Wheel Could Be Heroes

Yellow Designs Stunt Team tries to teach their high-flying act to one firmly ground-based writer

Brian Gavagan talks about his bicycle like most people talk about their spouses. How it feels. Its extension from his body. The grip, touch, size and history. His words, as he limns about the metal in its frame, ring like Keats.

I have none of that connection. The frame is as cold to me as the ground under my feet is hard. Did I mention I’m not wearing any pads?

Nonetheless, I’m here with Brian and his Yellow Designs Stunt Team teammate and Aurora native Trey Herrera to learn the tricks — nay, art — of BMX.

Once confined to parking lots and driveways like suburban outlaws, BMX biking is now legit like afterschool gymnastics or soccer, perhaps with higher earnings potential than some amateur sports thanks to X Games and the like.

The ride to legitimacy for riders like Brian and Trey wasn’t easy, though.

Growing up in rural Wyoming during the Reagan administration was different for Brian and his future career. He laughs when he says back then he knew “all four” riders around Cheyenne — and that’s being generous. But much like the sport he embraced, Brian was independent and mostly freewheeling.

“You can ride anywhere,” he says. That includes on top of rails, stairs, benches, all of which Cheyenne can provide, no matter how cowboy it is. But Brian wasn’t looking to ride just anywhere.

“One time, when I my parents were away on a trip, this friend of mine was selling his half pipe. It was huge, like 8 feet tall, and he was going into the military and shipping out. His parents were excited to get it out of their backyard, so I took all the money I had — and borrowed like $50 from a couple friends — and bought it. We put it in my backyard when my parents were gone. It was great.”

Every day, up and down on the half pipe, trying new tricks on his backyard behemoth, Brian set the stage for his future career, even though he didn’t know it. Back then, it wasn’t so much of a path as it was a hobby. Professional bike rider is on the short list with alchemist of “Things not likely heard out of a career counselor’s mouth.”

“I’ve been able to go all around the world and ride on national TV, so all the people that thought it was a waste of time, or silly to be riding a kid’s bike … I guess it worked,” says Brian.

Fast forward to now. Brian and his teammates ride all over the world performing shows and competing for prize money. Being a professional rider — that is to say, riding enough to keep the lights on and bills paid isn’t easy — but it’s worth it for Brian.

For now, he mostly teaches children how to ride in classes in between his exhibitions. His team’s showcase on NBC’s “America’s Got Talent” keeps him busy riding for other people most of the time. And adults don’t seem to be too interested in hopping on a bike and making fools out of themselves. But seeing as I have little shame or likelihood that I’ll injure myself on flat ground, I raise my hand to try.

Genesis for BMX riders is the “bunny hop,” or the thing 4-year-olds do with little effort: two wheels off the ground. It’s the basis for any BMX rider, as it requires the simultaneous action of coordination, flexibility and athleticism.

“As the bunny hop comes,” the famous saying goes, “so go your knees.” Or something.

Brian starts me out slowly: Raise the front tire off the ground by shifting weight from over the seat to well behind the rear tire. (Seats on a bike to a BMXer are less useful than cutting through a jungle with a butter knife, apparently.) With the weight well behind the rear tire, the front tire lifts off the ground easily with a small tug, he says.

Easy in theory, right? In practice, this proves to be tougher than a prison steak.

That’s because along with relative fitness, these guys possess supernatural balance to do what they do. Brian and Trey can traverse entire ZIP codes on one wheel, whereas I can barely make it across a postage stamp.

I tumble to the ground a couple times, sure, but the only thing smarting here is my pride. Step One of Step One of my BMX career isn’t coming easily, and the realization sets in: I may not make the X Games at this rate.

Having not learned my lesson with IKEA furniture yet, I figure skipping a couple steps and moving to the harder parts may help my chances. Brian obliges.

The jump part comes simply after you get the first wheel off the ground. Jump from the bike, pull it with you and complete the bunny hop, Brian says.

Effortlessly, Brian can jump about as high as a two-liter pop bottle standing on end. I’m just looking to break the watertight seal my rear tire has with the ground at this point.

Back and forth I pace the court we’re riding in, jumping with the bike with what feels like Mr. T on my back. Much like the sun shines on the backside of everything, I hear I break daylight between my bike and the tires, if only for moments shorter than the Big Bang.

Brian is a willing teacher as much as he’s an expert rider.