In the first part of this project, we introduce Dylan and begin to explore his approach to BMX. The article then goes on to analyse the concept of 'core' BMX and how modern performative style biking is not as detached as you might first think.

Which brings us to part two, where we discuss and highlight the similarities between the seemingly oppositional scenes, through a discussion with Dylan.

One of the strongest themes coming through in our chat was Dylan's mindset around valuing a 'do it yourself' (DIY) approach. Developed from an early age through the household culture embedded by his parents.

"I think all of that subconsciously shaped my 'anything is possible' mindset. At home it was always: If there’s a problem, fix it or get over it — then it’s no longer a problem. Just a very straightforward, no-excuses kind of attitude. Life was what you made it."

There was then an acute strengthening of this value when Dylan moved in with his dad as an early teen. Talking fondly of his Dad and how he pulled himself together after being in a jam post divorce, Dylan describes living in a one bed shed at the back of a random property and how moving in was a moment of realisation. Dylan's dad had had enough and wanted to set a more positive example for his son.

"He started his own business and worked insanely hard, sometimes literally not sleeping for days, just so he could grind out more hours. By the end of that year, we were living in a proper house. I didn’t have to wear second-hand school uniforms anymore."

A decade on and Dylan Senior has now built one of Australia's largest concrete cutting businesses, from scratch. For Dylan, being there from the beginning and seeing his dad go to work, physically and mentally, was hugely inspiring. Providing a foundational attitude of 'you can achieve anything if you really want it'.

"It was honestly the coolest thing to witness, especially because as he was starting his journey, I started mine too.

That same year, I had just fallen in love with BMX. So, in a way, we both began our own races at the same time. Everytime he had a rough day, he got back up and kept pushin. I took that in. It taught me to do the same. Crash? Get back up. Injury? Push through. Try again."

Putting this attitude into practice, Dylan talks about learning to build a basic kicker with his dad and then extending it as his skill level improved. Driveway stuntin'! This then led to working out how to build legit ramps and key to Dylan's story, figuring out what tricks are and how you're the one in control of the outcome. If you want to learn a particular trick, you need to work at it yourself and eventually, you'll enjoy accomplishment. 

We're now at a point where Dylan has figured out how to harness the lessons he learnt with his dad to achieve his ends in BMX. Combining this with the influence of Scotty Cranmer and R Willy, Dylan is then able to refine another 'core' value which defines the roots of BMX; grit.

Defined as 'firmness of mind or spirit, unyielding courage in the face of hardship or danger', grit is a simple way of capturing three closely aligned traits; commitment, resilience and dedication. 

As Dylan mentions above, it's an attitude you can employ to stay the course, to get back up when you fall and try, try, try again. Most bikers have an in-built sense of grit, it's an essential ingredient to learning to ride and then continually improving and/or pushing yourself to try new and fearful things. 

Failing is inevitable, it's a good thing. Developing resilience allows your mind to be 'trained' in adapting to a situation, to absorb adversity and see it as something to be worked through rather than avoided. This could be something simple like figuring out how to replace a broken chain, to stacking a lip, or something more complex like building a business or learning a quadruple backflip triple tailwhip or wherever it is the kids are at these days. 

As exemplified by Dylan through handling his maiden 'worlds first', a body varial front bike flip. This clip shows how it came to be, indicating the amount of work that goes into the achievement, including 700 attempts over 11 days in a fluctuating journey of learning and focus. 

It's a wonderful feeling. To realise that you are in control and able to develop whatever skill you wish, it's huge for self-confidence and personal agency. It's also highly rewarding, a dopamine based sense of accomplishment through transforming a potential traumatic experience into personal mastery and flow. No wonder it's often described as addictive. 

Grit is not unique to Dylan and not unique to performative style riding, rather an essential part of the contract in saddlin' up on a BMX. This applies to grimey street riders, laidback dirt dogs and ramp monkeys. No matter if you're on the come up or a seasoned pro, without a mental and physical toughness, you're not likely to make it very far. 

Another 'core' value of OG BMX is of course style, described in this context by a suite of three closely aligned traits; progression, creativity and individuality. Interestingly, when considering these as a whole rather than separate, the conversation takes a very different tone.

They're each equally important and when considered in this respect, are synonymous with performative biking. However, it is much harder to strike a parallel when considered as a whole. Let me explain.

As most bikers know, style is what makes something unique, It's an intangible quality that respects (amongst anything else) how something is pulled, rather than simply just pulling the trick. It's where all the mechanics come together; balance, weighting, stance, posture, timing, control, extension and many more. But, instead of the focus being on each of these elements, they're invisible, you don't notice them because that's what makes something stylish; it's both effortless and unable to be imitated. 

A hallmark criticism of the performative biker is that their robotic, rigid, focussed on quantity rather than quality; lacking style. While it's not to say that all 'core' bikers have an admirable style, it is more broadly acknowledged as a respectable and sought after quality in the scene. In my opinion, and it is just that, performative bikers tend to share a similar style, one that doesn't look or feel as good.

Think of it in terms of AI versus humanness. AI can generate something that looks right, but it’s optimised for correctness and output, it's done to meet a standard, to check a box. Incredible technicality, but often interchangeable.

Whereas 'core' BMX is the human side. It’s imperfect, unpredictable, and shaped by emotion, instinct, and experience. A human doesn’t just execute—they hesitate, commit, adapt and make mistakes. When it works, it carries weight because it came from somewhere real. It might be rough around the edges, but it has spirit and identity.

