Why has it taken more than a decade to build a skater’s paradise in Boston? 

The story of the Charles River Skate Park starts back in Ancient Greece with Aesop, and more specifically, his fable of The Tortoise and the Hare. You know how it goes. Slow and steady wins the race.

Two thousand or so years later, in Massachusetts, a local sculptor named Nancy Schön figured Aesop’s lesson could serve as a muse to those running the Boston Marathon. And so in Copley Square, Schön’s bronze sculpture poses history’s cockiest rabbit like it’s ready to explode through its spring-loaded stance, almost as if acknowledging that he is doomed to eat the dust of the turtle crawling comfortably ahead.

Schön’s sculpture, as it were, has also inspired a different breed of athlete. Over the years, skateboarders have incorporated the attraction into their infinite concrete playground, or at least they did until it soon became another off-limit spot ripe for riding. While she was upset about kids skating on her sculpture, Schön also empathized. Seen as a nuisance–or worse, a threat to public safety–skateboarders had no place to call their own.

The sculptor knew that change was needed. Thus, the idea for a skate park was born. This was more than 10 years ago.

At the time, the Charles River Conservancy (CRC), a nonprofit in Cambridge, spearheaded an effort to get a park built below the Zakim Bridge. The location alone would make it a gem. Hoping to raise $1.1 million to get it done by 2006, the conservancy strapped on their helmets and pads, and dropped into the project like it was a halfpipe at the X-Games.

Fast-forward to 2013. The parcel promised to skateboarders remains an industrial wasteland, embarrassingly sandwiched between floating duck boats full of tourists and trains leaving North Station. There’s but a silhouette of a kid skating on a big yellow sign that’s been there for as long as the promise of rails and ramps. SHRED AHEAD, it says, for this is the future home of the Charles River Skate Park.

It’s been a slow process, to say the least, and the obstacles that have prevented construction are numerous, complex, and in many cases unforeseen. If Aesop were around, he’d probably conclude that shit happens, maybe tell us to be patient. Nevertheless, we thought it was about time to dig in and see what the hell is taking so long.



Blame it on toxic soil. The ground beneath the Zakim won’t exactly open up and suck you deep into the depths of some cancerous hell, but according to Renata von Tscharner, founder of the CRC, the dirt has been a total nag. According to her, you could probably build a skyscraper on this sort of terrain, but things becomes more complicated with a project like a skate park. It’s not exactly virgin soil. Due to generations of construction and mass transit in the area, no one really knows what lies beneath the surface–railroad remnants, tires, bodies–until you break through it. “You’re dealing with almost an archaeological dig,” says von Tscharner.

Conrad Crawford, director of external affairs at the state’s Department of Conservation and Recreation (DCR), says the plan for cleaning soil underneath the bridge must be “airtight.” A legal understanding between DCR and CRC officials says the former will be chiefly responsible for operating and maintaining the park upon completion. “There have been a lot of uses on that land and the soil situation is not clear,” says Crawford.

So how to deal with that pesky, poisonous earth? Digging it up and dumping it in the Charles might have been suitable in the halcyon days of environmentally ignorant bliss, but today we’re much greener. And so the plan has been to pry it up, pre-load the dirt and everything else into the middle of the site, shape it, bury the nasty stuff beneath three-feet of concrete, and, finally, bring in new, clean materials to surround the edges.

“It’s an orderly process we had to think through along the way,” says Jason Lederer, the project’s manager with the CRC.

This hasn’t been such an ordeal elsewhere. In Philadelphia, for example, the beloved FDR Skate Park was basically born out of a partnership between the DIY skater ethos and municipal adequacy.

“It’s been long enough,” says Jimmy Lake, owner of Corner Store Skate Co., an upstart skate and apparel brand based out of Cambridge. Lake has been living and skating around Boston for seven years. He continues: “New York managed to build like eight parks or something. Philly has built parks. Every other major city has managed to get it done.”

Here, our concrete playpen seemingly needs blessings, hugs, and kisses from every political body from Beacon Hill to Cambridge. Asked about this bureaucratic labyrinth, Lederer explains that plans need to be vetted by a range of entities including the Department of Transportation, the Department of Environmental Protection, the DCR, the Massachusetts Water Resources Authority, the Cambridge Conservation Commission, and the MBTA.



You can blame the economy.

In February 2004, von Tscharner wrote in the Boston Business Journal that her conservancy was hoping to raise $1.1 million for skate park construction, with a tentative opening date in 2006. Between then and 2008, they were able to raise a whopping $2.4 million more than what they’d initially hoped for, very much thanks to generous gifts from the Lynch Foundation, the Boston Redevelopment Authority, the state, the City of Cambridge, and others. These are impressive figures; currently, von Tscharner says their annual budget is around $400,000.

