom, employs two
salespeople. “Every year is bigger than the last year,” he said.
A former professional street skater, Marcus Bandy is the team manager
for Orangatang, a wheel company in Los Angeles that is popular with
longboarders.
“It’s really all new,” Bandy, 37, said about the longboard culture.
“It’s like when punk rock or hip-hop first came out. It’s a whole new
thing, and the kids are loving it.”
He added: “People are always going to create their own stuff and that’s
what’s happening here. These guys are creating skateboarding and
reinventing skateboarding.”