Remember my July column, where I claimed that cruisers were on their way to being obsolete, and mentioned that I was going to start riding 20" again? What about my August column, where I whimpered like a baby about the fact that I had to let Raul Ruiz Astorga have my new 20" frame so that he might take second place at the NBL worlds? If you do, great... if not, go back and read them, so I can pick up the extra hits and thus earn an additional... hmm, that would be... $0.00 from my advertisers. Oh, that's right, I don't "do" banner ads. Better just keep reading, then.
I built my Badd 20" in early July, and by the time I let Raul have it, three weeks later, I had taken all of four wobbly laps around my local track, never going more than six inches off the ground, and never really doing anything that would be construed by a panel of independent judges as "pedaling hard". To be truthful, the bike terrified me. It had been at least five years since I had ridden a 20" on a BMX track, and probably another two years before that since I had done any serious racing on one.
Sure, all the old 20" knowledge was in my head somewhere, but the reality of making the switch from my comfortable, stable, self-correcting PL-24 to a pro-sized twenty with a steep head tube and a short rear end was proving to be a bit difficult. Remind me to tell you all the "JMC's are for people who know how to race story" some time - it illustrates very well what I'm talking about, but I'm too lazy to write it down at this moment. I was almost relieved when Raul needed the bike - it would give me some time to consider if I really wanted to commit myself to riding a 20".
You see, I have a little problem. Some riders can very easily switch between bikes, racing two classes on the same day with equal ability... but I'm not one of those people. It really takes me a little bit of time to get used to a bike, and once I accomplish this task I tend to be a little sketchy on anything else. So, once I pick a "primary bike" I have to stick with it. "Maybe," I thought to myself, "I should wait until next year, work on my cruiser skills, use my rollers to get my balance a little better, and make a well-informed decision at that time." But while one half of my brain was having these entirely reasonable thoughts, the other half was on the phone, ordering a MOSH "Bagley Four Star" trail-jumping bike, which arrived at my house this past Monday, August sixth, 2001.
I put the bike together and immediately cleared 24" on my bunnyhop stand. Woo-hoo! Actually, I was clearing 26" or better, but my cruiser-influenced timing was telling me to bring the back wheel up too soon. I rode around the neighborhood a bit. The Bagley is far from a long bike, but it seemed long enough. The bars, on the other hand, seemed really low, even though I had substituted a conventional stem for the straight-shot MOSH one. I decided to take it to the track and see if I could do any better with it than I did with the Badd.
At this point, some of you are wondering, "Why did he buy a trail-jumping bike?" Well, I wasn't looking for a trail-jumping bike - I was looking for a bike like what I rode as a teenager. Something indestructible, that I could ride on track, trails, skatepark, or street. The MOSH was the nearest thing I could find - in size, weight, and general design, it has a lot of the old "do-it-all" vibe that my old bikes had. It might be a second or two slower around a track than a purpose-built, ultra-light race bike - but I'd be lying if I said I cared.
I made an appointment to meet two of my favorite riders - 14 Girl Rachel Smith and 34 Novice Rich Hetzel - at my local track. I figured that being in the presence of both my old BMX mentor and a young woman who is faster and braver than I am would just about force me to do something on the Mosh. Rachel showed up just as I was taking a very careful first lap.
"Is the bike working okay?" she asked, obviously confused by my inability to ride in a straight line.
"Uh, yeah, it's fine, I'm the one with the problem", I replied. It felt like I was riding a pit bike! The second lap was no better - my nose was ahead of the front axle approximately half the time, since I couldn't find anything that felt like a balance point. I had the distinct impression that my little Mosh might decide to jump out from under me at any time. Jumping? Not a chance - I couldn't even ride over the first roller without going light on the pedals.
Light on the pedals... Hmm. That's a fundamental center-of-gravity mistake, the kind I delight in lecturing young riders about. Perhaps I should go back to the fundamentals of riding a BMX bike on a track:
I realized that the years spent on the big PL-24 had made me lazy. On a bike with 22.5" of top tube, an ultra-slack head tube, and two big, gyroscopically stable wheels, I had permitted myself to pick up bad habits - leaning forward, locking my elbows, dead-sailoring right and left over jumps - you name it. The Redline permitted these antics, but the little Mosh clearly wouldn't.
