Red Bull pro mountain bike rider Brook Macdonald considers every descent he gets to do a "bonus run" after breaking his back on a ride. Photos / Red Bull
Hawke’s Bay Red Bull pro mountain bike rider Brook Macdonald has come out the other side of a life-changing injury. Now he never takes a ride for granted.
I still remember the sound of the helicopter blades echoing through the trees at Mont-Sainte-Anne.
It had been five long hours since I crashed. Five hours of pain so intense I could barely breathe – and of a fear I’d never felt before: that I might never move my legs again.
As a professional mountain biker, I’ve had my share of crashes. They come with the job.
But in August 2019, during practice at the World Championships, I knew this one was different.
I went over the handlebars, landing flat on my back from 3m up. I tried to roll over, but nothing moved.
“I can’t feel my legs,” I said, and time froze.
I’d fractured my T12 and L1 vertebrae – a broken back that doctors said might leave me unable to walk.
No one said those words directly to me, and that silence became my fuel.
Because that’s the thing about athletes: we’re stubborn. We don’t take “impossible” very well.
The next days were a blur of surgery, hospital lights, and uncertainty.
Two weeks in a Quebec hospital, then home to New Zealand, where the real battle began – rehab at the Burwood Spinal Unit in Christchurch.
Learning to walk again is humbling. You celebrate every twitch, every second you can stand, every shaky step. My physio, Quinn, worked with me twice a day for four weeks. Each session I told myself: just get a little bit better today.
My ACC recovery coordinator, Kat Matthews, kept me focused and supported. ACC covered everything – surgery, rehab, physio, flights – so I could focus entirely on recovery. It’s at times like this you realise you are pretty fortunate to have that support in New Zealand.
Five weeks after my injury, I walked out of Burwood unassisted. I’d set that as my first major goal, and I’ll never forget the feeling of walking through those doors. It was freedom.
Still, the road back to racing wasn’t guaranteed. Getting back on a bike after breaking your back isn’t exactly in the rehab manual. But riding isn’t just something I do, it’s who I am.
Six weeks after surgery, I was back in the forest, sitting on my bike again.
I thought fear might creep in. It didn’t. What I felt was pure, childlike joy. I wasn’t thinking about falling, I was thinking about how lucky I was to be there.
Physically, I was healing. Mentally, I was rebuilding. The mountain biking community played a huge part in that. Riders, fans, and friends from all over the world sent me messages and cards. Every word lifted me. They reminded me I wasn’t alone in this fight.
When I returned to competition at the World Championships in Austria the following year, I wasn’t chasing podiums. I was chasing normality. I wanted to feel the adrenaline, the rhythm of racing again. Standing at the start line beside the same riders who’d seen me airlifted off that mountain was emotional. Just being there was victory enough.
Afterwards, during quarantine back in New Zealand, a few mates and I decided to give something back. We ran half-marathons in our hotel rooms: 8m from wall to wall.
Step after step, lap after lap, we raised $25,000 for the Burwood Spinal Unit and the Westpac Rescue Helicopter. My legs burned, but it was the best pain I’d ever felt.
It’s been years since that crash, but the memory never fades. I still ride hard, still race, still push – but I ride differently now. I am not cautious. I am just grateful. Every trail, every descent, every finish line feels like a bonus round.
Breaking my back didn’t end my story. It reminded me how easily everything can change – and how much strength it takes to fight for what you love.
I tell others recovering from spinal injuries the same thing I told myself: never give up.
You’ve been put in a tough situation, but that doesn’t mean your story is over. Set small goals, hit them one by one, and believe that anything is possible, because it is.
I’m living proof that a broken back doesn’t have to break your spirit.
I tell others who are mountain biking to enjoy it, but to ride to your limits. You need to choose trails that match your skills and experience and have fun out there. Look after each other.
These days, when I clip into my pedals, I don’t take a single second for granted. The crash stripped life down back to the basics, my health, determination and gratitude.
If I’ve learned one thing, it’s this: I never take a ride for granted.