Issue 161: Start ‘Em Young

Riding with kids might be the perfect way to feel good about the future.

Words and photography Pete Scullion

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You know the next generation will be alright when you look over your shoulder at the bottom of the trail and see a six-year-old hot on your heels. A big old skid and a high five later and we’re already winching back to the top to do it all again. The main issue? The ‘correct’ answer to the question ‘Who’s going first?’.

Silly legs

While I am certainly no stranger to cutting about on the bike with Joe Barnes, usually on long days with plenty of hikeabike and questionable descents, plus everything in between, today we’ve got company. The whirlwind of energy that is Bo Barnes, despite being a bit snotty from a cold, is already doing jumps off a dirt ramp in the garden before we’re even in our riding kit. Happy madness breaks out before I’m fully awake and greets me at breakfast. This sets the tone for the day.

With a strong coffee and some eggs down the hatch, plus a breakout of ‘silly legs’ (think Ministry of Silly Walks but sillier) in the living room, we’re soon into the woods near the house and getting some early sends on the go before hitting the trails proper.

Our first port of call is a bombhole jump, handcrafted by two-thirds of the Barnes boys, a very good long stone’s throw away. Bo is immediately doing better turnbars than I could ever dream of. Start ’em young I guess. Soon to be on a pedal bike with gears and suspension, his matchy-matchy black and green with flames Hope bike is the weapon of choice for today’s outings, as, according to Bo: “It’s better for jumps.” It’s also pretty good for skidding through beech leaves too by the looks of it.

After moving east from Fort William in the not too distant past, the overnight rain hasn’t reduced the place to a sloppy mess. The massive ancient trees in the woods have done a solid job of soaking up the worst of it. A far cry from the perma-wet that is the Scottish west coast. There’s also no sign of midgies in this part of the world yet. The sun is even out, casting long beams of light through the plantation sections of the forest.

Six-year-old sender

It doesn’t take long before we’re heading off to the next spot by way of another ribbon of singletrack and find more of a natural bombhole. An old sunken track now makes for the perfect rooty sender and all three of us are ticking along the air miles as we go. This part of the woods feels like a green room as the moss, lichen, pines and rhododendrons all bring their flavour of green to the party, highlighted by patches of strong April sunshine.

Once again, I feel like I need to up my turnbar game while Joe does his usual sideways action at the drop of a hat. It seems that it doesn’t matter which of these two I’m riding with, I’ll get shown up. The ride to the next spot gives us the opportunity to discuss the important things you can discuss with a six-year-old. A game of “Would you jump into a swimming pool full of…?” kicks off. The general consensus is that baked beans and ice cream are top of the list – bogies, bums and guitars are not favourite. The latter three elicit a wheezy chuckle from Bo that’s pretty infectious. Who’d have thought that would have set off a six-year-old, eh?

A short hop from the bombhole, we’re into yet more standard Barnes fare. On a long, left-hand corner that offers a little bit of support around the outside of the turn, almost like they’re synchronised, both drop a foot and send the bike sideways. Far fewer beech leaves compared to the last time we were here but still plenty of drift on offer. Poetry in motion. Like father, like son…

Jumps for goals

With kids’ bikes being worlds apart from the heavy behemoths that I and many others my age grew up on, it wouldn’t be too hard to replicate the dirt shaped into a jump anywhere and get the same buzz from today’s next generation. It’s where most kids’ riding life starts. Joe recalls having jumps made of concrete as a bairn growing up just north of Fort William. Not something we’d suggest copying but it all has to start somewhere. Riding a bike with a small person might be slow but it’s far faster than a small person walking…

Over lunch, Joe explains that while the wee man was on a ‘strapped in’ bike seat from a very early age, he’s a strong believer in kids moving under their own steam. As a result, Bo was on a balance bike from around nine months old. He alway wanted to ride his bike too, so it’s far from just having fast parents… Mum, Fiona, is a former Masters Downhill World Champion in her own right.

Throw in shinty, football, swimming, tennis, plus riding both a scooter and an Osset trials motorbike, the wee man is doing everything that a kid should be doing. ‘That’ being everything. That’s not to say he isn’t still an absolute ripper on a bike though. Bo is full gas, all the time.

