Loud, shrill and always in a good mood. Brett Tippie talks more in one day than others do in three days.
Nobody knows where the energy comes from. But it seems obvious that it has helped the Canadian to achieve success. Born in Vancouver and raised in Kamloops, Brett snowboarded in his early years and at some point adapted his skills to mountain biking. It was a time when the sport of MTB was mainly defined by racing. Brett soon wanted nothing more to do with that. He was interested in trails and steep descents, not best times. And so, together with his school friends Richie Schley and Wade Simmons, he cruised down gravel slopes on his mountain bike, jumped over ledges and conquered sheer vertical cliffs that he would otherwise only dare to tackle on his snowboard in winter. The mountain bike manufacturer Rocky Mountain got wind of this and sensed a trend. The three friends were taken under contract. Because Cannondale claimed the patent rights to the term "freerider", they were given the ironic name "Frorider". Since then, they have been regarded as the inventors of the freeride concept. While Richie Schley and Wade Simmons experienced the heyday of the sport, Tippie took the wrong path. But there is a happy ending. Tippie is back. Crazier than ever.
Brett, what do you regret when you look back on your MTB career?
I am divided. On the one hand, I regret the point at which I chose the wrong path, took drugs and lost everything. On the other hand, I also believe that sometimes things have to work out the way they do. Who knows, if I had left that shit out, things might have turned out very differently. I wouldn't have met my wife and I would be a different person.
But it all started so well. Together with Richie Schley and Wade Simmons, you are regarded as the inventor of the freeride discipline. Would you have thought back then that you would get such a big thing rolling?
No. But of course I knew that what we were doing was cool. Back then, I earned my money as a sponsored snowboard racer - and was soon doing the same thing on a mountain bike. I was already dropping in gravel pits in 1983 - long before the industry saw potential in this new discipline in the mid-90s. We were guys doing crazy stuff on the bike, pushing each other and having a blast. The question that centred my life back then was: Can I still jump from something higher?
You were always the crazy guy among the Froriders - the one who dared to do anything.
That's right, I loved being the first to take big jumps. Whilst the others were still rubbing their chins, I pushed my bike up the approach, ready to drop everywhere. But at some point I lost that aura. Suddenly guys like Wade Simmons or Josh Bender were daring to do bigger things.
The still young sport was on its way to its peak. You were a star. Why did you start taking drugs?
I think it was this point when others were doing crazy stuff like me. That may sound strange now, but it really bothered me at the time. And then one thing led to another. I was a colourful dog in Whistler, everywhere I went it was: "Tippie, have a beer with us." I think guys who turn down a beer are stupid, so I always drank with them. At the time, my girlfriend broke up with me. I was frustrated and from then on I just partied, overdid it with the alcohol and tried drugs for the first time.
What kind of drugs?
Hard drugs. I took everything I could find through my nose. I think I took pretty much everything - except the stuff you inject yourself with a needle. I remember once not sleeping for ten days. As soon as I got tired, I took something.
Can you remember the moment when you could no longer control it?
I don't think I realised that at all. I was doing my favourite thing at the time, which was partying. Of course, I neglected my job as a professional biker and it wasn't long before my sponsors kicked me off. I lost my job and most of my friends. I was so ashamed of myself that I just hid, took drugs and hung out with dodgy guys.
What were your professional friends Wade Simmons and Richie Schley doing at the time?
Those were the glory days of freeriding. They were busy with photo and video productions. But they didn't forget about me. They tried to make me realise that I was going down the wrong path. I remember Richie bringing me self-help books or Wade dragging me on bike tours in the hope of converting me. But I wanted nothing to do with them or their advice at the time. I didn't give a shit.
Was that the low point?
Unfortunately, things got even worse. My grandmother died. So my father went looking for me again to bring me to the funeral. This time he found me - at the time I was hanging out in abandoned houses with dodgy blokes. My dad dragged me into the car and drove me home. When I got home, I realised that I was going to die if I carried on like this. It was as if two voices were talking to me. One said: Fuck it! Go for the next line. The other said: Make sure you get clean as quickly as possible, otherwise you'll die! I listened to the second voice. Shortly afterwards, I checked myself into a rehab centre. After 40 days I was clean. After that, things started to look up. I met my future wife, started working in construction, got a flat and tried to pay my rent on time - a normal life.
