“I Wanna Do A Wheelie!”

Those were the exact words I used, at the tender age of eleven. I was riding dirt bikes in the woods behind my friend’s home. There were three of us. We would all take turns riding one particular dirt bike that had the best handling and speed because it was the newest. I tore around the various trails, did jumps over small hills (that seemed so huge at the time) and broke hard at sharp turns to throw dirt in the air. This was the height of excitement. It would take watching Damon Bradshaw one day to make my young mind realize how lame I was, but hey-for a moment, I was king.

One afternoon, a new friend showed up to our little circle of three musketeers. I still don’t remember his name. His hat was backwards, his shirt was too long and over-sized, and he could ride. Like, really ride. For a twelve year old. Being the friendly soul I am, I introduced myself and offered to let him ride first. Good manners to make my mother proud. He was a little shy but gladly accepted. He hopped on our dirt bike and rode up and down the trail a few times. Then he came back to us and smiled. After a pause, he hit the throttle and did a wheelie. I think it lasted two seconds. An eternity to my eleven year old mind.

When he came back he had achieved legend status to me. I ran up to him and before he could take off his very dented helmet (hint there) I said these words…

“I wanna do a wheelie!”

“Okay.” He said.

I practically threw him off the bike and hopped on myself. “How do you do it?”

He scratched his chin. “Umm.” (another hint there)

“Come on! Just tell me!” You see, at eleven, I had not yet learned that there is danger behind the sound “Umm”.

He pointed to a small dirt mound on the trail. “When you’re at the mound, drop the clutch, and hit the throttle.”

I repeated what he said, out loud. Like there was magic power in his words. Then I sped down the trail. I got to the dirt mound and followed his instructions to the letter. Surely, I was going to do a wheelie for perhaps…three seconds?

My first clue that this wasn’t going according to the movie playing in my mind, of wheelie glory, was my feet suddenly being on the ground. I actually took the time to wonder-why were my feet on the ground? Then another moment to realize that I was still on the throttle. And in that space of time, my feet went out from under me and I was dragged by the bike across dirt, tree roots, and rocks. My cat like reflexes finally kicked in when I started to say “ow” and I let go of the bike. Brilliant move-because I stopped being dragged and the bike kept going. Sort of. The rear tire kicked out and it fell on top of me. Double “ow”.

My friends came running over. Laughing. I was scratched and dinged, but, what eleven year old dirt biker isn’t? I laughed too. But, I have never forgotten the lesson of that day. Respect the machine.

The amount of registered and licensed motorcycle riders has risen quite dramatically the last fifteen years. Sportbike riders are a huge segment of that demographic rise. And sportbike stunting has also risen with these increases. This is both good and bad.

It is good because stunters like Jessica Maine, Jason Britton, Bill D, and Kyle Woods are finally getting a little of their just due recognition for the amount of hard work they have put into the sport of stunting. Increased interest and appreciation of the sport has directly led to events like Stunt Wars and shows on the Speed Channel. It is going from being a completely underground, hide from the police activity, to a genuine sport. Stunters, like Kyle Woods and Ernie “E-Dub” Vigil, have even been tapped for T.V. shows and movies like “Yes Man”. This is a marked departure for Hollywood who has relied on their own stunt personnel for movies and shows. The times are changing and they are changing for the better.

But, there is also some bad news. And all of it centers around riders who do not respect the machine. They do not respect their motorcycle or its power. Every so often, I will meet someone who will ask me to teach them to how to ride. I always say yes – but, only after they go to a professional first to learn the basics. My view is, I may have some bad habits that I don’t want to pass on to a new rider who can get hurt. I would rather they get a pro to assess them and teach them properly. I am not an instructor. I am simply a rider and I know my limitations.

It’s the same with stunting. Just because you see someone on the street lift that front tire and tear down the road, don’t assume you can do the same. I fell while riding a small dirt bike on some trails and it hurt. The pavement is far more unforgiving. Any beginner should seek advice and assistance. Know your limitations.

Now, before you go to Craigslist and Google to look up stunting lessons in your local neighborhood, let me give you some of my own advice. If you want to stunt like the pros you see on Youtube and the Speed Channel, why go to some guy named “Ray” down the street? Seriously. Is he a stunter on par with Kyle Woods? Maybe. But, then again-probably not. How would you know that you’re not learning bad habits from someone without any real experience?

I believe strongly in always going to the best. And I believe in going to that which gets you from point A to point B in the quickest and safest way possible. So, I recommend going to the Stunt Lab section of Throttle Nation Magazine to at least see how an honest-to-goodness pro is teaching how to do a stunt safely before you go to “Ray” on Craigslist. The pros have done it all wrong already in order to get it all right. And when they teach it, it’s been after more falls and crashes than they care to remember. Use their experience to save you from all their painful learning on the pavement. Trust their teaching and recommendations over “Ray’s”. In short, respect the machine.

I love riders, racers, and stunters. And I want to see everyone alive and well…on the streets.

~J

Just call him J.

Jaime Valentino is a writer who has a wide background and array of experiences that he relates through his most current endeavor, Behind the Visor.

J. has been published by a diverse group of companies. Whether it was fantasy stories (through Raven, LLC a fiction publishing company) to Wine Blogs for Three Thieves Wine, he has always had an intimate knowledge and unique viewpoint that has translated well to his readers who have followed him over the years.

Sportbikes are the one passion in his life he has always returned to no matter what. He rode his first mini-bike at nine years old and has never looked back.

J. lives in New York City. Though he will tell you he thrives there…