Following the financial meltdown of 2008, the CRC and DCR agreed to swap responsibilities, making the latter responsible for building, and putting the former in charge of subsequent operations. “DCR was concerned they wouldn’t have sufficient funds to maintain the skate park,” says von Tscharner. The joint decision was reached in light of a 2009 announcement that the project could receive an additional $2 million in federal funding. When that money fell through, though, the departments switched assignments yet again.

Likely for the good of the project, everyone eventually reverted back to their original roles. Had the DCR been tasked with construction, the number of potential designers they could enlist would’ve been limited to firms registered as approved vendors in Massachusetts. The CRC has more options. Still, there was another issue brewing over who owned the polluted land.

Before the DCR can operate a park, one must be built. Before it can be built, though, the DCR needs ownership of the property, which, as of now, is still owned by the Department of Transportation. Crawford says the land transfer is in its final stages, and concedes that the procedure has been “a significant reason for the delay.” “I’m not sure that information regarding the status of the property and ownership of the property were fully comprehended at the early stages,” he says. “If people had been fully aware of that, some of these issues might have been addressed earlier.”



In classic nightmarish government fashion, the procedural and licensing processes for undertaking such a massive effort as a skate park proved insanely counterintuitive. As it turns out, according to von Tscharner, “You don’t know what foundations you need to build until you actually dig in the ground.” “On the other hand,” she says, “we needed to show some drawings early on to funders so they could imagine.”

Upon securing seed funding, the CRC brought on the California-based Wormhoudt Inc. to help map out a master plan. But after working with Wormhoudt and the local skate community to hatch a first design, the marriage ended unceremoniously.

“It was a little bit mysterious how that relationship ended,” says Zach Wormhoudt, the firm’s principal landscape architect. “We actually opted to not continue with the project because it was not progressing in a way that made sense to either party. That’s pretty unique.” Asked where things went wrong, von Tscharner notes that Wormhoudt was not fit to “execute the [planned] design.”

Next up was the Seattle-based Grindline, which the conservancy was attracted to due to the company’s experience in cold climates. Yet the project hit another mysterious snag there. Grindline COO Matt Fluegge says that he would reach out to the conservancy during seeming standstills. It was during one of those calls, he says, that he was told the CRC was speaking with a third design firm. “We weren’t really given the chance to provide a competitive design,” says Fluegge. “If we didn’t call and check in, I don’t know that we would’ve been notified at all.”

Though such management decisions have bred skepticism in the skate community, CRC spokespeople are now confident that they will break ground this year. They made the same claim last year, but as proof this time, von Tscharner points to a large book in her office that she calls the “100 Percent Document.” Thanks to assistance from the out-of-state design firms Action Sport Design (ASD) and Stantec, these files hold meticulous instructions for putting a 40,000 square-foot state-of-the-art skate park beneath a freeway ramp in a major city on a toxic riverside foundation. They’re more than a decade in the making.



When this park gets made, if it gets made, it will be astounding. Thanks in part to $27 million in stimulus money rejuvenating the area, it will also be more than a mere skate park. In addition to spacious waterfront land, people will be able to catch concerts by the new North Bank Bridge connecting Boston and Cambridge. There will also be impressive gardens that intercept the falling rain and filter out the muck.

“Regardless of what we’re required to do, we want to do things that are going to help improve the ecological function of the area,” says Lederer. “We’re sitting next to the Charles River. We want to make sure that anything we do here also has an opportunity to contribute to its ongoing improvement.”

Skaters can expect deep bowls, plus stairs, railings, and ramps. Designers say they’re striving to create a challenging environment for pros and beginners alike. The park will also accommodate handicapped athletes. And, of course, there will be a replica tortoise and hare statue. “We want to honor [Schön],” says von Tscharner. “It’s a nice kind of symbolic closure of that struggle.”

Everyone who is directly involved seems optimistic. The CRC recently secured an environmental greenlight from the Conservation Commission of Cambridge, and the parties that need to be communicating are in full cahoots. Still, the project needs a contractor before ground can be broken. This has left some skaters skeptical that anything will happen soon.

“Maybe they’ll get it done, but I’m not really seeing it happen,” says Lake of the Corner Store Skate Co.

Though the new bowls could be a godsend, Lake says there are abandoned areas where skaters “do more maintenance than the city does.” A good start, at least in the interim, would be for authorities to allow skaters to make their own gauntlets.

“We’ve been kicked off,” says Lake, who adds that skaters are still waiting for a place to call their own.

As for the Charles River Skate Park … it looks like there will be at least one more delay. In classic New England fashion, there’s some predictably unpredictable weather on the horizon. If winter is mild, the CRC hopes to break ground before next year. Should the ground freeze and the snow fall, it will take longer.

Here’s hoping that the rainmaker above us ain’t a snowboarder.


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A quick survey of other cities–some right here in Mass–
where skateboarding dreams have become reality.

