Co-workers get new way to bond: A crash course

Abigail Goldman

Friday, Aug. 17, 2007 | 7:26 a.m.

What white-collar shark doesn't seem a little more likable after a bottle's been broken over his head? Where's the cloying cubicle mate who doesn't look darling dangling off the back of a hovering helicopter? And how better for co-workers to bond than by jumping off a building together? One by one. For fun.

Chuck Borden, professional stuntman , has a dream: To light the suit-and-tie set on fire. Then hit them with a car. Then send them sailing through a window.

Welcome to StuntWorld.

This is Borden's brainchild, a Las Vegas stunt school where businesspeople will learn to defy death. Where companies will book half-day retreats, all in search of that social cement - fear that unites.

"If you want to do a team building activity, this is the ultimate," Borden says. "The people you insulted by the coffee this morning are now responsible for your life."

A stuntman is only as good as his spotters and safety team, Borden says. He's 45 and he's spent more than half his life at the mercy of others. He's jumped off buildings and bridges, flipped flaming cars, steered trucks over cliffs, driven head - on into trains, been attacked by wolves, been blown up, been hit by cars, been set on fire and been strapped to the end of a rope attached to a helicopter flying through downtown Los Angeles.

He has yet to break a bone. (Although he says he did twist his ankle walking to the ATM once.)

At StuntWorld, set to open in late September, students will run through a stunt course with only their office mates, and a few professional stuntmen, to support them. There are schools to train stuntmen, but Borden says this will be the first geared toward the layman.

In one corner, a full-size fiberglass helicopter replica will hang from the ceiling for students to rappel from, roughly 20 feet to the floor. (The helicopter is a gift from former sheriff candidate Jerry Airola, who owes his own stunt career to Borden's connections.)

In another corner sits the pneumatic press, a device movie directors use to send people hurling backward after, say, a bomb goes off. It's little more than a machine built to deliver massive bursts of air, which students will ride for several feet before landing on a safety pad.

Students will also be given the opportunity to set an arm or a leg on fire.

Then they can practice being hit by cars or free falling from buildings.

And there's a lengthy zipline that terminates through a mock window, among other attractions.

"This is obviously some pretty good peril," Borden says.

The cost is $400 per person for a half day, $725 for a full day and $1,150 for a car chase program with simulated chase scenes and a car flip.

Expensive, Borden admits, but not the kind of activity you necessarily want to scrimp on. A quality landing pad costs thousands, and Borden's clients are "going to be off the ground whether they like it or not."

So far, the stuntman has invested about $25,000. He expects to spend from $200,000 to $250,000 on the project.

The place is going to be fool proof, he says. Next week, insurance appraisers will decide whether they agree.

Borden's already booked tentative clients, mainly from California, in town for a convention.

But not every businessperson is welcome, Borden says.

"I'm not taking people with a heart condition."