Proceed

Proceed [v. pruh-seed; n. proh-seed] To move on or go forward or onward, especially after stopping.
a Steve Wagner memoir | summer 2015

I can vividly recall being a fifth grader in the mid-1990s, watching out the front window of my living room as neighborhood kids raced up the street on their beat-up Honda dirtbikes. The noisy and haggard-looking machines caught my attention, and I fantasized about one day just owning a motorcycle, let alone the idea of ever getting good at riding them. Acquiring a bike was not going to happen very easily, so in the meantime I would look through motocross magazines and watch the occasional race on CBS Sports Sunday morning television to appease my curiosity. Riding motorcycles is an expensive hobby, and despite my lack of finances I was pretty committed to getting one. I would spend the next decade of my life dedicated to riding motorcycles, and after my professional career ended prematurely, ten years and a major brain injury later I can still remember that chapter in my life quite well.

1995-1997
To satisfy my desire to own some sort of motorized, two-wheeled machine, my middle school years were spent doing whatever I could to earn money so that I could buy and fix up old dirt bikes. The summer before 6th grade, I purchased a home-built mini-bike frame with $50 of lawn-mowing cash and outfitted it with an old snow blower engine that was collecting dust in my family's garage. I worked tirelessly to get that thing running; I replaced the ignition points, cleaned the valves, and turned every screw on the carburetor until it ran right.

I would go through several old motorcycles over the next two years, and I spent more time working on those things than riding them. I gained an appreciation for troubleshooting and repairing motorized equipment during those years, and it wouldn't be until I turned 14 in November of 1997 that I would be able to afford a decent bike. It was then that I got a part time job at McDonalds, and that would allow me to eventually save up for something newer.

1998 - 2001
After saving up for several months, I was able to purchase a Kawasaki KX125 that was only a few years old, and it was then that I would start trying to ride motocross. After spending all my savings on a bike I couldn't afford legit gear or even a real stand, but I made due wearing old coveralls and using a 5-gallon bucket to support my bike. The stares at the local Motocross track didn't deter me; the action-sports craze of the latter 90s adequately fueled my excitement, and almost immediately I started jumping jumps and teaching myself the Freestyle tricks I saw in videos.

Performing a Cordova at the Wyandotte County Fair.

By the time I was a junior in high school I had a decent repertoire of moves including Supermen, Cordovas , and No Handed Landings. Though my few tricks did turn heads occasionally, I was not a spectacular or experienced rider. My lack of a good place to practice was possibly a setback and I always felt like I was a step behind my peers when it came to my opportunities to improve. Regardless, I did what I could just to be involved in the Freestyle Motocross (FMX) scene no matter what. I rode as often as I could despite not having many friends that shared my interest. I participated in jump-offs at local motocross races, fairs, and monster truck shows with adequate results, but I was not entirely satisfied with my performances. However, I was having so much fun just riding and it never crossed my mind that I may one day have the skills to do it for a living.

The fall of my senior year in high school I had an idea. I figured that the steel takeoff ramps all the professionals were using may be the key to improving my trick list, and I badly wanted one. Up until that point I had been practicing on whatever dirt jumps that I could carve out of the hills near my house, and I was never capable of building a jump that provided me with the right amount of airtime or flight path to adequately attempt FMX tricks. Because I lacked the tools and expertise to fabricate anything out of metal, that October I would spend my free time designing and building a professional-style FMX ramp out of 2x4s and plywood. I was the first in the sport to do that successfully and later built a website that made the plans available. I also significantly upgraded my practice area in the large, abandoned lot near my house, and it was that winter that I started to really improve. I rode almost every day. I set goals. I had my friends video tape me so that I could measure and track my progress, and I continued to look for events to participate in.

2002
I had already made a few bucks riding in those small events but that February is when I did what I consider my first professional show at Kemper Arena in KC. I saw advertisements for a Monster Jam being put on there by Clear Channel Motorsports, and when I saw there would be an FMX feature in the show I searched online and called everyone I could to weasel my way into the event. I eventually spoke with a man who was their rider representative, and I asked him what it would take to let me ride. After much nagging he agreed to allow me a spot in the show with no promise of being paid, and of course that did not matter to me. I was just excited to participate in an event with other professional riders. During a weekend in February, I rode well in all four shows and impressed the other riders as well as the event staff. News of my good performance got back to Clear Channel, and ultimately I was paid 500 bucks. It was at that point I thought to myself, "I have a shot at this."

