Unicyclists revel in singular thrill
Avid rider dreams of seeing new sport at the X Games or the Olympics
VICTORIA -- A skateboarder has four. A BMX rider has two. Bryan Corry matches their daredevil stunts on a single wheel.
He leaps gaps on mountain trails with his unicycle, hops from log to log at the beach, and even uses it to ride handrails.
The 17-year-old student dreams of some day seeing unicycle events included in the X Games, or even the Olympics. Until then, he rides his unicycle all over Victoria, most of his rides interrupted by commuters eager to question him about his unusual mode of transport.
He's happy to set them straight: No, he's not missing a wheel; no, his other wheel wasn't stolen, and no, he doesn't belong to a circus. Nor does he know how to juggle.
"Unicycling hasn't been accepted as a mainstream extreme sport in part because people have a preconceived notion of it as an entertainment," Mr. Corry says, referring to the usual venues for unicyclists -- circus tents and street festivals.
"When I tell people what I do, they think, 'You're just a clown.' "
The 6-foot-6, 175-pounder has been riding for two years. The day he bought his unicycle, he spent five hours outdoors in the rain, managing to travel two metres without hopping off. By the next day, he was able to stay aboard for long stretches, even if his route followed a zigzag path.
"All I have is a fork, a seat, a seat post, an axle, and crank arms," he notes, listing the parts of his machine. "It's much less than half a bike. Less is more."
This fall, he will be giving classes for novice riders through the recreation department at Saanich Commonwealth Pool. He finds the younger the pupil, the quicker and more adept the rider.
Only after taking up the unicycle did Mr. Corry discover he hails from the same city as the fledgling sport's best-known rider.
He had been riding a Kris Holm Signature unicycle without knowing the endorser had grown up nearby.
Mr. Holm is to unicycling what Tony Hawk is to skateboarding. Mr. Hawk's charisma and skill made him the poster boy for boarding, as it grew from suburban recreation to Xtreme fave rave.
Mr. Holm, who grew up in Victoria, got his first unicycle on his 12th birthday. The simple machine became his full-time companion. "The only time I spent off the unicycle," he once said, "was when I fell off the unicycle."
He quickly became a legend on the sport's circuit, where he founded trials, competitions in which riders confront obstacles. Mr. Holm has won a larger audience with such exploits as riding the Great Wall of China, traversing Himalayan mountain streams in Bhutan, and, most spectacularly, careering down the rocky south face of El Pico de Orizaba, a fearsome Mexican volcano.
That breathtaking descent was captured by Sean White, an award-winning photographer and filmmaker, who is also from Victoria. Mr. White also filmed a movie of the Bhutan expedition, Into the Thunder Dragon.
When Mr. Holm isn't riding his cycle on the handrails of Burrard Bridge in Vancouver, the 32-year-old is a lecturer in geography at the University of British Columbia.
The fledgling sport of unicycling has practitioners who specialize in such fields as trials, freestyle (doing tricks on flat ground), street (combining trials and freestyle in an urban setting) and cross-country.
The most dramatic of the disciplines is mountain unicycling (called muni for short), in which riders confront treacherous terrain. One off-road club based in Calgary calls itself the Unipsychos, an apt name for those who challenge the Rocky Mountains.
For Mr. Corry, the unicycle offers freedom, not to mention a jolt of adrenaline.
"It gives me a chance to do whatever I want," he said. "I can ride a handrail --you're riding a handrail, you're so focused. I can wheel walk, ride one-footed, backwards, do 180s, 270s, jump four or five stairs. I've ridden down stair sets. Off-road, I've probably done 6½ -foot drops."
Mr. Corry has had his share of "hard bails," rough landings in one-wheel lingo. He has detected a common theme to his accidents -- the witnesses usually include young women whom he is eager to impress.
Just the other day, he attempted a no-footer, jumping off the pedals and tucking his legs up as he held onto to his unicycle. The takeoff was sweet, the landing worthy of Wile E. Coyote.
"I did a face plant onto the cement," he said.
"It hurt so bad. Everyone was laughing. I was laughing, too, but it hurt. Anyway, this girl came to talk to me. So it worked, I guess. . . . The life of a 17-year-old male, eh?"