A few laps taken with the fundamentals in mind were much better. I jumped two of three on the long step-up in the first straight, manualed the doubles on the second straight. Now it was time to jump.
The first jump on my home track's second straight is a step-up, requiring the would-be jumper to go about nine feet forward and two up. It is virtually lipless, and in order to jump it on my cruiser I had to accelerate all the way around the long first turn, pedaling up to the base of the jump. It's a relatively safe jump, but it does require a strong pull to clear. Could I do it without letting the bike get away from me?
There is a moment in BMX that all riders know, and that is hard to explain to parents and non-riders. It's the moment of commitment. You ride up the face of the jump, and you have to pull. If you don't pull, you won't jump. After the pull, anything can happen, but it has to start with the pull. The first two times, I just couldn't get myself to pull, choosing instead to lift and speedjump/bump the step. The third time, I pulled correctly, and up I went...
...landing without incident on the backside. I had remembered to keep my weight relatively low and balanced, and the Mosh had rewarded me by not throwing me off. Next obstacle, please.
The "next obstacle" in question was a middlin' set of doubles following the step and separated by a roller. I could jump them on my cruiser; could I do it on the 20"? I returned to the fundamentals again: pump the backside of the step, lift the front wheel just high enough to skip the top of the roller, set down and prepare for the pull.
My first attempt was a headset-loosening case, a real emergency landing, but by keeping my knees and elbows bent I was able to absorb the shock and not pitch over the bars. I have to give some credit to Giant Bicycles, the folks who built this bike - and, if you must know, the vast majority of the "other guy's" bikes, as well - the forks and frame easily and compliantly absorbed an eighth-ton of rider jamming the front wheel into the second hump of a double without bending or even sending too much vibration into the bars. Did I enjoy casing the jump? I must have, because I did it twice more. The solution was to take more speed into the first corner, pedal to the (non-existent) lip of the first step, and pump HARD down the backside, all to get the extra bit of speed that would make it possible to get over...
(Obviously a lame-O jumping photo like this would never make it into Transworld BMX, but if it did, you would naturally be inundated with worthless photo credits, so here they are: Photo by Michelle Baruth using a Fuji MX-1200 digital camera. Rider is Jack Baruth aka Jim Boswell on a 2001 MOSH Bagley Four Star with S&M Beringer Bars. Jersey courtesy of Sweet Brothers BMX, Atlanta, Georgia. Pants are Eddie Bauer "cargo pocket" khakis, purchased for $10.98 at the warehouse store. Shoes: Airwalk Cube. Helmet: Vigor Vamoose 2. Gloves: Fox Dirtpaw. Bike "totally furred out" by the addition of faux-dalamation-fur pads from 1991.)
Okay, let's try to ignore just how fat I look in this photo (actually, I'm pleased to report that replacing my daily burger with daily chicken has permitted me to drop to a svelte 241 pounds), and concentrate on the instructive aspects. Elbows and knees are bent, but not too much, so I can absorb shock. I am looking at where I expect to land, just to make sure there's no loose dirt, other riders, or some further surprise there. I'll have to turn as soon as I land, so I am canting the bike in a little bit to prepare for that. My front wheel will remain high until I see the top of the second hump pass under it, at which point I will point it down to pump the backside. Easy as pie, if you have the right amount of speed.
My elation at clearing the dubs was in no way diminished by Rachel's effortless kickout over the same jump, performed just moments later, and if enough of you 14 Novices write in, maybe I'll start using her as a photo model instead of myself... But the point is not that I can't jump as well as a 14 Girl - it's that adherence to fundamentals makes the hard stuff on a track easier. Keep balanced, keep your elbows and knees bent, take a controlled pull, and adjust your landing based on what you see going on beneath you.
Two days later, I returned to the track to race Cruiser. I made every effort to keep the slop out of my riding, and managed to stay ahead of my mixed-age comp long enough to take first place for the night. Had my "cross-training" made me a better Cruiser rider? Nah, but it had reminded me to pay attention to my riding, which is something we all occasionally need to do.
The real test will come in a few days, when I take the Mosh to a skatepark. Can I ride a quarterpipe on it? How many stitches will I require afterwards? Will my "fur" pads be acceptable to the local ramp riders? Stay tuned, dear reader, stay tuned...