Practicing my "Superman Seat Grabs" at the practice area near my house. Spring 2002.

That spring and summer I kept riding, kept progressing, and kept my sights set on riding in more professional events. I networked online to make friends with other riders, and got seriously interested in making motocross videos. In June I traveled to Oklahoma to ride with a couple of FMX up-and-comers and a top professional, Kenny Bartram. I rode well and made the six-hour drive home feeling confident with my progress. At that point I was eager to test my progress and compare my skills against other riders so that July I went to an event a few hours away in northeastern Missouri. A county fair was having a motocross race and they were hosting a halftime jump contest. I would probably be the most dedicated FMX rider there with the best bag of tricks, so I figured that I had a pretty good chance of earning the modest purse of $250. I had some success during practice, and people watched as I was the only rider throwing out big tricks such as the "Superman seat grab" and "Indian air." However, my day was about take a turn for the worst.

As time was winding down in practice I went to hit the jump that I had been riding the entire afternoon. I wanted a few more runs on the big finish line where we would be doing our FMX contest. I made a rookie mistake and accidently hit a bad line on the takeoff, and I wasn't prepared for how the jump would throw me. Because I had committed to my trick and was already starting to come off the bike as it left the ground, once I realized my mistake it was too late. As I popped off the bike for my trick, it looped out from underneath me. I went the entire 85 feet through the air with no motorcycle beneath me and landed upright and hard on both legs, coming to a stop on my back in a cloud of dust. Both legs were in severe pain, and when I looked over at my left leg it was turned away from my body a full 90 degrees. I had snapped my femur clean in two places, and shattered the heel of my right foot. After a 45 minute ambulance ride, one surgery with another scheduled, and a painful five day hospital stay, I made it home only to wonder if I would continue to progress.

Recovery was boring. With two broken legs I was bedridden, and I tried to find things to do. Since I had just graduated high school, my family insisted that I at least enroll in community college. While I went through the motions to satisfy them, all I could think about was my involvement in FMX and getting back on the bike. I spent lots of time on the computer, browsing internet FMX forums, watching Motocross videos, and editing riding footage for the motocross video I had started working on prior to my crash. In October I started walking again as I ignored my online coursework and continued shooting new footage for the video. Titled REPRESENT, it would be the first of five motocross DVDs that I would produce (or help to produce) over the next few years. Production included several film trips to Oklahoma that fall where I would shoot video with the riders that I had met that previous summer.

During the recovery I had trouble focusing on anything other than dirt bikes; I was only concerned with my growing involvement in the still very young sport of Freestyle Motocross. I drove to St. Louis to watch the Vans Triple Crown of FMX and finished production on REPRESENT, informally premiering it at an after party for the Kansas City stop of the IFMA (International Freestyle Motocross Association) tour. That led to me being approached and asked to co-produce the sport bike/FMX video, A Few Loose Screws. I also continued to network my way into the close circle of promoters, managers, and riders in an effort to stay occupied doing anything related to FMX. Even though I was not currently riding, my life was all about dirt bikes.

Late in November I heard from the Clear Channel rep again, who I had not spoken to since the previous February. He needed a rider and asked if I would be willing to participate in several events on the winter Monster Jam tour. It was what I had done at Kemper Arena earlier that year, and I knew this was an opportunity that I should take advantage of. I had not been on the bike since my accident in July, but I kept that to myself and agreed to the dates he offered me. After riding only a couple times that December, my first event would be Des Moines, Iowa in early January. Fearing that my father wouldn't condone my riding in an FMX show while still healing from two broken legs, I didn't tell anyone I was leaving. After making the short trip up I-35, I rode well all weekend and made several new friends. To my surprise, my dad was not upset when I told him where I had been. He also didn't seem to mind that I would be on tour and traveling to events across the country for the next several months. Maybe he was just happy to have his snotty, 19 year old on the road and out of the house. Whatever his reasons, his support allowed me to pursue a career in FMX. I rode well that winter and was able to begin a career of riding that would last for three years. I would inevitably ride in about thirty events annually, one almost every weekend during the winter and summer months, with a few dates in the spring and fall.