Ahead of the holiday this week, Hailey Moore took part in Treehouse Cyclery and the Radical Adventure Riders’ Denver Cranksgiving event. In the spirit of giving back, read on for her Reportage of an event that showcases bikes at their best.

One of the enduring benefits of the internet is its ability to bestow otherwise disparate acts with a kind of solidarity, and for that solidarity to, in turn, lend an amplified power to each individual act. The repetition of an action creates significance and, in the internet age, that shared significance can be called a movement. The barrier to entry for starting a movement has been lowered to simply stating, posting, tweeting, vlogging, sharing, etc., what you hope to do, then hope that others will join in, too.

Although the first Cranksgiving event predated social media, it is a movement that has grown—in large part—because of the internet, and social media, and websites like this one. What started in 1999 in New York City as an alleycat with a good cause, Cranksgiving is now a national phenomenon—a “food drive on two wheels”— with over 100 participating cities in the US (and, curiously, one in the UK) this year. Each event is still organized at the community level by a motivated individual, club and/or bike shop. Designated Cranksgiving events dot the calendar through the holiday season, from September through December. There’s now a dedicated website for would-be Cranksgiving hosts and participants that includes a map directory of all publicized Cranksgiving events for a given year and just enough guidance to get you rolling, but not so many rules as to overwhelm.

The site also includes the general why behind Cranksgiving: one in nine households feels the impacts of food insecurity during the holiday season. As for the what that these events have been able to provide in response? Thousands of pounds of food and other necessities donated to local charities and food pantries by bike each year.

Treehouse Cyclery x Radical Adventure Riders: Denver Cranksgiving 2024

The closest Cranksgiving event to me this year was hosted by the Front Range chapter of the Radical Adventure Riders (RAR) and Treehouse Cyclery in Denver. Treehouse co-founder Alyssa Gonzalez also acts as the RAR FR chapter coordinator, and the bike shop serves as the hub for all of their community events. When Jess Thayer, another RAR FR team member, moved from the Northeast to Colorado, she was surprised that a Cranksgiving event didn’t exist yet in the state’s capital and urban center. After Treehouse opened its doors in late summer of 2023, Treehouse and the RAR leadership quickly organized its first annual Cranksgiving.

“Last year [2023] we’d only been open for a few months, so it was definitely one of our largest events,” said Gonzalez. This year’s Denver Cranksgiving event saw noticeable growth and Gonzalez remarked that the 40+ riders in attendance were “predominantly FTWN-B riders,” and that it was also “special to see the messenger community getting more excited about some of the stuff we’re doing, as well as just to see more diversity in the people who are showing up at our events.”

As a bike shop that was founded on serving as a true community resource outside of any associated commerce—through hosting frequent no-drop group rides, speaking events, and workshops, and managing Treehouse and RAR’s communal bikepacking gear library—establishing a local Cranksgiving event seemed like a way to bridge the cycling community with the broader one.

After riders gathered at Treehouse at a loose 10 am on Saturday, the bunch split into the alleycat racers (manifests in hand) and the non race-paced group ride. I went with the latter group and we meandered to a nearby Safeway, where we then left the bikes a jumble outside to fill our baskets within.

As I walked the aisles—still helmeted, cleats clicking along the floor—I overheard other participants debating the merits of traditional American holiday-themed food versus year-round pantry staples. Someone exclaimed over the sale pricing of Nerds Rope (Holiday colors), while someone else made the case for instant coffee over traditional grounds (“You know, in case they don’t have access to a coffee pot.”). Based on the piles on the conveyor belts in the checkout lines, it looked like most everyone had spent over the suggested $15-$20.

Back outside, the feeling was markedly more jovial then when we’d all entered the store together. I saw some creative uses of Voilé straps, racks, nets, and cargo cages, and everyone’s bags left stuffed with Stuffing and other festive fare. There was lots of laughter over the general silliness of what and how we were packing; one of the small joys I often experience when doing “normal” things by bike. Now fully laden, the take-off was a little sluggish too, as if we’d all ourselves just left the table after a hearty Thanksgiving meal.

Upon returning to Treehouse, anyone who wanted to be considered for the winner of the biggest (by weight) donation weighed their items on a bathroom scale (that eventually gave up). Still, Gonzalez calculates that the event brought in over 600 pounds of food, with the winner boasting an 80-pound haul alone.

The final step of any Cranksgiving event is to deliver the donations by bike to a local food bank or shelter. With some looking more wobbly than others, we cautiously pedaled a few blocks away to a Food Bank of the Rockies drop-off location at Sharing is Caring Ministries.

Suddenly the bags of pasta and grains, canned goods, produce, meat, and other assorted items that had been stuffed into bike bags, strapped to racks, and overfilled backpacks all spilled out onto the tables inside the Sharing is Caring building in a matter of minutes. The result: an impressive spread that would be distributed in the coming days before the Thanksgiving holiday to the Five Points area, the neighborhood surrounding Treehouse.

Over the course of half of a Saturday in Denver, the individual actions of a few dozen cyclists with time to spare had the collective power to make an appreciable difference in a local community. Multiple that by the one hundred other Cranksgiving events and that difference is more significant; it starts to look like a movement.

I don’t always subscribe to the notion that bikes make the world a better place: the industry is too layered and multi-faceted to reduce it to the simple activity that it facilitates. To paraphrase a sentiment shared by Rodeo Adventure Labs founder Stephen Fitzgerald when I wrote about the Denver-based brand, riding bikes is not an inherently virtuous act. But it can be.

“There’s a lot of ways that bikes can be used as tools for good and help build community. It’s cool to show people that they could also be a vessel for community action.” said Gonzalez after this year’s Denver Cranksgiving had wrapped up. Her words made me think about how something’s capacity doesn’t always translate to its potential. But when it does, it feels like that something is realizing the best version of itself. Kind of like the internet—which I’ll largely credit for getting this individual down to Denver on a brilliant Saturday to do a little giving back—bikes at their best have the capacity to do real good. And that’s a movement I can get behind.

(Plus, a very subjective Best in Show: Sully’s Cargo-Mod Serotta)

While this year’s Denver Cranksgiving had an admirably RWYB vibe showcased in the array of bike setups present, Sully‘s Serotta was an undeniable headturner. He credits a buddy with providing inspiration for his lovably “dumb” and strictly parts-bin bike. Here’s a little more from Sully about the build:

“I got the bike from a buddy who had done basically the same build a few years back…and then I copied it because I loved the ride. I wanted something that was fun and I could just ride around town. All my other bikes were too ‘serious’ and dedicated to a style of riding, or too hard to buy groceries with. The frame is a 90s Serotta ATX mountain frame built up with: Crust Clydesdale fork, Alfine rear 8 spd hub, Shimano dynamo front hub, Kogel ceramic BB, Sram XX carbon cranks, Thomson stem, Paul Comp top cap (which was a gift from the Paul crew), Velo Orange Seine bars. Seat post is a pump (I forget the brand)—for emergency use of course. I bought it right before moving west, earlier this year. So rather than sell bikes when I moved…I bought one more. Built it when I got here!”

From everyone here at The Radavist, we’d like to wish you happy holidays and hope you’re spending your downtime with your community. As always, thank you so much for reading! xo