Ice cream is a pretty big deal in Utah County.

It's so big of a deal that several intrepid entrepreneurs are getting ice cream to the masses instead of expecting the masses to come to the ice cream.

And even in an economic downturn, even after an unusually rainy June that's continued into a somewhat rainy July, ice cream truck drivers in Provo are hopeful -- and they're multiplying.

Pam Stowe, the business license coordinator for the city, said six people have received business licenses for ice cream vending, with another one in the process. She said usually the city only has two or three of these licenses a year, so this is a big change.

It's also a sizable industry. Though no one in Provo claimed to be an expert, there is an organization -- the International Association of Ice Cream Distributors and Vendors -- that works with legislators, gives out scholarships and plans annual conferences. The spring newsletter contains a synopsis of proposals in Las Vegas to keep ice cream trucks out later and continue to allow their music, as well as asking for procedural changes for a proposed law in Oklahoma that does not allow sex offenders to operate an ice cream truck.

For Arturo Torres of Mapleton, it's just his way of paying the bills, albeit a little more important after he lost his job at Clydeco, a building supply store, a few months ago. He has been selling ice cream from the side of his van for five years and said he likes working with children, even though the people aspect is one of the hardest parts of his job.

"You have to be very patient with kids and adults," Torres said, as translated by his daughter Dayanna. Torres is from Mexico City.

He's patient with the children, because they sometimes think throwing things at his truck is fun, because they run into the street and put themselves in danger, or because they get upset when their parents won't give them money. Adults are a little harder, he said, because they get upset when they don't have money to give their children, so they tell him to leave, or they complain about the music from his truck.

But he still enjoys it. He started after moving to Mapleton from Ogden; Ogden was full of ice cream trucks, but this area wasn't, he said. Now, moving into the warm Utah summer -- if the rain ever stops -- he expects to make enough money to pay the rent and bills, he said. His business plan come winter is to ditch the ice cream and fill his van with hot foods to sell.

"We'd keep the truck and then we'd just sell something else, and in the summer we'd sell ice cream," Dayanna said.

Subhash Chander, who has been selling ice cream from his brown, very decorated little truck for 10 years in Utah County, also considered this his part-time job until he was laid off from a Maverick gas station. Now the Indian immigrant is trying to pull down enough money to pay his bills, which would work better if the sky would clear.

"If the weather is good, I make sometimes good money," he said.

He got started selling many years ago in Seattle with a friend, so the rain isn't always a deal-killer. In Utah, though, it seems to be. On days like Thursday, which was rainy, and more than half of the unusually wet month of June, business was slow to practically nil.

He still does it because it works for him. The job also is a reminder to him about his own family; he and his wife divorced, and their children are with her in India.

"I love kids," he said.

From a parental standpoint, ice cream trucks are pretty safe, said Provo Police Sgt. Matt Siufanua. He cautioned parents and drivers to make sure children weren't running out in the street or standing in a vendor's blind spot.

"I think it's just the basics," he said.