The core park here has a connecting pool section, a mini ramp,
and a vert ramp, and features the “Dome,” which packs
a 4-foot wall of concrete. There’s also a 60-foot long and 11-foot tall overhang called the “Bunker,” and a famous patch of humps called the “Amoeba.”

This waterside spot has a 5-foot spine, a beginner ollie
zone with a 4-foot quarterpipe and a 2-foot wedge,
plus a so-called intermediate fun box with a 24-foot ledge
and a kinked flat rail.

First opened in 1978, this legendary throwback is
layered in aged graffiti. In addition to the original bowl,
a recent renovation brought a street course
with ramps, halfpipes, and rails.

Atlanta’s first public skate park was built thanks to
$25,000 from Tony Hawk and is
completely hooked up, offering bowls,
curbs, and smooth-rolling concrete mounds.

The extensive street course here flows from a 7-foot deep bowl,
while the park is made of treated wood
and covered with composite. There’s also a competition-sized vert ramp
standing at a menacing 13.5-feet tall and 40-feet wide.

Though hardly California quality, this easy-to-get-to
local destination has decent
prefab quarterpipes, a mini-ramp,
a fun box, rails, and jump ramps.

Located at the edge of Boston right before the
Dedham line, this quiet spot has a mini bowl,
something of a street course,
and an adequate starter ramp.

Just your basic plaza layout with a bowl,
but still better than
what’s currently beneath the Zakim.



3 Responses to SKATE PARK FABLES

  1. Zippo Zippo says:

    Great article but Brink! should be in the pie chart at the end. Pretty steamed about it, you guys.

  2. Tom More Tom More says:


  3. Scott Silva Scott Silva says:

    I’m posting this in the hopes that this gets to you personally.

    I live in a part of Boston, MA where skateboarders take it upon themselves to build ramps for ourselves, We were promised this huge park under the Charles River bridge for over fifteen years now. After all the money being raised… Nothing happened.

    At the skatepark in my home Hyde Park. We built our own ramps years ago. Several actually. They got torn down. It was heinous. They left the ground covered in dirt an inch thick. Gravel was everywhere for weeks. They cracked the ground in multiple places with bulldozers & jack-hammers. The only person there was a little kid who tried to stop them. True story. We all showed up later & it was a mournful month. They claimed the ramps were dangerous but they were done very well. It got skated all day. Now it’s outdated and desecrated.

    Flash forward to this year… In Jamaica Plain, A few ramps were built in an abandoned floor hockey rink. Before this it was known for being a shady place. A bunch of wooden ramps were left there that were discarded and donated from parks that closed in the area. Some are still there. We’d take random wood from the building process and skate makeshift ramps.

    Well, that was fun but the boxes ended up breaking cause of the weather. People took it upon themselves to build a few out of cement. They’re perfect & incredibly awesome. I’ll post some footage if you want. There’s only one drawback. Construction people and lawyer types want to tear it down. There’s a nice sign someone posted saying “J.P. Skatepark. Skate at your own risk.” and lists a few rules. Kids use it daily.

    So I’m very worried for my skate community and myself. I fear with dread the possibility of going through another major loss like the one at Hyde Park. This park brings together skateboarders from all over the place. It’s unique from any others around. It’s our tiny-Burnside or mini-Groton. I’m so worried about it being taken down I’m reaching out for help, advice or positive exposure. Skateboarders may be seen as a reckless kind of people. We’ll never be as bad as the gangs or homeless that used to use it. Now it’s a place filled with pride and accomplishment. I learn new tricks there that I never thought I could do all the time. It’s church-like to me.

    It has to stay D.I.Y. though. Local skaters hand-prints beneath it all. I wouldn’t want to have advertising banners everywhere to save it… or people from other places building the same regurgitated unnatural designs because they never set foot on a board themselves. I’m sure you know what I’m saying.

    They built a new mound at the foot of this pyramid a couple weeks back. Orchard has contributed but doesn’t deserve all the credit either. Just putting that out there. Here’s some sick footage that was shot there when this ramp dried.

    Give skaters our own spots in the city to build our own parks.
    The 15 years and 2.5 million is pathetic.
    I’ve skated this whole time. I’ve lived here my whole life.
    They want to make places for spectators… Gardens… Statues…
    Disgusting. Find money for that crap elsewhere.
    They’re using companies from across the country, who don’t know that most of us are street skaters. the three bowls in the plan aren’t even connected. There’s no flow. The new plans & the old look whack. When this project kicked off kids were throwing down their own money in the desperate hopes of this being built. I bet a lot of those kids quit skating by now.
    There’s a serious effort being made to subdue the culture and nature of skating. I’m on the front-lines and I’ll tell you first-hand we need help because for every advancement we’ve made we’ve been swept back under the rug viciously. They don’t want us in sight. They want us out of mind & existence. This is not an exaggeration.