DIY Skatepark Brings Jolt of Energy to Old Town

The action at the Q-Side skatepark is heating up. Skaters are shooting the quarter-pipe, flying through space in a blur of spins and flips and kicks. The air echoes with the roar of wheels, the clack of boards, and howls of admiration as the skaters cheer each other on.

A couple dozen skaters have gathered here on a September afternoon to check out the park that's suddenly sprouted in a gritty part of Old Town still recovering from the pandemic.

"Skating is an incredible sport," says Willis Kimbel, a Portland pro skater who's the unofficial godfather of Q-Side. "It brings so much more than you can imagine. It brings inclusiveness. It brings creativity. This place is more than just a skatepark. And this is just the beginning. Believe me, we're just getting started."

Q-Side is a DIY project, built by a scrappy band of volunteers under the laidback leadership of Kimbel. Since its under-the-radar launch in June, the skaters have poured a massive quarter-pipe and added an impressive array of ramps, hills, and other features designed to appeal to skaters of all ages and abilities.

Q-Side is taking shape in an area that has long struggled with homelessness, drugs, and disorder. Across the street is the Royal Palm Hotel, which once provided transitional housing to low-income residents suffering from mental illness and drug addiction. Today the hotel stands shuttered and empty. People who once might have lived there now sometimes camp overnight in front of it.

The space Q-Side occupies used to be a parking lot. But the pandemic hit the block hard, hollowing out the neighborhood's offices and storefronts. The lot, which is owned by Prosper Portland, the city's economic development agency, was pockmarked by potholes, puddles, and broken glass. Then local business owners and nonprofits contacted Anne Hill, the director of the city's Public Environment Management Office (PEMO), which runs the Problem Solvers network, an initiative aimed at making public spaces more vibrant. Did she have any ideas?

A lightbulb flashed in Hill's mind. She had recently visited the Burnside Skatepark, the legendary DIY park under the east end of the Burnside Bridge. She noticed how the skaters took care of their turf. She saw no drug-dealing, no camping, no trash. Maybe, she thought, a skatepark could bring fresh energy to Old Town.

Together with Kimbel, the Old Town Community Association, and a slew of city agencies, Hill hashed out a plan for the Old Town lot. The City would keep ownership and put up a fence. The skaters would build the park themselves.

"What they did was give us a chance," says Kimbel.

Since then, the park has proven to be a boon for Portland skaters, including homeless youths served by p:ear, a social service nonprofit located just a couple blocks away. Skateboarding's outlaw roots hold a strong appeal to street kids, says Beth Burns, director of p:ear, which maintains a collection of boards that clients can check out for free. P:ear also offers classes in skating and skateboard repair. "This neighborhood needs more spaces where kids can do sports," she says. "Q-Side has brought joy and fun and creativity to a part of town that has really struggled."

Skateboarding has a strong sense of community, which also appeals to street kids, says Violet Aveline, safe space coordinator at p:ear. "Portland has a strong, vibrant skating community that's very welcoming," she says. "Our clients feel like they belong."

That sense of community is one reason why skaters work hard to be good stewards of their space. "We're always being told, 'You can't skate here, you can't skate there,'" says Kimbel. "So when we get a place to call our own, we take care of it. There's not a shard of glass here. One guy sweeps the broom and as soon as he stops, someone else takes over. Everybody wants to contribute and be part of this."

"Honestly, the skatepark is the best thing that's happened to that corner in years," says Robert Jungic, who runs Monte Rossa Coffee, just down the street from the park. "I like that it brings energy, it brings people into the neighborhood, gives them a reason to come here. I see all kinds of people skating, from kids who are six years old to guys older than me."

The skatepark is a key component of a wider initiative that Hill and PEMO have launched with the Old Town association to recharge the vibe on the streets. Using the principles of human centered design, they've put up murals to deter tagging, strung up fairy lights to cheer up dreary corners, and painted lamp posts red in Chinatown and pink near Voodoo Donuts. They also removed a set of dragon sculptures from 2006 that were intended to celebrate Chinese culture but were regarded as offensive by many in the Chinese community. The sculptures attracted vandalism and nuisance behavior and became symbols of frustration.

"The skate park's been very positive," says Jessie Burke, chair of association. "It brings a whole new generation to Old Town. The skaters rallied their network and built it themselves. I see little kids out there joining in."

The park is named for Pat Quirke, a legendary fixture in the Northwest scene who inspired many skaters with his daredevil moves and outsized personality. The suffix "side" is derived from the Burnside park, which has inspired DIY parks around the world, such as Riverside, Seaside, Southside, and so on.

Back at the park, a skater with Skate Like a Girl stands on top of a giant shipping container at the lip of a formidable ramp. Taking a deep breath, she bombs down the incline with a whoop of delight.

"That's what it's all about," says Kimbel. "Contagious inspiration."