All the snacks

With lunch out of the way, we head over the hill to Abriachan where there’s a wicked waymarked trail centre complete with a jump line, flow trail, cross-country loop and a pump track. The sun has gone in behind the clouds but it’s still a cracker of a day. The second we’re out of the van, Bo is doing jumps off a pile of whin dust. There’s just no stopping him. Wind him up and let him go.

Armed with a tow rope, this is where we start banging out a few laps. The climb is a good opportunity for Joe to try to correct one of Bo’s new-found riding techniques. Glued to an ancient copy of Dirt Magazine that morning with Andrew Neethling on a Trek Session downhill bike in a wind tunnel on the cover, Bo has started riding with his elbows as close to his knees as possible when the trail goes fast and smooth. Joe reminds Bo more than once, but it would appear that his ears are merely cosmetic as I hear shouts of “Elbows up” and “Strong elbows” behind me on the next lap. I am honoured to be allowed to go first this time.

The big jump line gives me an opportunity to not be out-jumped by a child but, still, Bo is hot on my heels around the berms, so I have to throw away my fear of built jumps and give the bars a good old yank at the top of the lip to keep some distance between us.

Midway through jump laps, we stop for a well-earned Gold bar, with Joe opting to add some fresh larch needles to increase the flavour. Bo doesn’t seem entirely convinced but tries some anyway, going so far as to try to eat a few pine needles from other trees to test them out, but Joe soon disabuses him of that notion.

With fuel in the tank, we’re soon riding trains down the jump line before taking in what Joe calls ‘Innes’ downhill pump track’, a flow trail that Bo’s wee brother, a “loose unit on a bike” according to Joe, seems to ride rather well indeed. It wouldn’t be surprising if Innes proves himself to be a ripper too.

Back at the van, Joe heads off to get a hot lap of the cross-country loop in so he can “Win some races”, while Bo and I roll down the fire road to the pump track. A good dose of silly legs on the bike, big skids, and Bo trying to cut me off more than once gets the wheezy giggles going again, especially when we go for a rolling contest down the long old hill to the pump track. Crucially, there’s no lack of fun combined with being perfectly happy sending trails on a 16in wheeled bike that we’re riding on 29ers.

It would seem this is par for the course though. Fiona recalls seeing a video Joe took of Bo riding down a steep grass bank near the park in Fort William, thinking it was quite cute. This feeling changed when she saw the bank itself and how steep it was. That bank was unofficially off-limits for a while afterwards.

After a heap of laps at the Abriachan pump track with Bike Wash Man as Joe tuned the legs up on the cross-country lap, we’re all fairly cooked. A day of skids, laps and giggles is exactly how a day on the bikes should go. Despite being well worn out by the day’s antics, there’s always time for more silly legs. I just need to come up with a silly walk that lets me stretch while I’m doing it.

Fun is with everything

It would be easy to surmise that fast parents = fast kids, but I think it’s way simpler than that. Kids are generally keen and will be keen on most things you’re keen on too. It wouldn’t be too hard to get a wee one hooked on bikes with a massive amount of input, just a bit of encouragement and consistency goes a long way. Balance bikes make stabilisers a thing of the past so kids these days don’t have to learn to ride a bike without them, they just get on pedals and go.

I certainly count myself very lucky that my parents got me to dip my toe into almost every sport available and, as a young adult, being outside was the default. That hasn’t changed as I rapidly approach my fourth decade on this earth. While it doesn’t have to be bikes, there’s so much more to bikes than just jumps and skids. Bikes are freedom before you can legally drive a car and you still get that connection with where you are as you pass through too.

Being outdoors and riding bikes has given me everything – still keeps me healthy and out of any serious trouble. Far too many kids either don’t continue any sport after school, or never get the opportunity to try them when their brains are a sponge for learning. That needs to change.

It didn’t feel like a day out with someone’s kid either, it was just a fun day of railing berms at Abriachan, turnbars off sketchy jumps, and pals.