Urban riding snowballed. Around Salt Lake, spots that were once frequented by a stealthy few soon got blown out by legions of J.P. and Jeremy protégés, skiers and city kids looking to make a name for themselves. Property got damaged, kids got hurt, cops were called, spots were shut down. New spots had to be forged.
Some of them, like a big gap-to-rail at the front of Salt Lake's Olympus Park, took three years and misdemeanor-level crimes to "build."
"We were getting cocky because we had all this gear: cordless grinders, police scanners, night vision goggles, everything -- full warfare," Walker says. "We put on tactical vests and headsets with radios, masks so you can't see your face, goggles for all the sparks.
"Usually we'd go at midnight or 2 a.m. This was on a main street and we went at 10 [p.m.]. All of a sudden, a cop comes into the parking lot. We bury our stuff, then hide out for three hours and wait to escape. Cops at all the exits. Mack Dawg buried himself in the park. We eventually found a hole in the fence and made a run for it. Then we came back and [sawed off the knobs] in broad daylight. I had the cover of Future on that rail."
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