Blisters and Bunnyhopping
“I’m doing it!”I said to my brother.
“You’re insane!”
I said, “I know, but I’m still doing it!”
Today marked an important benchmark in not only BMX, but my ability to see a bad idea and commit to doing it 100%. Something that would set me up for the rest of my stupid testosterone-fuelled life.
I stole two bricks from the storage space at the side of our house. My brother ripped a branch off the next-door-neighbour’s tree. Then we took the equipment out in to the street, found a good place for it – a good place was somewhere which had less gravel just in case I did land on my face – and set it up: the bricks either side and the branch propped up between them.
Then I walked away from the monstrous stunt and when I was a few metres from it I turned around and stared it out. Yes, me and my yellow and purple cycling shorts were going over that branch.
The problem was pedaling. The cycling shorts produced so much friction that a wall of electricity would crackle between my thighs. So I employed my brother to push me instead. Once he had pushed me towards the branch (which was a terrifying three inches off the ground), he was going to get down on his stomach and measure my wheels as they went over.
That was pure optimism, of course. I had never got my BMX airborne before that day. It was fine though. From watching videos I had worked out that when I got close something magical would happen — because clearly it was about magic, not skill. All I had to remember to say was “Rad!”and the rest would be taken care of.
My brother pushed, I crackled and said “Rad!”Me and my bike went…straight through the branch, snapping it in two.
“That was massive!”said my brother.
I felt my brain expand with the surprise of it. “Really? Wow, it felt just the same as being on the ground!”
“Well it was dude, there’s some way to go but it was still big!”
And that was how it started. About fifty broken branches later, and with very upset neighbours, I managed to get over it clean.
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