A BMX Repost when Sacha was a teenager.
The dirt.
The riders.
The jumps.
Riding BMX dirt trails means you will fall before flying over the jumps.
Often.
Calculated risks.
The taste of dirt.
Costly repairs.
All in the name of The desire to fly on wheels.
It is beautiful to watch.
Ballet on an earthy stage, leaves for tulle, steel for grace.
When watching it, I catch my breath. Their music: the sound of the bike’s chain hissing with speed, and their voices echoing fear and doubt, mingled with swear words and glorious hoots.
BMX is about training. Hours and hours of finding the right landing
spot, how to hold the pedals, how to fly with the bike and not over
it. Like ballet, the riders make it look effortless and graceful… they tempt you to grab a bike and soar.
The ballerina knows the pink satin-toe shoe is not just a pretty thing.
Her toes bled before they took her to new heights.
BMX dirt riders see the price of the dance as the taste of dirt.
However, Sacha has reassured me that concrete has a more complex taste.
Building up to these vertical jumps is a series of little bumps and turns
to build up speed (photo above). Once you go over the first major bump,
you rarely pedal again. Gathering speed, therefore, is most important. Once the rider goes over the jump, he must hold his feet on the pedals in a certain position or risk having them broken off on landing. Also, you cannot land on the peeks when riding (or flying) over these sharp, steep dirt jumps. You must go over them.
Sacha loves riding BMX dirt, as it is called. Last weekend, he was determined that it was the day to face a new challenge. The vertical parallel: Two jumps side by side, when the rider goes up the vertical side he sways over to the opposite landing, verses going over and straight down. A rider must have all the elements in place and a helluva great deal of sped height and guts.
Sacha told me that in this jump, you have to have “the balls” (his words)
to take the leap of faith. Or, as the NIKE ad says: Just do it.
As he rode, I saw in his eyes that he was going for the parallel vertical jumps. I knew he did not know where he was going to land… the jump is angled, so it is hard to know until you are up in the air the first time you do it; you gotta go for it. I took one last photo (above) before the lead into the parallel jumps, and then I put my camera down; I wanted to see it without my lens in front of my face and watched.
He did it.
He went UP and over, then crashed on landing.
Sprawled out, bike twisted, dirt on his face. I cheered! I assumed and was right that the pain from the fall was worth every bit of the agony of his glory. He did it! Broken handlebars and broken brakes, but not a single bone broken, nor ego bruised. He beamed happiness. Everyone went running over to him. I clapped!
I loved it. Strange but true, I was proud and thrilled for Sacha. I could taste the dirt in my mouth. I wish I had known about BMX dirt riding when I was young(er). I would have had the balls to do it, too. Ballet can keep its tulle and pink satin shoes; give me earthy dirt.
Watch out, Chase Hawk.
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