Words by Xave Koen.
Photography by Kurt Teague and Colin Taylor.
I’d like to take you back to that moment, on the Pass of Kyrith Ung, when Borimir, Son of Gondor, holds the One Ring in his hands, and feeling it’s pulsating evil, and the power it might grant him, is almost lost to it’s glorious falsity… Almost. Borimir understands the endless power he could gain from it’s possession and the staunch control that he could unleash upon Middle Earth, but he also appreciates that the Ring cannot be wielded, rather that it would ultimately come to wield him, as a tool for it’s evil. In this realisation he gives the Ring back to Frodo, rejoins the ranks of The Fellowship and they continue on their journey to destroy the one true evil of Middle Earth.
In much the same way, the Halloween Jam is a solid “fuck you” to the evils that plague our beloved, peaceful community; narcissism, self-gain through exclusion, and non-participation for fear of lack of personal profit. Don’t get me wrong, I know all too well how it feels to wake up a little seedy and think, “I can’t be bothered, I’ll just catch it on the interweb later in the week,” but, as Borimir knew, the more you feed the Ring, the stronger it gets. BMX has never been ruled by the Ring, and it wants no master. One “Like” does not equal one participation.
The Halloween Jam stands as testiment to the ideas of the people who would fight to keep BMX humble, out of the all-seeing eye of the mainstream, and out of the hands of the Gollums of our industry, who’s only motive is to have us all enslaved by the Ring, looking only to it for validation.
Supporter
Like The Fellowship, the crowd at the Halloween Jam has dwindled in recent years as The Evil in the East grows stronger and more are corrupted by Sauron’s convenient promise that you can “be there, without being there”. It’s a damn fine thing that, in these tumultuous times, here, amongst the rolling green fields of our Hobbiton, or Dulwich Hill as it’s come to be known, that we find a small army of Heroes living out their peaceful, inclusive ideals in the relatively protected grove of train tracks that surround this stronghold of rad. A tightly-woven tunic of smiles is the uniform of choice for a group as eclectic as this: The Sailors from the North, grimy with coastal tans and secret handshakes. The Dwarves from the Mountains, eager to drink mead and feast on the vast erray of Hobbitons fabled ramps. The Elves of Sydney who make riding their steeds a thing of beauty. Through pure power, speed and finesse, they are a lesson to us all as to what grace and fluidity can exist in a rigid piece of steel. The Upper Council of Wizards, Tom Boorman – the White Wizard of The (inner) West who, like Gandalf, seems to turn up only when he’s needed, never before, despite his knowledge of all things yet to pass. John Young – the Green Wizard of The HighLane, rich in lessons of creativity and shooting high-res arrows from a finely tuned DSLR bow. And David Cragg – the Wood Wizard, who controls all the ply around the Pass of Parramatta and can conjure any shape to form right before your eyes. Without the Wizards to guide us to the grove, we would surely be lost. It’s their passion to do what is right that inspires the rest of us to know where the Light of Eandral exists, and how to enjoy it.
Our stronghold of rad is no fortress. There is always room in these great halls for a weary traveller or someone who’s lost their way and is in need of some direction. We would look to ensure that inclusive, participation-based events like the Halloween Jam are able to continue for the next generation of Elves, Dwarves, Men and Wizards in the tradition of finding solace, freedom and escapism in BMX rather than conformity, expectation and ego.
We need not suffer such fear and doubt over something as small as the Ring, for as long as there is ONE Frodo amongst us, one person who’d throw that ring into the fiery chasm from whence it came, we will have hope. Hope that we may still celebrate our Stronghold of Rad, and hope that YOU will make the pilgrimage, to witness it truly, in all it’s unfathomable greatness, rather than sit and wait to see what sour juices trickle off the grape-vine of social media.
This is OUR Middle Earth. WE determine how much power the One Ring has. Get out there and participate. Yell and whoop and make a dick of yourself, because you’ll regret that you didn’t when it comes to your eleventy-first birthday and all you can manage is to disappear into The Ring, rather than let off fireworks with Merriadok Brandybuck and Peregriene Took.
Supporter
