Down a dirt road in rural North Boulder, jugglers gather every week at the Boulder Circus Center for a few hours of catching, dropping and camaraderie. Clubs arc through the air, beanbags hit the ground and people cheer when someone nails a new trick. This is the Boulder Juggling Club — free to join and a home base for everyone from world-record chasers to first-timers.
“People have this idea that you have to be a good juggler to go to the juggling club,” says Chris Jost, the group’s “de facto leader” who has been involved since 2016. “But I’m here to say that you don’t even need to juggle. All you have to do is show up and talk to people, and no one will think you're weird, or at least not any weirder than the rest of us.”
Founded nearly two decades ago by a few passionate circus folk, the club meets weekly on Sundays from 6 to 9 p.m., and often hosts outdoor gatherings in local parks when the weather’s nice. What started as a training space for a niche hobby has grown into a social hub, creative outlet and emotional lifeline for dozens of Boulder residents.
"Jugglers are like the anti-gatekeepers. Every juggler wants so badly for more people to juggle," said Percy Murray, who picked up juggling in January shortly after moving to the city from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. "Jugglers provide a great sense of community. That’s one of the biggest reasons I keep coming back.”
The club also serves as the organizing force behind the Boulder Juggling Festival, which returns for its 19th year July 4-6. Hosted at three local venues, the weekend-long event features open jams, beginner workshops, juggling games and a Saturday night public show, all rooted in the same spirit of silliness that defines the group.
"Picture a gym full of hundreds of people throwing stuff at the same time," said Nathan Albu, a mechanical engineer who’s been in the Boulder Juggling Group for two years. "It’s a wild spectacle when you first walk in, but surprisingly, it’s not intimidating because the culture is so friendly. You can talk to people, but if you just stand in the corner and do your own thing, that’s just as welcome."
Highly contagious hobby
What is it about juggling that hooks people? For many in the Boulder Juggling Club, it starts as curiosity but quickly spirals into something more like obsession.
“Juggling is very contagious,” Jost jokes. “For instance, we recently diagnosed Percy with juggler and, unfortunately, it’s terminal.”
For longtime members, that diagnosis rings true. “Once you catch the juggling bug, it becomes what you need,” says Bekah Smith, who made her living as a professional juggler for a decade through a combination of teaching and performing a one-woman circus show. “It becomes a part of your identity.”
The people most susceptible to catching it, club members argue, are often the ones drawn to difficult things for the sheer joy of trying.
“Juggling is such a silly, almost useless skill, and not everyone wants to spend so much time learning something that doesn’t have practical value,” Smith says. “Juggling draws people who are prone to learning something just because it’s fun to learn new, challenging things.”
On any given night, seasoned performers pass clubs alongside newcomers still getting the hang of three-ball cascades. But the exchange of tricks isn’t the only support in the room. Smith often brings her infant son, Dasko, to practice, and shared that when she needed help after giving birth, the club showed up.
“From a community perspective, juggling saved my life,” Smith says. “I just had a baby, and I needed meals cooked for me for a few weeks, and a whole bunch of jugglers showed up and made meals for me.”
That kind of support is rare, especially for people in their 20s and 30s, who often find themselves between life stages, past school and not yet surrounded by family. For many, the juggling club offers a third space to go after work.
“This is what people used to get from church 50 or 60 years ago,” Albu says. “Having a place to go where it’s the same, consistent community, and they’re all welcoming is huge.”
‘A family reunion’
That spirit of inclusion is at the core of the 19th annual Boulder Juggling Festival, taking place at the Boulder Circus Center, Shining Mountain Waldorf School and Junkyard Social Club. The weekend is a juggling homecoming for veterans and a welcoming entry point for the curious.
“You are seeing people of all ages and people from around the country,” Smith says. “All of my juggling uncles, aunts and grandparents will be there. It’s like a family reunion — but the kind you want to go to.
While there’s plenty of technical skill on display, the tone remains relaxed and egalitarian. No one is above anyone else, and that, Jost believes, is what makes it so powerful.
“I do think anyone can juggle,” he says. “But I’d also say 99 percent or more of jugglers thought they couldn’t do it initially. It is empowering to learn something you were convinced you could never do. Everything else is easy if the thing you thought was impossible becomes possible, and watching people realize that is a big part of why I love teaching juggling.”
“It’s kind of a beautiful metaphor for life, too,” Jost adds after a brief pause. “Juggling helps you realize you are never done learning and growing.”
UP IN THE AIR: Boulder Juggling Festival. July 4-6, Boulder Circus Center, 4747 26th St., Boulder, Shining Mountain Waldorf School, 999 Violet Ave., Boulder, and Junkyard Social Club, 2525 Frontier Ave. Suite A, Boulder. $20 per day for gym access | $50 for full weekend gym access | $25 for show tickets ($15 for children under 12) | Full schedule here