Parkour photos

  [flo_one_third padding="20px 20px 20px 20px" class="" ]

Family Flies Together: an inside look at Denver's Parkour

by Matthew Zoeller "We might not be as cool as the guys you see on the internet," says Hunter Neiblum, "but while you were watching them last night we ate all your cereal." Then immediately after doing a backflip off the Commons Park wall leaving nearby pedestrians in amazement at these characters in grey cut-off sweat pants, his friend John Reynolds corrects him, "No. We are the guys you see on the internet." While John prepares his next stunt Hunter adds, "and your strawberry ice cream; we ate all your strawberry ice cream too." Though they may be easily branded at first glance as hoodlums who lack summer employment, after further observation it is not difficult to see that these boys bear no spray cans or skateboards, but they only use what is most important: their bodies. They are practicing what is known globally as "Parkour", a French term originally meaning, "the art of movement." Parkour, however, is much less of an interpretive dance as it sounds, and is better defined as the estranged hybrid of rebel gymnastics, a Jackie Chan highlight reel, and Project Mayhem from "Fight Club" These local Denver traceurs even sound like a band of superheroes: Logan Breitweiser - the ex-skateboarder with a tattoo and a healthy dose of crass about him. Slightly rough around the edges. Hunter Neiblum - the rogue philosopher who naturally speaks of things like fraternity, overcoming obstacles, poetry, and being one with the earth though he swears "Siddhartha Gautama" must be the name of an energy drink (and who, for the record, only jokes about stealing cereal or ice cream). And thirdly, John Reynolds - an all-state track star with a Shackleton determination who will never be as motivated by a coach as he will by the voices in his own head. All three are happy to both show and tell. "Parkour is all about body awareness," says Hunter. "Yeah," adds Logan, "We don't rely on an exterior thing to keep us safe. Like we don't rely on a snowboard that won't break or a skateboard that won't break. We trust our body. If we feel like we can't do something then we don't do it." In between the jumping and the flipping for the Selah photo shoot, these three friends are all too eager to answer questions about what they do and why they do it. Piggy backing on each others' comments and finishing each others' ideas with Jurassic 5 like fluidity, it doesn't take long to get a clear picture of the bond between them and the way teamwork plays such a big role in what they do. Literally after every jump or flip, there are two constructive feedback coming from the cohorts. Reynolds notes, "The friendliness of the community is what makes it so easy to get better." Hunter adds, "We all train together. Even people across the world. We exceed each others' levels and teach each other how to exceed that level. Then we just learn and grow off each other." In most cases when young people join forces and decide to be a team or gang, they give themselves a semi-threatening or dangerous sounding group name so as to give an impression of how tough they are to any potential opposition. This is where our Denver freerunners really surprise your assigned correspondent. When asked if their posse has a name, they are not quick to answer "Bloods" or "Satan's Flipped-out Henchmen", but rather "Denver Family", followed by a chest-banging gorilla-like pronunciation from Hunter of, "We are Denver Family." With no apology, these toned and tattooed athletes proudly call themselves by a name that sounds fit for a youth group and live to back it up. When asked if he bonds more profoundly with fellow Parkour comrades, John Reynolds says, "Definitely, no comparison; especially with my closest buds, there definitely is a reason we call ourselves 'a family'. People who are passionate about Parkour or movement in general tend to have a pretty consistent outlook amongst each other. When you share the same passion and outlook it's hard not to bond like a family." Giving each other only compliments, and even occasional hugs (Hunter's signature 'fly through the air landing with a hug' move), we watched three of the Denver Family in their element during the course of two hours. According the these Parkour practitioners, a sponsored Parkour event is less of a competition and more of an exhibition. John Reynolds has "competed" in Boston and is soon to attend an event Brazil in upcoming weeks, though he says it's really no different than being in the park with his friends because Parkour is just fundamental, organic movement that is still uncontaminated and non commercialized. Though it has its occasional arguments about rank or nomenclature, as Logan points out, "Anyone that's really good just doesn't care. You're just you. That's how that shit works." [/flo_one_third] [flo_two_third_last padding="20px 20px 20px 20px" class="" ] [/flo_two_third_last]