This is not to generalise both sides as being able to neatly fit into each 'box', but it is certainly a stereotype and most stereotypes exist for a reason.

While performative biking is not known for possessing a sought after style, linking back to what was earlier mentioned, it is however enriched with the qualities that define style. In the case of Dylan (and the wider mega ramp scene), the principal motivation of these dudes is progression, fed by a lust for creativity and perhaps less so, individuality.

As Dylan explains in respect of what he finds most enjoyable about BMX and where it started:

"...when I was younger I never knew you could actually make a career or a living from riding. I just loved riding—learning new tricks with my friends, pushing each other, and having fun."

&

"What I love about riding is being out with mates, pushing each other all day, laughing, learning new stuff. But when you're on tour doing shows, you're just repeating the same handful of tricks, every day, for the crowd.

I really enjoyed some of the European show tours—because they’d include a mini “best trick” comp inside the show format. We all pushed each other to land something new, and for a second, I forgot there was even a crowd. It felt like we were just back home having a session with the boys."

A fascination for creativity and progression borne out of the influence of Scotty Cranmer, a pioneer in blending disciplines and developing the now commonplace 'big trick' or 'mega ramp' style of park riding.

Dylan also talks about the wonder of having creative control as a biker:

"...you're the one in control of the outcome. If you want to learn a certain trick, you have to put in the work, no one else can help. And as much as everyone these days likes an easy way out I think a good old 'do stuff for yourself' approach is so addictive. Also, there are endless ways to keep progressing so there is no way you can get bored with riding because it's never the same."

There is no doubt that performative bikers are bosses at advancing the frontier of stadium trickery. It's what they do, as a personal motivation and equally, in selling tickets for their touring company overlords. Creativity is also easily argued as another feature of performative biking. 

It's a little harder to argue for individuality being a defining feature. I am however reluctant to make too many comments in this vein in that individuality is somewhat subjective and diplomatically, could be used to describe anyone riding BMX. In a way, it's able to be reasoned that performative biking is individualistic in that it's a small subsect of the broader BMX community, with it's own aspirations and distinct characteristics. 

To finish this section, I'll once again highlight reluctance, this time in suggesting that 'core' bikers are the arbiters and gatekeepers of style. One mans version of stylish may vastly differ from another mans. Nonetheless, the version of style which hits home for me will always be that which feels closest to the root of BMX; raw, improvised, effortless, fast and rebellious. 

Having explored the overlapping themes of a DIY attitude, grit and style, the argument has been made that 'core' and performative bikers share fundamental principles, despite the facade looking very different.

One other quality that I wanted to highlight is something not necessarily critical to 'core' biking. It is however universally accepted as a shared trait and one that shone through in Dylan's responses. So what is this trait? It's being a well-rounded person; grounded, self-aware, kind and supportive.

Fully accepting that this could take on a range of meanings, I'm happy for it to be interpreted in however you see fit. In the case of Dylan, it's best detailed in his own words.

"I remember starting to have favourite riders and all the little bits of attention they gave me at the skate park and how much that meant to me, especially in the moment. So I always have time to give back to literally anyone because I can still appreciate every little moment someone gave me when I was growing up.

The big stadium shows sometimes feel super disconnected from the crowd so no matter what, I always spend time (somtimes up to an hour) signing and taking photos with the 1000’s of people who've came to watch our show.

Even if 99% of them don’t even know who you are, it doesn’t matter. They came to watch and all we are is characters in that show so they're just stoked to meet the riders who just performed. Even spending 2 seconds can make them smile for the next year because I can literally remember being on the other side of the fence a few years ago.

And then who knows maybe one person feels so special in the moment that it inspires them to make their dreams become a reality."

Finally, Dylan demonstrates a high level of maturity for a 23 year old. Be it a result of having travelled so extensively, or not being gifted anything he's earnt; the kid has journeyed full circle from learning to love the essence of biking as a grom to desiring the more superficial parts (fame, sponsors, money, clout) to landing back at the foothills of BMX purity.

"But after nearly two years of that life, I realised none of it really matters. What I love about riding is being out with mates, pushing each other all day, laughing, learning new stuff. But when you're on tour doing shows, you're just repeating the same handful of tricks, every day for the crowd. And for me, that started to take the love out of it.

I just enjoy being home, out in the bush, far from the cities and crowds. Just riding my bike. Having fun. Like I did growing up with friends and family. And yeah, I’d still love to win 3 X Games gold medals. Because I always said I would, not because I think it’ll make me happier but because I know I can, and I’ve come this far already. So I will."

Let us appreciate the bombast of spectacle and the spiritual soul of OG biking. The apparent divide is less a reality, more a reflection of a passion for the wider pasttime of two-wheeled creativity. Each comprise the same drive to progress, to feel a feeling and connect with like-minded weirdos.

Dylan’s story isn't meant to resolve the debate around what's 'core' and if one approach is more legit than the other; it's just an opinion that attemps to bring in important themes of openness and curiosity.

At its heart, BMX is still about showing up, figuring it out for yourself, and finding meaning in the process. Whether that plays out on a backyard ramp, a back alley or a mega-ramp, it's beside the point. 

Forced optimism dismissed, the differences of each BMX subsect work to strengthen the individual components. In turn, every fool that pedals a bike benefits as BMX grows. Each can co-exist harmoniously, in isolation of corrupting the other. Dylan and his story are but one vein in the biking body that continues to function in good health.