The parking lot was fairly empty, and the only thing one could see upon entering the building was construction. I wondered if the place was even open and functioning. 

But after venturing further inside, I saw it—the Flowrider. 

The Dream Xtreme sports complex, (3443 Laguna Blvd, Suite #115, in Elk Grove) opened in 2008. It is home to trampolines, paintballing, rock climbing and, most surprisingly, an indoor surfing simulator, the Flowrider. 

The Dream Xtreme Website boasts that the Flowrider is the first of its kind in Northern California. “Flowboarding is a cross platform sport with the look of surfing, the feel of snowboarding, and the tricks of skate and wakeboarding,” it says. 

The first indicator that this was going to be a rough Friday afternoon was the Release of Liability form I signed. It stated, “Flowboard riding activities entail known and unknown risks such as falling and slipping into high speed water, which can cause serious bodily injury, and which no amount of care can prevent.” 

And after walking into what felt like a muggy terrarium, smelled like an highly chlorinated pool and looked like an intimidating foreign challenge, I began to think more carefully about what I had just signed. 

The Flowrider has two broad and long lanes set up at a steep incline. Flowing from the bottom to the top are extremely powerful jets, creating a thick layer of rapidly moving water. 

“Oh, God”  were the first words that ran through my head.

I had been imagining the somewhat gentle wave pool from Water World. 

Nevertheless, my friends and I bought a half hour of flowboarding time for $15.

After suiting up in board shorts and tank tops, we took a look at those already boarding. On one lane was a group of eight-year-old girls body boarding and on the other some extremely muscular surfing “pros.” 

Joining the eight-year-olds, I asked one jokingly if the boarding was scary. With a quick glance of annoyance in my direction, she replied, “Obviously not, duh!” 

I was now officially intimidated.

I watched as my friends lay down on the body boards and pushed themselves off from the loading area. They stayed in the middle of the rapid for about 20 seconds before being toppled over and whooshed up and over the top of this “wave.” 

Then it was my turn. 

I timidly stepped onto the “Wet Zone” loading area. The attendant explained to me that to steer myself, I must lean side to side and put my legs into the water to stay in place. 

With that, I positioned myself on the board and wiggled into the forceful water. Immediately carried halfway up the lane, I had to use all my muscles to cling onto the board and stay out of the loud rushing water. 

Water spewed in every direction and into my eyes. (I even lost a contact in this ordeal.) I could hear my friends’ barely audible shouts of laughter.

After about 40 seconds, my body board went too far to the left and I tipped over. The water flung me around, pushing me all the way up and onto a rubber landing. 

Thoroughly soaked and disoriented, I had newfound respect for the surfers in the next lane.  Yet with each turn, I had more and more fun. There was a thrill in not knowing when I might topple over or in trying to get up on my knees and stay balanced. 

While my friends quickly moved on to the standing surfboard, I decided to leave well enough alone and continue body boarding until our very last round. 

With barely any instructions I stood on the board and once again wiggled into the water. Instantaneously the board, along with my left leg, shot back onto the loading area, while the current pulled the rest of my body in the opposite direction. 

After a very bewildering few seconds, I found myself on the rubber landing. When I stood up and started walking I limped—my left knee could barely support any weight. Too bad I’d signed that waiver.  

One lost contact, a bruised knee, some strained necks and ankles, and two missing bracelets later, my friends and I hobbled out to the still deserted parking lot. 

Despite the beating our bodies had  taken, we all agreed that this was an activity we wanted to try again. 

Maybe next time we’d throw in an hour of paintball in spite of “known and unknown risks such as injury to the eye (including blindness), fractures, and heart ailments which no amount of care can prevent.” 

Perhaps we were even on the road to becoming action sport junkies.