It all started in the backyard of 65 Brock Street in September 2003.  A raccoon had been tearing up the garbage, so a fall trap had been tied from the backyard maple.  As a result of that raccoon, people are ropeboarding all over the world.  It took days before a few original riders swung on the rope.  Soon after that we attached some scrap wood to the bottom.  Shove-its and grabs were now available but the grip wasn't there without a handle.  The scrap wood from the bottom was turned into a makeshift wakeboard handle by drilling holes in both ends.  The next step was to attach an old skate deck to the bottom of the rope.  From that moment forward ropeboarding became our lives. 

The following months all we did was ride, invent new tricks, wear ropes, break handles, and design a more durable ropeboard.  The first ropeboard may have only lasted a day with a new design the next, but regardless of how many times it broke, we rode.

Over time a ropeboard park was put together at 65 Brock Street.  We had rails, boxes and a dog house that was used for grinds, stalls, tricks and drop-ins.  After those broke and faded away, a swing set that was used for stalls, taps, tricks and drop-ins.  We also used the tree as a main source of combos and variations. 
This was not achieved in one day; it took months of broken prototypes, bruised asses, egos and hands before the ropeboard (as we know it) came about.  From there the sport has been taken to new levels everyday. 
More than any other board sport, you have a bond with your board, you build it, maintain it, ride it and risk your life on it.

The summers that we ride are the best summers of our lives.  We ride everywhere we can; beside busy roads, in public parks, on bridges, trees of all shapes and sizes.  We often film and take pictures.  Lucky for us we have a talented film maker in the group who put together a couple summers of footage and created the first ropeboard film “An Urban Legend”.

The Brock Street crew has advanced the sport through a couple of years and still advances it today.  Eventually all the grass in the backyard was dead, the crew grew bigger and some originals moved on.  Some riders remained; riding till their hands bled, ripping calluses off like band-aids and hopping on for more.  There were many days when riding was all we wanted to do. Zero gravity was achieved at 65 Brock and once we tasted it we were hooked.