The Radavist

Things don’t always go as planned. I awoke after our Central Highlands ride with what I can only describe as the worst allergies I’ve ever experienced. Or as the locals say, “pissa hay feva’ mate!” Turns out, a rather wet winter, followed by a series of storms brought on a serious amount of allergen-related illness this summer in Australia, so I didn’t feel so bad, at least not socially anyway. Still, I had a bloody job to do. We had an agenda and I was sticking to it. For the most part anyway. After all, I’ve been wanting to travel to Tassie for years to ride bikes and I was finally here…

Tasmania, or Tassie for short, has long been on the list of places I’ve wanted to visit my whole life. Even as a kid with his nosed pressed in nature magazines, the landscape, flora and fauna of this island inspired many daydreams about trekking throughout the backcountry. Over the past few years, trips to Australia came and went, never allowing the extra time to explore this island, its roads and tracks. Each time, locals would say, “mate, you’ve gotta go to Tassie next time!” Everything I’d seen made it look like an exceptional place to ride bikes and with a handful of newly-opened mountain bike parks opening, I began to make moves…

Romantic Bicycle Touring: A Primer
Words and photos by Ultra Romance

You can witness all the beauty there is to see in this fine world: Yanni live at the Acropolis, the Venice beach boardwalk, or simply the Sistine Chapel, for example.

While encountering these wonders alone is undoubtedly inspiring and majestic, these enchanting destinations and undulating waves of road in between are enhanced roughly 70-80% of the time when the experience is shared. Add in the romantic element, and that analytic bumps up to roughly 86%, yet fluctuates down to 20% at times. That’s still pretty good!

With the popularity of bicycle touring on the rise in recent years, and justifiably so, the amount of “I’d rather be doing that” inspirational social media content has increased exponentially. It doesn’t take a masters degree in internet browsing to stumble across countless photos of glossy eyed 86% happy couples posing for duck face selfies with their laden touring rigs amidst a backdrop of the romantic unknown.

I must admit, I have gazed at these photos before, incurring wide eyed dreams of one day waking up in the dirt beside a real, tangible lover. Instead I continued to keep company with the likes of my ol’ faithful laminated 8×10 of Matthew McConaughey, propped up next to my inflatable pillow at night. Even still, I continued to tell myself “Bené, you’re tall, strikingly handsome, muscular, your hair is #1, and you have two amazing Instagram accounts… don’t get greedy, you can’t have it all!” And so I was settled into my ways. Just me and my McCaughey laminate, rubbing woolen elbows with the world and it’s mysteries.

For the past few years, a tale has been passed around within our circle of friends about cycling up White Mountain Peak. The story has changed a bit over the years, or perhaps the details have simply been refined, but what I knew was this: three of my friends rode, well, hiked their bikes up White Mountain Peak. A lightening storm hit, they had to vacate the vicinity and retreat to a car, which was waiting for them close to the top. All I ever saw were a few photos from the trip, but it was enough to whet my interest in White.

Fast forward three years or so and I’m now living in California, eager to explore this amazing state in the cooler months. I’ve mentioned to friends various times that I’m willing to take off during the week and do some of these rides that are a few hours drive from LA. Knowing good and well the climate window for the Inyo National Forest is slim, Eric Brunt invited me to accompany him on a return trip to White. Eric was one of the three who summited years ago, the other two you’re probably more familiar with: Ryan Wilson.

That brings me to the background on this ride. White Mountain Peak sits at 14,252′. Still not as high as Whitney or Mount Williamson, California’s other juggernauts, yet it is the only one that you can ride, er… push your bike up to the summit. Hence the motivation with our friends, who are all a little loosely-screwed together if you know what I mean.

Just because we’re all a little crazy, doesn’t mean you’ve gotta make yourself the same in planning this ride, so I’m trying something a little different with this Reportage…

Second Spin Cycles’ 1985 Yeti Built and Sold by John Parker
Photos by John Watson and words by Martin Kozaczek

