Gravity Check (5 page)

“Okay, so you want to be looking ahead,” Mitch is saying. “You don't want to be looking down at what your bike is doing. Look at where you're going to be landing. Concentrate on making yourself go there.”

The sun streams through the canopy high above us, lighting up the little plumes of dust kicked up by our wheels. Spread out before us is a whole series of jumps and drops that passing bikers have carved out of the earth over time. It's a mountain-bike playground, deep in the backcountry.

Nolan shifts uneasily next to me as he listens to Mitch. I can see this is taking him pretty far from his comfort zone.

On my other side, Seth is watching Mitch's every move with rapt attention. He's been pissing me off all morning, sucking up to Mitch and trying to make him laugh. So far he hasn't succeeded.

Mitch backs his bike up a bit and hops on. “Have a look, guys.” He starts rolling toward the drop, talking all the way. “Make sure your speed is right, lean back, stay loose”—he flies over the lip, and then his wheels hit the hardpack—“and ride it out.”

I nod. It's pretty basic technique. Nice to hear Mitch talk us through it though.

I look at Nolan. “What do you say, Nolan?” I ask. “You up for it?”

Nolan shakes his head. “This one's all yours, Jamie,” he says. “I'm happy to watch.” He must still be really sore from yesterday's fall down those stairs.

“You're coming down too, Nolan,” says Mitch from where he's standing at the bottom of the jump. His words are teasing, but his tone is firm.

“We'll see about that,” Nolan replies. He crosses his arms like a pouty two-year-old. “You're not the boss of me!”

I laugh at Nolan's act. I know he'll eventually cave and come down the drop. He just has to get used to the idea. Map it out in his mind. Nolan can't stand not being a part of things, even if he sometimes gets in way over his head.

I wheel my bike back from where I've been watching, on the side of the lip. As I turn to start walking it uphill, Chase comes screaming down from another jump higher up on the track. He's got some serious speed—and a serious grin on his face.

“Don't try this at home, kids,” he shouts as he launches off the lip. My eyes nearly fall out of my head as I watch him chew through the air. He drops his bike down, below his body. Swings his legs forward. Slaps the soles of his feet together. Whips them back into position. Not a moment too soon, they catch the pedals and absorb his landing.

Holy hell. The guy's a machine.

He skids to a stop a bit farther down from Mitch, who breaks into a full grin.

“Nice,” he says. He looks back up the hill. I follow his stare and see Rico hammering off the same jump that Chase just took. He shoots off the lip and gains air. But instead of clapping his feet together, Rico just lifts his feet off the pedals and out to the side, like a jumping jack. His feet come down just in time to catch his landing. It's a bit rough, but he sticks it.

Fantastic.

Seth, Nolan and I cheer. I want to try that.

I walk my bike up.

I go slower over the big jumps at first. I don't get as much air as Rico and Chase, and certainly not as much as Mitch, but my form is good. The more jumps I take, the faster I go, and the more comfortable I feel with it. After a while things seem to slow down a bit, and I can make decisions in midair. It feels like I've got time to try different things. I experiment, popping up and turning my handlebars a bit. Sweeping my tail out.

Rico keeps surprising all of us, pulling out crazy tricks and trying new stuff. He's fearless, but he's not stupid. He's completely focused on what he's doing. In the zone. He doesn't think about the other people who are standing around watching. He just drops in, does his shred and pulls off to hear what Mitch has to say. I admire him. Especially when he pops off a jump and twists his bike from side to side before landing it.

Seth is different. He's so used to being the center of attention that he can't focus on just doing his own thing. He hucks himself off jumps with a banshee screech, more intent on making it big than on getting it right. Ironically, he suffers the most runins with the forest floor because he's so keen on showing off. Whatever. He seems like he's having a good time.

I'm fully blown away when, just before lunch, Mitch takes me aside and tells me that I've got the makings of a competitive mountain biker. Maybe even a freerider.

