I was excited because Chaos was finally working. The previous years had felt like a lot of failures, but now we had a real team, a booking agent, and shows taking us across the country. I wanted to keep building that momentum because I believed this was how I was going to provide for our growing family.

Somewhere between Manly and Knoxville, I watched one of the wheels from my trailer shoot across the median. The trailer was loaded with frames for the largest skatepark I had designed up to that point. We had spent weeks cutting templates and assembling the “skeletons” in a machine shed I rented from a friend. We packed the remaining frames into a rented Ryder truck.

Six months after leaving a dependable job at Walmart to make a living through BMX, nearly all of my work had stopped. When I quit, Jenn and I had a mortgage, a six month old baby, and no idea how we were going to replace my paycheck. A few months earlier, I had convinced myself that Walmart might be my safe and reliable future. By the spring of 2002, it didn't feel very safe anymore.

A few months earlier, I had convinced myself that Walmart might be my safe and reliable future. By the spring of 2002, it didn't feel very safe anymore.

I found myself in what was becoming a familiar position. I was sitting in another banker’s office, trying to convince someone that providing a place for young people to ride bikes and skateboards was worth the risk.

I found myself in what was becoming a familiar position. I was sitting in another banker’s office, trying to convince someone that providing a place for young people to ride bikes and skateboards was worth the risk.

The first thing I noticed about Frank was his bike. It was a blue GT with a pink seat, and it looked small beneath him. Frank was a tall guy, and everything about him stood out from the rest of us—especially the full pads and full-face helmet. (Most of us didn’t wear much protective gear back then, if any.) I wasn’t sure what to think of him. Then he started riding.

I still have a $200,000 check made out to me. It’s dated June 4, 1997, and I’ve never cashed it because I couldn’t...

My next move probably confirmed everyone's fears. I recruited one of my friends with a pickup truck, and we drove to the local lumberyard. I spent every dollar of that graduation money on 2x4s, 2x6s, sheets of plywood, and a box of screws. My plan? Build a six-foot quarter pipe in the backyard of The Center, right next door to my parents' house.

When people ask me why I believe places like Rooted Action Park matter, my answer doesn't begin with bikes or ramps.

More than 18 years ago, I met a kid at Autumn Ramp Park who, like most of the kids that walked through the door, didn’t have much. He usually didn’t have enough money for a slice of pizza or a drink from the concession stand, but that never seemed to matter much to him. He wasn’t focused on what he didn’t have. He just wanted a place to belong. He would show up and find ways to help. He worked the cash register, swept floors, took out the trash, mopped ramps, and did whatever

Every Christmas season, people look for meaningful ways to give — ways that make a difference, not just for a day, but for years to come. At Rooted Action Park, we see firsthand how one moment of opportunity can change the entire trajectory of a kid’s life. A borrowed bike. A Saturday spent learning to drop in. A membership that gives them a safe place to ride, belong, and grow. For many kids, access to action sports isn’t just fun — it’s life-changing. Why This Campaign Matt

I wanted to take a moment to say THANK YOU! Whether you’ve given a donation, shared a post, or simply cheered us on—you’re helping make...

When I was a kid, my bike was the most important thing. It meant freedom, adventure, independence. I could pedal faster than I could run. Riding bikes with my friends consumed my time. We could carve our own paths, we could invent our own games, and challenge ourselves in ways never before imagined. Remember the first time you jumped off a curb? It felt like flying. Like you had unlocked a secret world. That’s what BMX is really about. It’s not just tricks and ramps and comp

You probably don’t think of yourself as a BMX rider. But here’s the thing... YOU are. You just forgot. Most of us learned to ride on a little BMX-style bike. It didn’t matter if it was brand new or a hand-me-down with worn-out grips—it was yours. And once you figured out how to balance and pedal away, that was it. Freedom. Independence. Adventure. You could go faster than you could run. You could carve your own paths, invent your own games, and challenge yourself in ways you

BMX is a gateway to confidence, community, and a lifetime of movement. At Rooted Action Park, we’re not just teaching kids how to...

At Rooted Action Park , we’re building more than just ramps—we’re creating a community. Our 14,000-square-foot indoor facility has...

Over the last couple of months, as I've shared my vision for this project with you, some of you have been really excited about it and have asked for a video where I tell the story of the history of Rooted Action Park and outline the vision I have for this facility so that you can share this video with your friends. So, that's what this is. You can watch the video on YouTube or you can read the written version here in this blog. Enjoy! This specific project started about six m

In today's fast-paced world, the mental health of adolescents is a growing concern. Action sports have emerged as a powerful antidote.

Rooted Action Park is a family friendly indoor action sports facility coming to the Joplin area! Promoting healthy lifestyles and...