Today, we present a recap of the 2024 LA Invitational put on by all the lovely folks over at The Cub House in Los Angeles, CA. In a slightly different format than our typical event Reportage, the team gathered stories from various participants, who recounted harrowing and ecstatic experiences while out riding the event routes. Then, they conclude with a gallery of drool-worthy two- and four-wheeled machines from the bike and car show portion. Let’s check it out below!

What a truly wild weekend for the Los Angeles Invitational 2024! It all kicked off Thursday with our friends Wetz, Sabu, and Wakako from Blue Lug arriving at LAX from Japan and heading straight off on a really special basket bike ride from the shop. Then it’s an early Saturday morning for everyone volunteering (thanks again, we couldn’t do it without you all!) and riders heading out for their single, double, or triple scoops route options. Whichever route riders took, they got to return to the shop for pizza and the 2024 Blue Lug edition “I Did It” patch (with maybe one spelling error on it ;)

Sunday is a really unreal day at the shop with the street closed for the Bike Show/Car Show/Swap Meet. It’s a mix of our favorite things, so how could it not be the best?! Congrats to all the winners this year who get to add the world’s most coveted trophies to their mantle pieces. Altogether, it’s grown to be one wild weekend that helps raise money for some of our favorite nonprofit organizations. This year, with hundreds of people’s help, we raised over $11,000 for Los Angeles Bicycle Academy! Probably one of the coolest things about the Invitational is the diverse mix of people it brings out to the weekend. Saturday’s ride is no exception, so we thought it would be cool to hear from different people who did the ride. So please don’t take it from us at the shop; here’s how it went for everyone else!

Paul Vega

It all starts when the email goes out that the guys have set the date. The text messages, emails, and phone calls startup: who is in, and how many scoops are they doing? This year I wrangled in one of my best friends for the ride. We talked about what bikes to use: gravel, mountain, or e-mtb. Once we decided on the bikes, we started talking about the meet-up. This year I rode from home, which is a flat 8 miles to the shop. On my way through the streets of Pasadena and San Marino, other riders cruising with killer bikes and Team Dream gear. You know it’s about to go down. The stomach has a little nerves of the uncertainty of what’s to come. As I pull up on the shop, the street is flooded with familiar faces and bikes and riders everywhere. All of a sudden, the nerves change to excitement. Hugs and handshakes to all the friends and before you know, Sean T stands on the table and relays the info of the day. He gets down and honestly, it’s almost unexplainable. The rev of the Team Dream car… Sean revs the motor and a sea of riders start the journey.

We rolled up Marengo and the small climbing turned into heavy climbing at the onset of Chainey Trail. The streets turn to fire roads and the fire roads turn to gravel. The fun is on. Conversations become shorter because we are CLIMBING. At about the 10-mile mark, the clouds break and the sun shows her face upon the majestic mountains. The sweat is pouring down and the roads get chunkier. I rolled up to Inspiration Point and took a break with about 10 others. Chatted up the beautiful day and then made my way through the tunnel over to the station. Where everyone was LIVING for the day. It was truly awesome. I made my way back down the mountain and back to the shop, where Danny and Sean and Carla were high-fiving and congratulating everyone on the ride. Carla handed me my finisher’s patch, which I truly cherish, and we walk over to grab our pizza. I wait for this day every year as it has become one of the best days of the year.

Thanks, Sean, for helping us all LIVE!!!!

Wentz

In 2023, I traveled around Argentina by my bike, and this year I returned to BlueLug.
This was my first LA Invitational and my first experience of an event sponsored by a shop with so many riders.

The American bicycle culture is truly unique, and I think Japanese riders should learn about it. It was an event that could be said to symbolize that. Some people on this ride were riding Rivendell and others were riding carbon bikes. This is something you don’t see very often in Japan. They ride similar bikes together there. The ride was great, but even more so, it was a wonderful weekend where I was able to experience their hospitality and culture.

