"You can't learn style, style comes eventually, you just have to wait!" The sentence comes from bike star Aaron Chase. Unfortunately, Aaron didn't say how long you have to wait. I've been waiting a long time, but there's no style in sight. That's why I want to help. His colleague and brother Laurin had shown the way by hiring celebrity biker Elias Schwärzler. Elias was supposed to teach him the Suicide No Hander. That was our first 500-euro bet. One afternoon, the Austrian accomplished the mission, Laurin flew freehand through the air, Elias put five notes in his pockets - everyone was happy. We wanted it to go the same way again, with me as the winner.
Korbinian Engstler is a cheerful character. No wonder, because Korbi is young (22 years old), fit and successful. Hardly any other German biker is as stylish on his bike as the man from the Allgäu, That's why thousands follow him on Instagram. And that's why Korbi is my first choice as a style coach. I offer him the job: Euro-Table, 500 euros if successful, and Korbi agrees. I chose the Euro-Table because the bike trick looks particularly cool: Twist the handlebars and lay the bike flat between bent legs. Sailing through the air like this is pure coolness, a top gun manoeuvre for civilians.
Korbi orders us to the Weingarten Bike Park near Ravensburg. Why us? Well, if I'm going to get style tuition for 500 euros, I'd better get it for my colleague as well. The green notes are in my wallet, ready to be handed over. I'm full of confidence, because neither of us are beginners. Laurin and I put the fact that the moves don't work properly down to a lack of practice. Because when we ride, we test. And testing means moshing, i.e. riding fast, riding nasty. Because we want to make dampers sweat and forks puke. We have little to do with style. We only need it for a photo and for our ego. That's why we're now in the car park at the lido. This is where the Weingarten trails begin, a sequence of jumps and bends in the German mixed forest.
"Ideal for practising," says Korbi, "but first we'll do some preliminary exercises!"
I can see the boy has prepared himself. "The knee has to push the frame down! The arms turn the handlebars!" I turn and push. Laurin also turns and pushes. "Yes, that's exactly how it should look!" says Korbi. We euro-tabble in front of the lido, but with one foot in the gravel instead of at lofty heights.
Then things get serious. Or semi-serious, because Korbi, the fox, wants to cheat. He guides us to a hip jump. That's a cut-off curve. In freeride German: sharkfin. It automatically sends the biker flying through the air at an angle - you get half the Euro table for free. Without having to do anything! And indeed: I shoot through the turn, the bike tips to the side on its own, now all I have to do is turn in and the Euro-Table is ready! Korbi cheers, photographer Moritz jeers. I can hardly believe it: success on my first attempt at this bike trick? Almost!
"That was great, keep it up!" shouts Korbi.
I'd better not look at Laurin's attempts, because I'm on course for success. Incorrect movement patterns disrupt motor skills. I read that somewhere. So: look at the floor and push up again. My blinkered strategy isn't working. I get less encouragement for the next few attempts, then none at all. Fine motor skills become gross motor skills and then I'm just fidgeting in the air. I'm learning in the wrong direction. Laurin feels the same way, and the Euro table recedes into the distance.
At some point, Korbi has had enough and forces us back to the dry run. There we are in the gravel again. Korbi repeats the movement description in High German. Like a mantra. As if we were slow on the uptake. But it gets worse. Because Korbi knows what we suspect: no airtime, no Euro table. If you want to manoeuvre the bike into the right lean angle, it has to be weightless. This only happens when climbing becomes falling. But if you don't climb, you can't fall. And the freeride brothers don't climb.
"So off to the dirt park," says Korbi, because there are steep jumps there.
Master Korbi rolls off, takes off and flies away. Filmmaker Moritz swings the camera lens through the air like a shotgun on a duck hunt, and we tilt our heads back to follow Korbi. The parabolic flight pushes him into the foliage of the trees. We are amazed. No wonder he has time for faxes.
We, on the other hand, fly short-haul: briefly up, briefly down and with difficulty into the landing. The Euro table degenerates into a muscle twitch. From the second jump onwards, our momentum fizzles out and the tyres roll instead of flying. Korbi gnaws on his lower lip, filmer Moritz stares into space; we are all embarrassed. Suddenly nobody is talking about the top MTB trick "Euro-Table" any more.
And once again, Coach Korbi changes the location. One last didactic rebellion. We drive to his jumps under the motorway bridge. Korbi spent whole summers here as a child, eating spaghetti from a Tupperware box and learning to jump. Maybe now we will too, in fast motion.
We jump until we can't take any more. And want to. No, it's not meant to be. Mission Bike Trick Euro-Table failed, the notes stay in the wallet and Korbi comes away empty-handed.
Am I sad? No, because I know now: Aaron Chase is right. You can't learn style, it comes at some point. You just have to wait. So I'll keep waiting!
NOW YOU: How the Euro-Table works!
Preparation: Try it in the car park, out of the bunny hop. This is the best and safest way to get a feel for the Euro-Table. The worst case scenario is that you slip off the pedal.
Weightless: To tip the bike to the side, it must be weightless. Pull the bike into the air as hard as possible. Remember: no weightlessness without airtime. Without weightlessness, no Euro-Table.
Footwork: Pushing the handlebars down is one thing, pulling the bike up is another. Footwork is crucial for this bike manoeuvre, it's the only way to get the bike flat.
Dimitri Lehner
Editor
