My First Double. Forty Years in the Making.

This morning, at 52 years old, I did something I’ve dreamed about for more than 40 years.

I jumped my first proper double on a pumptrack.

I know, that doesn’t sound like much. And it isn’t.

But let me start at the beginning.

Discovering the pumptrack

Last year, Potsdam got a new pumptrack. A pumptrack is a continuous loop of small hills and banked turns. Instead of pedaling, you use your arms and legs to push the bike into the downward slopes, building up speed as you go.

I’d never ridden one before, but I thought my son might enjoy it, so we decided to give it a try.

I was on my gravel bike, and he was riding his normal city bike. We had fun, but it wasn’t until our next visit, when I tried his 20-inch bike, that things started to make sense.

I figured out how to pump and eventually managed to ride around the entire track without pedaling. Then my daughter arrived with her 24-inch bike, which I’d built for her.

Even better!

I was hooked. I needed a pumptrack bike.

I had my intern Cody build me a frame, which I quickly assembled using mostly spare parts from the workshop. No paint. I just wanted to ride it!   Here’s the bike:

What a difference!

I felt SO FAST.

Flying into those banked turns was unbelievable. Every time I entered one, I felt like I was going to die.

But I didn’t.

And that was the amazing part. I’d come flying out of a corner, somehow still upright, and immediately want to do it again.

I couldn’t get enough of it.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so excited about riding a bicycle.

Those Kids Can FLY!

I still remember the first time I saw a kid clear the small double.

A double is essentially two bumps with a gap between them. Instead of riding over both, you jump from the first and land on the backside of the second.

I was amazed. I hadn’t even realized you could jump it!

Then, sometime later, I watched some kids jumping all three doubles on the jump line.

I couldn’t believe it was possible.

Growing up, I rode BMX bikes with my friends. We didn’t have pumptracks or proper jumps, so we mostly messed around doing flatland tricks.

I grew up watching BMX films and continued following the sport over the decades, from BMX to freeride mountain biking, slopestyle, Crankworx and Rampage.

I’d always wondered what it would feel like to fly through the air on a bicycle.

And now, at 52, I was watching a bunch of kids doing exactly what I’d dreamed about as a child.

But this time, I wasn’t watching it on TV. We were riding together.

It was real. It was certainly possible.

But could I actually do it?

Learning to Fly

I started practicing on the small double. It took a while, but eventually I could clear it.

Now I wanted to jump the first double on the jump line.

And that was an entirely different story.

I wasn’t even close.

Coming out of the big banked turn, there’s just one quick roller before the jump. Almost no time to prepare. The whole thing feels like a death wish.   Here I am in the turn before the double…

I bought a full-face helmet, borrowed some skateboarding pads from the family, and kept practicing.

The kids made it look effortless. They just flew over the jumps. I flew like a stone.

I asked them what I was doing wrong.

Apparently, I wasn’t going fast enough.

Seriously? I already felt like I was going to die!

But they were right. I could go faster. Quite a bit faster, actually.

I watched some tutorials, worked on my technique and kept practicing. I was getting closer, but I still couldn’t make it.

Eventually, I filmed myself.

What an eye-opener!

Despite feeling incredibly fast, I wasn’t actually going nearly as fast as those kids. I also wasn’t pumping hard enough through the rollers or getting enough lift off the lip.

So I had a plan.

More speed. Pump harder. More pop.

And that brings us to this morning.

Today Might Be the Day

I headed to the pumptrack thinking that perhaps today would finally be the day.

Of course, it wasn’t the first time I’d thought that. Probably the fifth.

But this time, I even brought my tripod to capture the moment.

After warming up, I filmed five attempts.

And somehow, I was doing WORSE than before.

I kept coming up short, landing on top of the double.   Here is one of those attempts…

I couldn’t understand it.

Frustrated, I turned the camera off.

I rode around a little more. Then a young boy, perhaps five years old, arrived with his parents.

I watched him riding for a while, having an absolutely fantastic time.

Eventually, I decided to try again.

Faster.

Pump harder.

More pop.

And suddenly, things started working.

One more attempt.

I came flying around the berm, pumped through the roller, and pushed hard through the lip.

And then…

I DID IT!

I flew through the air and landed smoothly on the other side.

No horrible bang from my rear tire hitting the top of the double.

No awkward landing.

Just that incredible sensation of being airborne, followed by a perfectly smooth landing down the backside.

I knew immediately.

I’d made it.

I COULDN’T BELIEVE IT!

After all that practicing, frustration, patience, fear and fun, I’d finally done it.

It was one of the most amazing moments I’ve ever experienced on a bicycle.

Forty Years Later

I’m sitting here writing this, and I’m crying.

I know it might sound ridiculous. I’m a 52-year-old man who just jumped over a couple of bumps on a bicycle.

There are little kids at the pumptrack who can do this without even thinking about it.

There are riders doing backflips, enormous jumps and tricks I can’t begin to comprehend.

But that’s not really the point.

For more than 40 years, I watched incredible riders flying through the air. BMX, freeride, slopestyle, Crankworx, Rampage.

I always wondered what it would feel like.

And this morning, I finally found out.

It was everything I’d imagined. And more.

For a few seconds, I wasn’t watching somebody else do something incredible.

I was doing it myself.

I think that’s why this means so much to me.

It’s not really about clearing one particular jump.

It’s about discovering that something I dreamed about as a kid is still possible. About being so excited to ride my bike that I can hardly wait to get out the door. About learning something completely new, being terrified, getting frustrated, making progress, and eventually experiencing something I never thought I’d actually be able to do.

I went there this morning hoping I might finally clear that double.

I came home with something much bigger.

And now I understand why those kids keep jumping.

Why they go back again and again.

Why they make it look so effortless.

And why I’ve spent so much of my life watching them.

If you’re still reading this, and you have a pumptrack nearby, go ride it.

It might change your life, too.