Mountain biking stars are just as numerous as the different bike categories, bike formats, tyre widths and super trails. And just as diverse. From thoroughbred racers like Nino Schurter, Rachel Atherton, Anne-Caroline Chausson and Nico Voullioz, for whom everything in life is a competition and who devote all their energy to being just that little bit faster here or there. From party kings like Steve Peat and Brett Tippie to lifestyle idols like Hans Rey, meticulous bike acrobats like Brandon Semenuk or Brett Rheeder. And personalities who somehow combine it all, such as Danny MacAskill, Greg Minnaar, Brendan Fairclough, Missy Giove and Stevie Smith. But almost all of them have one thing in common: they are all adults!
A trait not shared by one of the biggest stars of the next 10-20 years: Jackson Goldstone is just 13 years old. He comes from Squamish in British Columbia (Canada), less than an hour's drive from the legendary bike park in Whistler. The young star was already whizzing around the world on his balance bike at kindergarten age. He had his first full-suspension mountain bike at the age of five. He became really famous at the age of eight when GoPro released a video showing him outrunning his father in the Whistler bike park. A short time later, he showed professional freerider Cam McCaul how to ride the iconic "Dirt Merchant" trail - but was unable to compress his suspension fork by two centimetres, even when he stood on the handlebars and started bouncing. And at the age of eleven, he was already so fast that even Stevie Smith had trouble shaking off the young talent.
Parents as the driving force?
When I read in the programme for the MTB Festival in Serfaus-Fiss-Ladis that Jackson Goldstone had travelled all the way from Canada, I had mixed feelings at first. Feelings that always accompany you when it comes to very young athletes. What if he has talent but is being bullied by his parents? What if he doesn't want to do it himself? What if he is too young for his fame and completely loses his grip? I was already aware that he'd totally rope me if we had the opportunity to go for a ride together. But curiosity got the better of me and, as it soon turned out, all my concerns were complete nonsense. Lucky for me.
A bar in a hotel lobby, Friday evening just before dinner: A tanned man with a mottled grey beard strolls around the corner. He is preceded by a small, blond boy. He is limping. But that must be him. Jackson Goldstone. The round face and angelic curls are unmistakable. I had already braced myself for this, but Jackson is really rather small, especially for a 13-year-old boy, barely 5'20" - at least it feels that way. But something else is almost more striking and much more unexpected. Goldstone is in an incredibly good mood and always seems to be.
Always grinning, always a silly remark on his lip. He sprained his ankle while jumping, did a bit too much nonsense. "Well, it just happens," he says. "No big deal." I've only known him for two minutes, but several things are already clear to me. Firstly, Jackson's mischievousness isn't just on the back of his neck. His brown eyes sparkle with humour and when he talks about biking and what he has experienced today, he is almost unstoppable. Secondly, and as a result, you simply have to like him, this funny, small, blond, grinning boy who sometimes seems to consist almost entirely of laughter and curls. "And tomorrow?" I ask. "Are you going?". "Of course," he says. "Otherwise Ike [Jackson's mate from the Netherlands, editor's note] or that Portuguese kid will win." He is referring to Nuno Zuzarte Reis, who at 14 is almost two heads taller than him. "We'll see how your ankle is tomorrow," says his father Ron placatingly, but Jackson is unstoppable. "He's really fast, the Portuguese, it's going to be tight." Jackson shakes his hand to indicate how fast the Portuguese is. And there it is again, that infectious laugh.
Why a narrow victory might be better - and what to do once the photos are in the can
When we meet again, Saturday's big race, the Specialised Rookies Cup number four, has already been run. And Jackson has won. But only just. Extremely close. By 0.07 seconds. It's lucky that the race organiser's professional equipment with light barriers for timekeeping still makes this minimal difference clearly and unequivocally visible. Jackson is certainly very "stoked". The close battle between him and Nuno Zuzarte Reis was at least as much fun for him as it was for the spectators, and you can clearly see that.
Now it's off to the pump track. It's actually to give me the opportunity to take a few photos, but Jackson quickly takes the lead. The manual is his favourite at the moment and he manuals through three, even four pump track rollers, easily manuals 50 metres on the flat, jumps over a small kicker that he and a few guys built there the day before with sandpit shovels, jumps over it again, now with a 180, he lands upside down, rides two metres backwards and then brings the bike back in the normal direction with measured use of the brakes. Then it's the pump track's turn. First Jackson speeds through the normal lap, suddenly he pulls off and jumps over a gap, then he hops out of the top of the steep bend and lands three metres further into the next pump track.
Transitions, backflips - what's the big deal?
All with an incredible ease and bike control that many adult riding technique coaches don't have. And all without anyone telling him anything. He just lets off steam, it seems to be normal for him. Here's a little footplant on a steep bend, then he stands on the edge with a few others and watches the riders. He explains how to hold the manual through several scooters. When I call out after a good twenty minutes and say that I'm sure I've had enough photos now, he points to a large wooden slopestyle ramp in front of an airbag and says: "I fancy jumping over that again."
I'm impressed, almost a little worried, but Jackson seems very sure of himself despite the size of the kicker. He flies through the air a few times with big whips or suicide no-handers, followed by a series of backflips, which the 13-year-old has also learnt, but prefers to do on the airbag - less risk should something go wrong. A good opportunity. He even takes part in the Masters of Dirt Show, a show organised by slopestyle pros, and soon attempts his first ever 720. It goes wrong, but that's what the airbag is for. His father stands next to him with the GoPro, sometimes he too seems as if he can't believe how effortlessly and naturally his son flies through the air on his bike.
All the more surprising because Jackson is anything but a professional. The boy goes to school as normal in Canada, and education is particularly important to his parents. They have sent Jackson to a bilingual school where almost all subjects are taught alternately in French. Of course, Jackson also misses a lot of lessons, but that is difficult to avoid. His grades are still quite good. In his free time, of course, the whole family does a lot of cycling, which should come as no surprise to anyone. A lot of mountain biking, more often BMX, the main thing is two wheels and a chain on the right. And the main thing is to be together, because the Goldstones are real family people and it shows.
Biking is not playing the violin
Fortunately, mountain biking is not like playing the violin, athletics or ballet. The pressure to perform is different and so are the people. And fortunately, the Goldstones are not performance-obsessed parents who try to push their children to achieve successes they haven't had themselves. Despite his young age, Jackson Goldstone is already an inspirational personality. He backflips over huge kickers and shows the pros downhill where the hammer hangs, but he also likes to shovel small kickers together with sandpit shovels and a few mates, form a train over the next best jump or give a few friendly tips on technique when asked. And he wants to become a slopestyle pro one day - with his skills, this dream is almost a reality. In short: he is approachable, friendly, not a bit aloof. And at the end of the day, you almost have to drag him off his bike, he has so much fun on two wheels. Even after several days at the mountain bike festival, Jackson only has one goal after ten hours in the saddle: to stay in the saddle a little longer - one more jump, one more time through the pump track.
His enthusiasm for the sport is as infectious as his laugh and good humour. Jackson is perhaps the most skilled mountain biker of his age and yet he remains one thing: A cheerful, unique, insanely talented and yet somehow completely normal 13-year-old boy. And that's a good thing.
Adrian Kaether
Editor
