The Jump
I had done the jump dozens of times, but not since I crashed a few months ago. Since then, I'd been metering my risk carefully, and this jump, which has always had a rutted face and a sharp kicker on the landing, had not been in my immediate plans. But when I rolled it the other day, I knew I had to jump it again.
Why? I'm not completely sure, except for the fact that my inner-rider gave me the thumbs-up when I eyeballed it. I'm not sure what gave him that idea, but I do know that I always listen to him when he shows such certainty.
Still, I rolled it a bunch of times, testing the angles and building my resolve. A time or two, I gathered some speed on the approach, then backed off at the last minute. Finally, after all of this, I rolled around and looked at the face, and the switch flipped: it was time to do it. I pointed the bike, throttled toward the take-off and turned everything over to my auto-pilot...
****
A few weeks ago, I wrote about expanding my riding repertoire to include riding trails. My idea was that if I could enjoy going on trail rides, maybe it would open a new world to me that might be a little less intense than the one where I race motos and attempt tricky jumps.
But after riding a couple of trail rides, the plan started to fall apart. The trail rides were pleasant, but I forgot about them almost as soon as I hit my kill switch. They just didn't resonate with me the way racing and freeriding always have. If the trails were flat-ish, I was just bored. If the trails were rocky and off-camber, I was still bored, and also worried about bending my rims or crushing my header pipe if I became inattentive.
Then I went to Gardnerville to practice and had a ball, and it hit me: I like riding tracks. I like going in circles with lots of other guys around me. Sure, it's what I've always done, but what's wrong with that? I'll definitely go on trail rides from time to time too, but I now understand, maybe now more than ever, that tracks are the bread-and-butter of my motocross life.
Well, maybe tracks and freeriding too. I've always loved going out to find jumps, and the elation that comes when you huck a new one. Which brings me back to the beginning of the story...
****
I knew I had it made shortly after take-off. I saw the kicker coming up fast, but I was just high enough to float above it and aim right for the jump's long, steep landing. The bike landed gently and I gave it a burst of throttle to punctuate the touchdown. Yeah, I had jumped it before, and yeah, I've jumped bigger things, but still: it had spooked me a little bit for awhile, and now I was over it. It felt nice.
And I suppose it's this pattern--the cycle of tension and relief on a motorcycle--that probably keeps me hooked on riding. It comes from racing and it comes from freeriding, both of which, when done properly, start with nervousness and end with elation. When you stare down something scary, like the start of a race or a difficult jump, and come out in one piece on the other end, it creates a unique feeling. And I am clearly hooked on it...for better or for worse.
