I've come a long way over these last few years. Motocross helped to bring me out of fear and depression, and in the end, has given me enough confidence to race my dad on dangerously steep and rocky trails, almost without thinking. Some call it reckless, but to be honest, my riding is far from it. Risky? Yes. But my risks are calculated, and I usually know when to quit. But when I get a little full of my riding skills, and think I can wheelie just one last time before dinner, well I've learned to think again.
Before my riding days, I was terrified of getting hurt or even slightly failing at something. But now, I've learned that I can celebrate my fails just like I celebrate my wins. Fails are just as good, if not better, for story-telling and writing than even my greatest dirtbike achievements are. In fact, I'll go as far as to say a dirtbike crash is a win. I once was told (probably by some random rider at a motocross track), that I should never stop riding, and I should cherish each and every scar my dirtbike leaves behind. I won't be young forever, and bones turn brittle.
Dirtbike riding has shown me (the hard way), just how tough and stubborn I can be. I almost wanted to get back to riding when I crashed that wheelie in North Dakota, but even my uncle Delton talked some sense back into me and convinced me to stay off for awhile. Once the adrenaline wore off, and the pain kicked in, I decided riding wasn't a good idea for a few weeks.
But it wasn't long before I was back in my helmet again. At Clarke's place, Ryder and I raced around on our dirtbikes, and even played a round of tag on the bikes, until Ryder crashed into the ditch and ended our riding for the night. Ryder trudged out of the ditch laughing, so I laughed and made fun of him for the rest of the night and next day.
While I'm not afraid of getting hurt or failing anymore, I still do everything I can to avoid it. I'm not a jackass, but I'm far from a little wussy. Unlike before, I don't let my fears get in the way of things I want to do. I still use common sense, but I won't back down on something if the reward is greater than the risk. And dirtbiking is definitely worth every scratch, bruise, and burn it has done to me. I may be broke and sore almost everyday, but I must say, dirtbiking has saved my dignity and self-esteem at the very least, so it's worth every dime and dollar. It. Is. Totally. Worth. It. All.
Do I recommend dirtbiking to anyone else though? Ummm.... No. Not really. I've been told many times that I have a screw or two loose, and I don't deny it. It takes someone with a lot of guts and craziness to ride, and anyone who lacks even a little bit of that insanity and/or toughness won't be in the sport for very long at all. Anyone can try it, but not everyone can ride. I've seen adults on pitbikes come off the track limping with tears streaming down their cheeks after a minor crash, but on the other hand, I've seen 6-year-olds on mini pitbikes have multiple crashes, but get up cheering after each one.
Dirtbike riders are definitely a different breed, and the only reason why it's not an Olympic sport is because very few people are willing to try it out, and those who do ride are f-ing crazy! I mean, just look at me! (Watch the Crusty Demons of Dirt/ Nitro Circus movies on YouTube if you don't believe me. I may include a few links.) You have to be crazy to willingly taunt death every day you tighten the chin strap on your helmet. You have to be insane to ride a dirtbike.
Links to some good dirtbike videos (And no, I don't ride like they do in these videos):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4viC07kvXwE&t=42s
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPLx5tZFrW0
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Kb2VTLBN8w&t=2s
