Royal Road Dirt Jumps Made Lives Better

By Erik Rosenmeier        

My whole life I have walked, biked, and driven by a plot of land on Royal Road. I would see it on my way home from school, practice, or rehearsal, but, like most other people in the town, it never occurred to me that it could have any utility. That is, until the summer of 2020, when my friends and I brought our shovels, rakes, facemasks, and buckets down to that plot of land to build dirt jumps on which to ride our bikes. Most of us spent four to five hours a day there, meticulously crafting takeoffs and landings. It was our outlet, and the only one we had in a time when all other activities had been shut down. 

The community surrounding what was becoming known as “the jumps” got bigger and bigger. In just a few months, regular visitors to the jumps had expanded beyond my circle of friends. Little kids were riding the smaller jumps on bikes. By the end of the summer, a forgotten place had been transformed into a space bursting with friendship, inventiveness, and joy. 

In late April of 2021, concerns about people making noise at night, the jumps’ proximity to houses, and worries about the town’s liability for injuries started to grow. When a noise complaint was filed by a resident of Royal Road, the town sent people to destroy what we had built. 

Though I think these concerns were valid, I feel there were better actions that could have been taken to address them. A curfew could have been imposed on the area could have put ended noise at night while letting people use the jumps during the day. As for liability, there are plenty of public spaces designed for people to do dangerous things that absolve the town’s liability for injury, like skateparks. The jumps could become something akin to a skatepark, a place that isn’t the potential source of a lawsuit, where people go to exercise, spend time with each other, and have fun. Both parties can win in this situation. Destroying the jumps is not how. 

My friends and I are still fighting to get the jumps back in all the ways we can, and through this fight I have begun to realize what we had actually created. We started an online petition that has been signed by 984 people. To organize ourselves and our resources, we held a Zoom meeting attended by all different types of people, from members of the New England Mountain Biking Association to a little boy, no older than seven, who unmuted his mic to tell us what the jumps meant to him, how happy he was to go there each day, and what a difference they made in his life. We weren’t just building dirt jumps, we were building a space where people could come to be happy, to be a part of something.

As with most things in local politics, things haven’t moved quickly. No official decision has been made, and the jumps have been left to rot while we wait. What was once an epicenter for joy, creativity, and togetherness is now in ruins, the empty lot it was before any jumps were built. Still, I have hope. My friends and I believe the jumps could still one day be the beam of light they were to me and so many others, but this time with a set of rules that works for everyone in the Belmont community.

To those who have read this far, the fact you are listening means more than you know. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to email me: erikrosenmeier@gmail.com

Erik Rosenmeier is a senior at Belmont High School.