A couple of years ago around this time I was asked to participate in a round-table discussion with a variety of adventure sports athletes competing at the Teva Mountain Games in Vail, sort of a “state of the industry” dialogue that brought together rock climbers, mountain bikers, whitewater kayakers and the like.
Without a set agenda, the open forum eventually evolved into a discussion about how these fringe-sport athletes could best reap the benefits associated with more mainstream recognition. They didn’t need to be famous, but the idea of making enough money to live up to their status as “professionals” in their chosen field (or stream) held a certain appeal.
Sure, there are those in the adventure-sports world who have achieved a modest amount of recognition among a more mainstream audience – the Glen Plakes, Tao Bermans, Mike Klosers and Shaun Whites who have inked the right deals with the Nikes, Red Bulls, Mountain Dews and other big-money marketing machines.
But for every Brad Ludden with an ACG sticker on his forehead and reality television pilot on the horizon, there are 500 kayakers with mad skills and nothing but room to rent on their helmets. Problem is, no one seems to know why.
It seems you can’t turn on the television without seeing a kayak strapped to the roof of some all-wheel-drive river-shuttling machine for sale, or some mountain bikers making their way back to car camp. Climbers, skiers, snowboarders – their images are everywhere, their presumed personalities pitching products alongside the likes of John Elway and Carmelo Anthony, even as they remain anonymous and mute.
The greatest challenge, as I see it, emanates from the locations most of these incredibly challenging sports take place. It’s sort of like that old “tree falling in the forest” riddle. Someone like Jason Ivanic can accomplish the unfathomably difficult task of solo skiing every 14,000-foot peak in Colorado in a single year, and no one hears a sound because no one is there to witness it.
It wasn’t until Aron Ralston cut off his arm in order to survive a slot-canyon climbing mishap that anyone ever heard of him. And I would wager most of those who now have would require about the same amount of time as he spent stuck in Blue John Canyon just to find it on the map.
The other contributor to the obscurity issue comes from the sheer difficulty of the sports. To anyone who has never rolled a kayak, skied a 45-degree mountain face or led a 5.8 climb – which is to say, the vast majority of the world – it’s virtually impossible to distinguish the difference between accomplishing those standard pro maneuvers and the really challenging feats like a “Helix” or a 5.12. It’s hard enough just trying to grasp the nomenclature.
It’s tough to say how much has changed since that panel first met. Although the Teva Games have managed to endure and expand their reach by bringing adventure sports into a fan-friendly environment, new events like this week’s Nevada Passage adventure race have evolved to promote the rugged places – if not necessarily the people – through America’s favorite television format (“reality”) and new publications such as The Denver Post’s “Outdoor Extremes” have popped up in recognition of these adventurous athletes and their achievements.
On the decidedly more urban “action sports” side of the equation, the X Games continue to set viewership records in winter and summer, BMX guru Dave Mirra has become a fixture on MTV and the Dew Tour – the first season-long competitive action sports series – has gone the way of professional baseball with its first official “spring training” camp scheduled to kick off the second season next month in Pennsylvania.
These sports and their stars undeniably have a long way to go before becoming recognized as more than daredevil stunts performed by a bottomless well of replaceable stunt clones, but equally undeniable progress has been made as awareness seeps slowly into the mainstream alongside news of tainted home run records and overpaid egomaniacs throwing temper tantrums in the NBA playoffs.
You need passion to play as an underpaid and often unpaid professional, and I’d like to think someday the passion that allows these sports to continue to grow and thrive will ultimately do the same for the athletes who represent them. It’s more than merely an image. It is, in reality, an industry.
Staff writer Scott Willoughby can be reached at 303-820-1993 or swilloughby@denverpost.com.
