"He wasn't always like this" his dad said smiling, as his son Devyn dangled himself almost elegantly in an upper atmosphere. See Devyn is accustomed to chewing on clouds and birds eye views, he spends afternoons employing his dirt bike as a sort of magic carpet to reach heights where kites reside. Devyn is a devout motocrossian. He competes around the state in large contests where he's up against other frequent flyers. He certainly is the antithesis of the competitive type. He's rather mute, hard to envision an aggressive side, speaks in short sentences, medium height, accompanying dimples, witnessed often. He's happy. Happy that he's found something to call his own. Something that feels comfortable, something that feels like home. As his dad mentioned, this passion didn't develop overnight. He stood on the outside looking in for awhile, dipping his toes in to test the water. If you want to go swimming, you're gonna get wet. Let's just say he's grown gills. He lives and breathes this stuff. But when he's not immersing himself in the metal bicycle culture, he's catching a movie with his girlfriend or just "chillaxin". Get a load of this guy, as he takes a "pause for the cause", this is Devyn Trachuk.