Holly Barnhart

The morning of the Invitational I was…. cranky. Couldn’t tell ya why, but I really thought I might bail or just do the Single Scoop or start 30 minutes after everyone so that I could ride the Triple Scoop all by my grumpy self. But I had picked up a couple registration packets for friends the day before and needed to catch them before the ride started (mostly to get them their golden pizza tickets). I found the boys just before the start, handed over packets, and let most of the crowd roll past.

It turned out my day was a little bit like the solo ride I had pictured when I was cranky and rolling out of bed, in that I didn’t ride the whole route with just one friend or one group of friends. I bopped around at my own pace but still somehow got to ride with old friends, pals from out of town, homies I don’t usually get to ride with, and even some new folks! It was kind of cool to be on my own adventure, but at the same time as 400 other folks also out on their own adventures.

It was like the sweetest possible smorgasbord of the LA cycling community. The Cub House does a really wonderful job of bringing folks together for a weekend that can kind of be whatever you want it to be! The Invitational is for folks looking to hammer out the course, or have one too many shots at the aid station, or just make it back early for pizza hangs (or ABBA night at a local hipster bar). It’s also for a particular grumpy cyclist who woke up late, but was easily convinced that riding sick trails with a bunch of sweet friends is totally worth it.

Steve Chalme aka Scuba

I am not the best writer, hard to get what’s in my head onto a word doc, but here it is. I also never take enough photos.

This was my third time riding in the Los Angeles Invitational. When I saw it pop up on Instagram, I put the date in my family’s calendar and started my training routine, which consisted of sadly one ride per week. I was very excited to see the Rincon trail on the route, as I haven’t had a chance to ride that one before. I overpacked my Crust Romanceur, 3 tubes, extra tire, and way too many snacks. I was not going to let a mechanical or cramping hinder me from finishing the Triple Scoop this year. My friend Thomas and I hit the foggy start of Cheney, early in the morning, the part I had been dreading since seeing the route, passing through the clouds and into the sun. As we got to the Lowe section, where it gets “easier”, I spent a majority of the trail in the gutter, letting other cyclists pass me by.

Coming out of the tunnel, I was trying to pass a group of annoyed hikers and accidentally dropped my bike going around them. Excited to get to Jimmy and the aid station, I kept on heading down, happy to be at the top of Lowe. Climbing Lowe is hard for me and was a bit worrisome seeing less than 15 miles on my Wahoo, knowing I had to get to 70, so we headed off to Rincon. It was such a nice descent into Red Box and down the first part of Rincon, but bittersweet knowing you must climb back up all that elevation you just lost. After a quick head dip in West Fork, it was time to start climbing again. As I put it into granny gear, my chain went between my spokes and cassette. Luckily a nice cyclist by the name of Greg helped me set my limit screw and I lost my two granny gears.

Pretty sure I bent my derailleur at the top of Lowe. The climb up was a bit miserable. We were at the end of the pack, everyone that would pass us, we would chat about how hard and amazing the ride was, and I’d then give them an ego boost by letting them know we started an hour before them. Descending Rincon was so fun, reminded me how Grizzly Flats used to feel like. The ride home was also the part I was not too thrilled about, climbing out of the 39 and surface streets for 25 miles at my slow pace at the end of the day: not that ideal. Also, great when you get service and your phone pops up with 50 text messages and one from the wife asking if you’ll be home in an hour. So, I took some Aleve, put my head down, and pedaled back to beautiful San Marino, got a patch with Los Angeles spelled wrong, and had my slice of pizza. I was not home within the hour.

Katie Rieger

The Invitational in three parts. Part 1: Mt. Lowe. This thing is STEEP. It has plenty of 20%+ pitches and doubletrack so chunky, anyone who clears it on drop bars fancies themselves a mountain biker. The only reason to climb this stupid mountain is for the tunnel, which fucking rules. The only other reason to climb it is for the (air horn) PARTY TENT. Part 2: Red Box-Rincon.