Unless you’ve lived in a cave for the past 30 years you’ve probably heard of Yeti Cycles. Not much has changed in that time. The bikes are still turquoise and still made to go fast. Yeti has always stuck to its foundation in racing, and the alumni roster reads like a list on the wall in the Hall of Fame, with names like Tomac, Furtado and Graves just to name a few. Yeti outlasted most of its competition during those years as their bikes have evolved only enough to ensure they are as fast as their racers. Unlike some bike companies that either don’t embrace their past and culture or don’t have one to really rally around, Yeti is all about their history and more importantly, their tribe. If you’ve been to their HQ or one of their annual Tribe gatherings you’re likely to see some of the more significant bikes from their past. That lineup is soon to be joined by the bike featured here, which is the first Yeti ever sold!!! The story goes a little something like this. John Parker bought out the tooling for 26” BMX “Motocruiser” stalwart Bicycle Bob Wilson and his Sweetheart Cycles brand, and welded up 3-5 bikes. Needing a new name to distinguish his new bike from a Motocruiser, he chose Yeti, named after a sleeping bag he liked. This is the first bike he sold under the Yeti name from the storefront window of Emily K’s bicycle clothing store in Santa Barbara, CA. It was purchased by a young woman who owned it until just a couple years ago when a chance encounter with John at a motorcycle show reunited the bike with its maker.

There doesn’t have to be a fire to have our mountains scorched all summer here in Los Angeles. “June Gloom” didn’t come this year, not in June, nor in July and come August, the overbearing warmth cast from afar by our sun has certainly required our vegetation to abstain from hydrating.

It is however the desert. We’re just lucky enough to have the ocean to cool everything down each night. Yet, the lush green mountain tops we had all winter have certainly changed their hue. Yellow flowers made way to yellow plants and those intense purples and greens we had shifted to red, leaving our tracks and trails lined with red, yellow and green. Now if you look out across the landscape, it looks like everything has been anodized Rasta like some MTB skewers from the 90’s.

Martin from Second Spin has quite the vintage MTB stable and at last weekend’s MWBA Pancake Breakfast, he brought out his grail. Growing up worshipping Klein, Yeti and Mantis, Martin was able to own various Yetis and Kleins, but never a Mantis in his size. When a trade presented itself, he jumped on the deal for this Valkyrie.

The build spec is period correct, down to the Campagnolo skewers, which many mountain bikers used on their builds. The Cook Brothers crank and Ti bottom bracket have Specialized chainrings bolted on. Martin went with a WTB theme on this particular build with WTB roller cams front and rear, with WTB classic Grease Guard hubs. A Cunningham stem with internal cable routing holds Cook Brothers bars, M730 shifters and four finger calipers.

Even with this nice mix of parts, nothing takes away from this bike’s stance. It’s confident in its funkiness yet still elegant in its form. Having never seen a Mantis in person before, I now understand why Martin was so attracted to these frames.

Vintage mountain bike collectors will swoon over this one, but that goes without saying.

Words by Morgan Taylor, photos by Scott Haraldson.

No matter how you slice it, our little corner of the world is out of the way to get to. We are surrounded by wilderness in all directions, which presents both opportunities and challenges. The two major east-west highways in BC diverge around us in order to traverse the four chains of glacially carved mountains toward the continental divide, and relatively few people find reason to come through this neck of the woods.

Bikepacking with BMXers on Cross Bikes in the Santa Cruz Mountains
Photos by Brian Barnhart, words by Brian Barnhart, Bill Arlew, and Sam Pederson

Introduction by Brian Barnhart

As much as I love bikepacking, I just don’t do it enough. Living in Santa Cruz, it is so easy to surf, BMX, hike or mountain bike, and then spend the night at home. I can’t complain about the accessibility. But when I got a group text about scheduling a long weekend of bikepacking, I was in! The group got narrowed down to two guys I had never met, but I knew we would bond over the experience.

After some planning and a few bike mods, the morning came to pedal into the mountains. The three of us got acquainted sharing singletrack and fire roads, and discussing our packing setups along the way. Billy and Sam had an exciting route planned, now it was time to put it to the test. Three days of riding and two nights of camping in Castle Rock State Park and Butano State Park respectively.

Our bikes and packs created a bond within our group, and also with folks that we talked to along the way. We shared an enthusiasm for being in the middle of nowhere, pedaling our way in and finding our way out. The recently drenched forest was alive with newts, banana slugs, and vegetation, and at night a campfire gave it warmth. We challenged our bodies and were rewarded with endless views and mysterious fog topped mountains. The descents flew by at exhilarating rates, full attention given to every bump, rock, tree, angle and edge. And the flat terrain provided a time to relax and appreciate it all.