“You think?” I ask.

Mitch nods. “Yeah. I've been watching everyone here. You seem to have an intuitive understanding of when to unleash it and when to rein it in, Jamie.”

I feel my face growing warm, and I grin under his praise.

“Cool,” I say. “What about Rico? He looks pretty great too.” I glance over my shoulder to where Rico and Chase are replacing the tube in a blown tire.

“Rico too,” agrees Mitch. “He's got guts. But your technique is smooth. Doesn't take you long to get a move dialed.”

I feel suddenly tall. So tall. Like I could reach up and pick the sun out of the sky.

“Thanks, Mitch,” I say.

He nods and claps me on the back. “Keep at it. You don't need to do anything fancy,” he says. “Just keep doing what you're doing. You should check out some of the junior competitions.”

“Yeah?” I ask. I'm about to ask him how he managed to get sponsors when Seth roars up and slides to a stop. Gravel pings off his spokes.

“Hey, Mitch,” he pants. “Did you see me wave back there? I took my hands right off the bars.”

“Did you, Seth?” Mitch asks. “That's great.”

I leave Seth yapping at Mitch and head back into the jumps.

I drop off a lip and coast around, soaring over bumps, my head in the clouds. Mitch Woodgrove thinks I've got what it takes to ride competitively! I steal a glance over to where he's still having his ear bent by Seth. Maybe I can be like him one day and do this stuff for a living. Maybe I can get sponsorships to pay my race fees and help me get through university. Maybe I'll be rich!

chapter nine

We stay at the jump park for the whole day. We break for lunch, sitting in a loose group on a bunch of stumps and logs. When there's a break in the conversation, I decide to ask Mitch about his sponsorships. He must have some great backing, because all his gear is top-notch. And he drives a brand-new Toyota Tundra. And I heard him telling Chase earlier that he doesn't work at a day job.

Seth beats me to it. “So, Mitch,” he says. “Is it hard to get good sponsorships?”

Mitch shakes his head. “Not really,” he says. “Not if you're good.” He glances at me.

I grin and open my mouth, but Nolan's jumping in now. “You must make a lot of money from your sponsors, then, eh?” he asks. “To pay for all that primo gear?”

I'm embarrassed for Mitch at this question. I guess Nolan doesn't think it's rude to ask pointed questions about how much people make. But, honestly, I'm wondering the same thing. Maybe sponsorship is the key to making millions.

Mitch isn't fazed by Nolan's nosiness. “Sponsorship is enough to keep you in good gear,” he agrees. “And they pay for your races and travel. But that's about it. It can be hard to make a living just out of racing.”

“But how can you survive, then?” Rico wants to know. “If you're always training, when do you work at a regular job? How do you pay your bills?”

Mitch shrugs. “I don't exactly live in a mansion. And I make a mean pot of KD!” Suddenly Seth sits forward. “Hey, you guys,” he begins in an
I'm-going-to-tell-you-a-secret
tone. “You'll never believe what me and Jamie saw when we were out biking last night.” I look sharply at Seth, but he's not looking in my direction.

“Seth,” I say too loudly.

Everyone swivels their heads to look at me. Seth's eyes widen as he realizes his mistake. I can feel Mitch's eyes boring into me.

Nolan looks from Seth to me. “What?” he says. “What did you guys see?”

I think fast. “You know we weren't going to tell anyone about the bear scare, Seth,” I say.

Seth's quick to catch on to my lie. “Oh,” he says. “Sorry, man. I forgot.” He fakes a worried glance at Chase and lets me steer the story. I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Duh,” I say, pretending to be irritated with him.

Our ruse worked. I've moved the topic away from drugs and toward something different. Of course, in mentioning bears, I've now got Chase's attention. I'll have to think something up on the fly. Damn Seth, anyway.

“You guys saw a bear?” Chase demands. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“Because it was small,” I say. “And it was far away. Just a yearling, I'd say.”