This thing is LONG. It will eat your tires and brakes alive, and if you wipe out, you’re probably landing in poodle dog bush. There’s also only one “bailout” option that isn’t really a bailout because you still have to ride really far. The only reason to ride Red Box is if you took too many tequila shots at the (air horn) PARTY TENT to think it’s a good idea. The only other reason to ride Red Box is to get Cutty Bangs in Azusa. Part 3: From Azusa to the Cubhouse. The only reason to ride from Azusa back to the Cubhouse is if pounding a Cutty Bang with 3 shooters while bonking makes you believe that you’re having fun. The only other reason to ride from Azusa back to the Cubhouse is… well, there is no other reason. For some reason, a few people climbed East Fork to GMR for the “cherry on top,” but none of them made it to ABBA Night. They say there’s no winning the Invitational, but if you made it to ABBA Night that evening, you’re a winner in my book.

Kyle Von Hoetzendorff

I’m conflicted. I want to tell you how much fun the LA Invitational is. I want to tell you that each year the routes get better, or maybe not better but just as great, only different. I want to tell you that the Cub House must be built on ley lines or a gigantic quartz deposit or some sort of positive energy collider because there’s a fabulous magic magnetism that draws together hundreds of beaming, enthusiastic bike weirdos from all over Los Angeles and beyond. I want to tell you about the t-shirt graphic flaneur opportunity – the bike swap, car show, open air dj taco vibes party that happens on the day after the race. I want to speak to the inevitable pre-ride pre-party, and post-ride post-party and all the “hellos,” “so good to see yous,” and “you’re heres!” All these friends; new and old, out here on bikes.

I’m conflicted because while I want to tell the world, I want to use one of those Ricola Swiss Horns, I want to do a virus that infects all the Garmins, Wahoos and Hammerheads just to make sure the message is received. But, I have this gatekeeping, this “keep it cool”, this exclusivity brain infection that is likely some sort of capitalist Pavlovian directive – and you know what? That’s bullshit. So… if you like riding bikes, you like fun, and you can get yourself to LA, then pretty please find your way to the Team Dream LA Invitational. And the cherry on top? Proceeds go to a good cause. Guilt-free good times, even better than margarine.

Riley Ogden

Woke up late, didn’t check the route, squeezed my tires, filled bottles, threw a cold quesadilla in my bag, loaded the Souvenir Hardtail on the rack, and flew up the Arroyo Seco to the starting line in San Marino. So many beautiful familiar faces, but I knew I’d be riding solo – on account of being slow – ever heard of it? The morning mist was foreboding as we trudged up and onto Chaney. Halfway up the climb, I realized I’d never ridden this before, and actually had never ridden any of what I was going to experience today. Hell yeh. Breaching through the marine layer, I was hit with sunshine and open sky – the entire sprawl below hidden under a puffy duvet. I rallied over the saddle and into the Lowelifes & Fabrica de Rosas aid station.

Bless these folks. The 5 packs of fruit gummies, can of Squirt, and bottle of Estrella slingshotted me across the San Gabriel’s alongside a group of new friends in great spirits. My lukewarm quesadilla, now covered in Pocari Sweat dust, finished the job. We were rewarded with a lightning descent all the way down to the San Gabe reservoir. I was too fried to pick my lines, so I let the hardtail plummet forward as gravity saw fit. A beautiful dissociative shred if there ever was one. Greeting our dusty asses at the 39 was Sean T and volunteers. Yeah so anyways, I took the train back to the Cub House and won the whole thing I think.

Charles “Charlie” Stanton

Hi Sean, I’ve been thinking about how to distill my thoughts on your 3rd annual Los Angeles Invitational. I’ll admit it’s hard to express all the emotions or describe the endorphins rush that coursed through my body and made me high as a kite. Unfortunately those good juices were subsequently pressed a day later and left my body and spirit dry as desert sand. Perhaps if I could nail down a title, I would know how to tackle and convey the essence of our big adventure. Let me know which one is your favorite.