When was the last time you took hard drugs?
On 15 December 2008, after my withdrawal, I relapsed a few times, but I soon realised that I only felt a real craving for drugs when I drank alcohol. So I stopped that too. Everything seemed to be going well until my dad died. That hit me like a bolt of lightning. My dad was and is everything to me.
Today you are travelling around the world again as a bike pro and presenter. How did you get your foot back into the MTB scene?
My ex-sponsor Rocky Mountain gave me a bike in 2008 in the hope that I would start riding again. The next year, they gave me a new one and the job of producing photos with a photographer. I realised what I had lost. Namely the coolest job in the world: professional biker.
But you couldn't live on that, could you?
No. At that time, I earned my money with hard labour in construction or as a lumberjack. I hung out with narrow-minded blokes I couldn't get on with. I remember the lunch breaks where they'd tell each other stories about how they'd smashed other blokes' faces in. I just thought to myself: What the hell am I doing here? I have to get out of here.
How did you manage it?
I pondered what skills I still had. Before I retired as a professional snowboarder, I hosted snowboard world cups. Entertaining people has always been my thing. So I signed up with the internet platform Pinkbike as a festival presenter. Apparently they liked my show and I got new jobs. My ex-sponsor Rocky Mountain realised that I was serious and brought me back into the team. Suddenly I was a Frorider again.
Sounds like a happy ending.
Oh yes, it's a happy ending. But it didn't happen by itself. I was very determined. I worked hard on my comeback and gave it my all. I had a family to look after at the time. I quit my job in construction and in the forest and was damn glad I didn't have to hang out with the dark characters anymore.
You said earlier that sometimes things have to go the way they do. Are there still moments when you regret your crash?
Mmh, if you ask me like that: Of course I would have liked to have skipped that shit. I was such an idiot. I lost precious time with my dad, and probably years of life expectancy because of the hard drugs.
Now you're back, you always seem to be in a good mood and you call yourself the "Director of Good Times". Are you really always happy?
I'm often asked that. Of course I don't play anything. I've always been a cheerful person - I must have inherited that from my dad. Besides, there's no reason to go through life with a sour face. My hobby is my job. I have a wonderful wife, two healthy children, hang out with good guys. Why should I be in a bad mood?
Many people have this too, but are still plagued by doubts.
I've never understood life negators like that. I think you can control whether you're in a funny mood and question everything or whether you go through life in a carefree way. I've found that I feel better when I hang out with people who are in a good mood. Even better when I realise that the people around me enjoy my presence or laugh at my jokes. That gives me a lot.
Nevertheless, there must be things that make a Tippie think.
(Thinks for a long time). Getting older, perhaps. I'd like to be young forever. I'm worried that at some point I won't be physically able to bike the way I do now. I'm also worried that I'm a relatively old father. In general, I'm afraid of wasting time. It's a good thing that five hours of sleep is enough for me - sometimes I pull all-nighters. I hate sleeping. What a waste of time.
Really? Only five hours.
Yes, it's ideal. I can work on things on the computer when my girls are already in bed. I've loved night rides for a few years now. Nature has a completely different face at night and I'm not afraid of missing out on anything - after all, everyone else is asleep.
The loudspeaker Brett Tippie alone in the forest. Can you tolerate so much silence?
(Laughs) Believe it or don't believe it. Even though I love hanging out with people, telling stories and joking around, I also enjoy the silence on my night rides.
PROFILE BRETT TIPPIE
Born: *31 January 1969 in Vancouver, BC
Successes
Snowboard pro from 1994 to 2002, Canadian National Boardercross Champion, film appearances in the "Kranked" film series, member of the Mountain Bike Hall of Fame
Sponsors
YT Industries, SRSuntour, Maloja, IXS, Magura, Armour Ryders, Ergon, Spank, Enve, Vittoria, OneUp, BicycleHub Shop, Painthouse Custom Airbrush Aava Hotel Whistler
Website www.bretttippie.com
Laurin Lehner
Editor