We rode hard, and sometimes walked hard when the grade got too steep. We came out better riders and more prepared for next trip. We found that feeling we all crave when we are off our bikes. It happens when the conditions are just right, and our brains narrow our thoughts down to what is happening right now. For us it was climbing steep hills then bombing down the other side through redwoods, chalky bluffs, open meadows, and coastal roadways. Being cold and wet, then warming up as the time and miles passed. Stimulated by scenic overload, quiet of deep forest, and the scent of untouched wilderness we smiled all the way home.

An Intro to Imshi Cycles with a Di2 Road
Photos and words by Eric Baumann

Just over a year ago I began a multi-month frame building “class” with Bryan Hollingsworth (Royal H). He taught me the basics of brazing and then we set to work building myself a frame, one night a week kinda deal over at his shop. I had a jig already so I was able to do all the filing/fit up/lug carving at home, then bring stuff in to braze with Bryan. At the same time, I also had the privilege of having a friend in Mr. Nao Tomii, who showed me my way around a fillet. Between the two of these guys, I had some of the best guidance you can imagine for both lug/fillet frame construction. They taught me everything I know…

Since the beginning, Rick at D&D Cycles has painted the Ritchey frames that found their way to him, including the popular Commando mountain bikes. This irregular pattern was something that the Ritchey factory overseas couldn’t emulate, so the team brought this new Swiss Cross straight to D&D Cycles for the appropriate treatment.

For 2015, Ritchey will now offer up any steel frameset with this paint option. It doesn’t matter if you’ve got an older Swiss Cross or a new Break-away, any of their steel frames can be painted like the old Commandos. Simply contact them for more information.

See more photos of this beaut in the Gallery.

Europe is blessed with ripping trails, from the seas to the tops of the alps. Many of these trails began as footpaths, or cattle trails, or even military roads, traversing mountains, connecting towns or other trade routes. New Zealand, however, had very little need for such intricate trail networking. Being an island, it was easier to go around the mountains, than over them, even in colonial times.

However, if anything can motivate man, it’s gold.

Which is why and how some of the first mountain trails were made in this country. The path we rode on the Stigmata the day before, the Charming Creek Trail, was the beginning of a network of mining rail lines, which stopped just before our home base for the remainder of the trip, the Rough and Tumble Bush Lodge.

Yes, that says “dirt droop”, rather than “dirt drop.” You see, there are magical and medicinal qualities to the fabled “LD” stem – pardon the acronym, we don’t need to spell it out for you.

Benedict, aka Poppi, aka @UltraRomance is a wild one. One that cannot be tamed by modern ideologies, or technologies for that matter. His Clockwork Bikes frame is a time capsule of the old days of yore when men would gather or hunt for their food in the woods. Even when something appears to be modern, it’s executed in a way that harkens back to the early days of klunking. Disc brakes? He slices fresh mushrooms on them and truthfully, he only uses them to stop for a tanning session. The throwback version of the narrow wide chaingrings is just a “narrow narrow” ring. An outer “bash guard” ring pressed up against an inner ring with a spare “rabbit” personal massager holding it in place. Even his “marsh mud” tubeless setup is pulled from nature. Literally…

Chiwawan Wakk Trak Chimichanga
Photos by Jared Kerst words by Ultra Romance

Survival fires, spandex spoon trains, pee tea sipping, mutiny, abandoned bikes, lost and found, etc… Chances are every outdoorsman has experienced one or another or all. 3 years ago Lorde Gaubert brought a group of “Pomeranian city slickers” out to the Chiwawan desert to explore the seemingly endless network of mining and smuggling trails left over from the Republic of Texas days. It was meant to just be a Lycra paced long day ride. Things didn’t turn out so well. Apparently it was Garmin’s fault, or the game trail that could have been a trail, trail, or the empty water bottles with boiling temperatures and tempers….. Either way, they got wicked lost, ditched their bikes, spoon train man piled round a survival fire all night, and found their truck the next day hours before an iconic Texas blue norther elbow dropped the temps into the 30s. It was a harrowing tale, a spandex spectacle all our brüs had heard and laughed about several times. But deep inside, all of us were eager to get shreddy on the 1-trakk monarchy hidden within the 2nd largest desert in North America, and furthermore, to find out if Lorde Gaubert’s curse was merely situational. He does have a reputation, after all…