Power feels so good
Mmikey is hot tonight
Nothing to lose, nothing but taint
The boys are back in town
Nicky ain’t fooling round
LA loves you
Must be nice
Roll me over Romeo
Stuck on you
A real prick
Wild-eyed dream
Never drink alone
Green Jesus
La Vida Dulce
Free to roam
Champs d’sleazy
Life’s not so shitty we have to be stoned for all of it
No shirt, no shoes, no cell phone service
You can’t catch it twice
We don’t want to be found
Found my stroke

Mattie B

From Tejas to Califas like I’m Robert Horry, and the LA Invitational is nothing short of a Western Conference buzzer-beater!

This year I packed up my ‘94 Toyota Hilux Surf departing from Austin, TX. Spending a few nights in the desert and many hours on the open road listening to Jamiroquai.

The weekend really starts with the infamous basket ride. However, this year was extra special welcoming our homies, Wentz and Sabu, from Blue Lug. My parents and I were fortunate enough to host Wakako, Wentz, and Sabu for an evening, and they joined us for a Dodgers game where we got to cheer on Ohtani while devouring Dodger Dogs and sipping ice-cold beer!

Saturday was one for the books. My pops and I rode with Wentz and Sabu, and as we all departed from the shop we agreed that our goal for the day was to make it to the Fabrica de Rosas aid station. Like many, we wrote off the notorious Lowe climb and at times felt like calling it a day. But that’s half the fun, right? After the eighth “it’s just around the corner,” we could finally hear the thumping of bass coming from whatever cumbia song Jaime had cued up. ¡Llegamos al la fiesta! After a breath of fresh air, we popped a u-ey and descended the mountain back to the shop. A slice of pizza has never hit that hard.

Sunday is always a banger. Thousands of people roll through the shop to check out the carefully curated bikes and cars and to grab some grub from the various vendors. Some of my personal favorites from the show were the 1st gen Nissan/Datsun pick up and the Marco Pantani Bianchi. RIP Il Pirata.

Cheyne

My first experience with this beautiful rendezvous was the 2022 inaugural invitational. I volunteered to help that year and was assigned the all-important task of doing anything and everything Danny Heeley asked of me. It was an inspiring look behind the scenes at what it takes to put on the only cycling event that brings every type of cyclist together.

The 2024 edition was the first time I could ride it and I was psyched to experience the day aboard my rig.

As we rolled out, I took my time cruising from the back of the pack to the front, catching vibes from all the different folks in the group  (I lost track counting them up to around 200, LOL). From mountain bikers on dual suspension rigs to roadies maxing out their tire width, there was no shortage of extreme rippers. Of course, there were also plenty of cutie commuters, metal gravel rigs, and amplified bicycles. No matter the vessel, the energy remained the same: pure fun and constant communal atmosphere. No one left behind, no one blasting off the front without a few friendly chasers behind them.

The triple scoop that Hoff and Sean cooked up was consistently taking our breath away with above-the-clouds views of LA and white-knuckled descents. I left some sweat, blood, and a whole bunch of smiles out there that day. The memories will last a lifetime.

I wish we could do this every weekend, but that’s what makes THIS weekend so special.

If you’re reading this, I can’t wait to see you next year, you freaking beauty!

Patrick

The first edizione I was ailing and had to be escorted slowly to the finish of the Double Scoop route by a couple of patient friends on a mushroom journey. I was in a fever haze myself but remained enthralled with the scenery and atmosphere despite the exposure and 100-degree temps. Last year I had a blast after I faced a mid-ride poop debacle and again settled on the Double Scoop loop. This year, I was fresh and eagerly looking forward to the Triple Scoop at what has become my favorite cycling event of all time and again it didn’t disappoint. The route choices, the scenery, and most importantly the people, both hosting and participating, are what I will come back for every year.

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