“Yep,” Seth says. “It ran away when it caught sight of us. We must've scared it off.”

I can't resist his setup. “Scared
you
pretty good, little brother,” I tease. “You should've seen your face.” I turn to the others. “Seth was completely freaked. Nearly pissed his pants.”

“Oh, whatever,” Seth scoffs. “I did not.”

“Yeah,” says Rico. “I noticed you were acting a bit weird after you came back from your ride yesterday. Thought you might have seen something while you were off in the trees.”

Mitch looks at us. “You guys should be careful about going into parts of the forest you're not familiar with,” he says. His smile is gone, and his face is deadly serious. “You never know what you might run into.”

Seth stares at Mitch. I nod, dry-mouthed, unable to find any words to reply.

“That's true,” says Chase. “You should always make as much noise as you can while you're in the trees. If a bear knows you're coming, she'll get out of your way. They don't like running into us any more than we like running into them.”

Mitch stretches like a lazy cat. “Well,” he says. “You guys up for another afternoon of humping and bumping?”

“Hell yeah,” says Rico.

“Bring it!” shouts Nolan.

Seth and I exchange a nervous glance before packing up the remains of our lunch and following the others back into the bike park. That was a little too close for comfort.

After lunch, we work hard on our bikes. Up, down, up, down. Nobody breaks anything, but there are a fair number of cuts and bruises. Mitch takes a few jumps where he turns his whole bike around in a 360 underneath him. Maybe even two. I can't tell because it goes so fast. He shows us a few flips too. They're crazy great, but I can't even imagine how he found the courage to ever try his first one. He watches all of us as we ride, giving us tips and telling us when things are really working.

I'm still nervous about what went on between us at lunch, but Mitch is acting like nothing happened. Gradually, I relax back into a fun day of biking.

Mitch talks a lot about safety, and how important it is to stay in control. “I know you guys hate to hear it,” he says, when we've taken a break to patch our broken, oozing skin, “but you've got to stay in control. Go slow, especially if you're on a trail you don't know or if you're trying a trick for the first time. Don't be stupid like me,” he says.

Nolan raises his eyebrows. “
Mitch
Woodgrove
and
stupid
don't seem to go together in the same sentence,” he says.

Mitch shrugs. “See these teeth?” he asks, giving us a wide grin.

We look. His teeth seem perfect. Straight, even and white.

“Not yours?” asks Rico.

Mitch shakes his head.

“What happened?” Nolan wants to know. He's fishing around in his bag of trail mix, chasing a blue M&M. He pops it into his mouth and squints through smudgy glasses at Mitch's teeth.

“Entered a dip too fast on a trail I didn't know,” Mitch replies. “I bombed into it, hard. My front shocks squished out. No bounce left in them. I flew over the handlebars and took a digger, right into the other side.” He smacks the top of his helmet to show us the way he hit the wall. “Hammered it, square on,” he continues. He opens his mouth and points to his front teeth. “Cracked all four of my teeth on the top,” he says.

I grimace. “Ouch.”

Seth shudders. “Gross.” His hand goes to his mouth.

“Yeah, gross
and
ouch,” Mitch agrees. “Lucky I didn't have my tongue between my teeth right then. I'd have bitten it in two.”

It's quiet for a moment as we consider this.

“Nice,” says Nolan. “Thanks for the image, Mitch.” He turns to the side and pretends to yark.

Mitch laughs. “Let me be a lesson to you guys. Stay in control. You might not look as cool as you would if you were hammering… but you never look cool as Captain Crash.”

chapter ten

The day is over long before I want it to be.

Chase asks Mitch whether he'd like to stay for supper. Mitch shakes his head. “I've got to bounce,” he says. “Got some stuff to do tomorrow.” He looks around. “Nice spot up here though, isn't it?” he asks no one in particular. “You've got a great bunch of bikers here too, Chase,” he continues, looking around at us. “There's some real talent here.” He looks at me when he says this. I give a small nod in return.