2,500 bales

There will be plenty of time to dissect the results from Monday’s municipal election in future weeks—plenty of time to sort out what the electorate was saying and to whom.

Instead I will use my space this week to line up behind the many folks so full of pride and gratitude this week to the Parks family—Kolby, Krisha, Nancy and Gary—and the dozens, if not hundreds, of folks who volunteered to help them this weekend to make the first-ever Gravity Fest event a smashing success.

The spectacle of the riders descending Church Street was positively riveting.

First one, then a couple more riders rounding the corner at the top of the ridge that looms over the town. All on skateboards propelling themselves down the steep hill toward the town at speeds ranging in and around 80 kilometres per hour. It seemed both beautiful and reckless. I couldn’t turn away. Watching these riders then attempt to negotiate the hard left turn onto York St. toward the finish line was truly captivating.

Many tactics were attempted—some tried to puff themselves up to create a sail effect to slow them down. Others dragged a brake-pad-encrusted sneaker along the wet asphalt; but more often than not, this only resulted in losing the board and sliding on their well-protected butts along the pavement. Others simply waited too long—crashing helplessly into the straw bales stacked two-high around every corner. The best, however, managed to get low drag a hand on the inside and slickly round the corner—toward victory. Street luge and longboard are described as extreme sports—both as a badge and a way of marginalizing participants.

These events feature the adrenaline rush of speed, the technical proficiency of man mastering a machine (albeit a primitive one) and the pure fun of a race among friends fuelled only by gravity.

It may be extreme—but this sport has found a home among many kindred spirits in Prince Edward County.

It was more than just the participants who shone on the weekend, however. Kolby Parks has been competing around the world in street luge for several years now. He and buddies Nick Kamink, Will Condon and Ira Hewton got started by propelling themselves down little-used roads around the County to test their boards and their courage.

Kolby wasn’t satisfied with just participating—he decided that an International Gravity Sports Association event ought to be staged in Prince Edward County. Throughout the summer he, his sister Krisha and parents Gary and Nancy and others, including uber-volunteer Lisa Lindsay, began the momentous challenge of winning approval for the untried “extreme” event. They produced a comprehensive package detailing information about safety, security and economic spinoffs. With Lindsay’s background in managing the successful Prince Edward County Marathon the hurdles were crossed elegantly and professionally. Council gave its blessing and the event was a go.

The County could not have imagined a better-run and organized event. Volunteers manned every cross street, ensuring that traffic circulated around the route. Not everyone was happy with having to wait to cross Church St. but most were patient—others distracted by the spectacle of leather-clad young folks whizzing past them, just centimetres off the pavement.

Every post, every telephone pole, every hydrant was shielded in hard foam in the event a rider veered off course. The entire course was lined with straw bales. Not just at key corners—the entire route up to the top of the escarpment.

Where I grew up, if you were able, you took hay off in June and July. Mostly in small square bales, neatly piled on a wagon and then placed on an elevator to be transported into a hot and steamy mow. As I recall now, 2,500 would fill an average barn. It was a winter’s worth of bales.

The organizers of Gravity Fest lined the entire course with 2,500 bales of straw on Friday. Each bale a little heavier on Sunday, having absorbed a days worth of rain.

On Sunday night after most had gone home Kolby and Garry Parks, along with Lisa Lindsay and about a dozen friends and fellow farmers, picked up a winter’s worth of bales off the streets of Picton in the dark, damp and chilly night.

It was a job perhaps made easier because they had just pulled off something really quite remarkable.

rick@wellingtontimes.ca