The Radavist

It’s a fun thought experiment to try to pinpoint when the decision to buy a hardtail might factor into someone’s cycling journey. Or, it is if you spend most of your time thinking about, designing, and building bikes like Nick Neuhaus and Daniel Yang of Neuhaus Metalworks. For me, the decision came about 18 months ago when I realized that the terrain that held the most appeal—for day rides and multi-day tours—was continually falling in the underbiking category when ridden on my drop bar gravel bikes. And even though I’m still very much cutting my teeth on more technical terrain, Nick and Daniel reached out to see if I’d be interested in reviewing their second steel hardtail design, the Hummingbird. Of course, I gladly accepted the chance to see if I could keep up with this handmade steel singletrack seeker. In addition to testing the bike on a variety of Colorado terrain, during the past three months I had multiple conversations with the Neuhaus guys about the current hardtail moment; how identity and marketing affect one’s perceptions of this somewhat black sheep trail category, and where the Hummingbird fits into this evolving conversation.

I knew nothing of the lore of gremlin bells when I signed on for Ozark Gravel DOOM, at the urging of a friend after a coveted spot opened in the sold-out 2023 event. The race had been on my radar for some time, though I was intimidated by its 390-mile, mostly dirt, route that starts and finishes at the iconic Oark General Store, in a small town by the same name, and traces the boundary of Arkansas’ Ozark St. Francis National Forest. Anything billed as a throwdown by one of the hardest riders around – route designer and event organizer, Andrew Onermaa – was sure to test my limits.

It isn’t often that I have a chance to stop by a custom frame-building shop in places where I typically like to tour, but upon arriving in Colombia, it was clear that cycling culture in this country is on another level. During weekends in Bogotá, it was not uncommon to see large herds of spandex-clad riders hanging out at coffee shops with fancy gravel bikes or amongst a sea of other riders, dancing on the pedals up to “Patios”, the local roadie hotspot.

Walk into a random bakery in any town throughout the country and it would be no shock to see some obscure (to me) bike race on TV, with a group of abuelas keenly following the action as they enjoy an almojabana and hot chocolate. Catch yourself cruising down one of the many cycle paths in Bogotá and you might just get dropped by a dude in jeans with a backpack heading to work. When it comes to cycling, Colombians are built differently. Read on for a behind the scenes look at my visit to the Colombian builder Scarab Cycles.

Every bicycle has a story behind it, especially those that are dreamt up over a period of years and eventually brought to life and built from the ground up. This absolutely stunning titanium Black Sheep ‘Speedster’ fat bike is definitely no exception. One could argue it’s a bit of a stretch, but in this case, this bike’s story involves skateboarding and a decades-long journey from the East Coast to the West Coast, and finally the Southwest.

It’s cold and blustery in Santa Fe these days so, much like Hailey, I’m riding more pavement than I’d normally like and have put riding the mountainous trails on the shelf for the moment. Winters are great for water levels in the west, especially ones like the winter we’re having this year. Not much gets me out of the house on windy days, and battling headwinds in a 20º “real feel” is not this desert rat’s cup of tea.

Yet, living in a tourist hub, I often get hit up to meet with travelers passing through town. Sometimes, they want to catch up over a cup of coffee, other times; they have a bike they want me to see. The other morning, I got a message from Brian, who was returning from the Baja Divide with a unique bike in tow…

Today we’ve got something special from our lad Dillen at Baphomet Bicycles and Molly Cameron‘s Ride Group. We’re stoked to host a fundraiser in hopes of raising money for Ride Group so read on below for how you can win this bike, built up with lots of MUSA components and accessorized with New Mexico bag makers…

My first taste of full suspension came when I was working as a wrench at a shop in Quakertown PA just after graduating from college and not really having a plan. On mornings off, I’d take out a demo and ride the local trails up on South Mountain in Emmaus. Those bikes were terrible. But at the time, I was young and loving any bicycle I could get my hands on. That was 1998. A degree project when I went back to school confirmed I didn’t have a clue about geometry, handling, let alone suspension kinematics. Fast forward to 2012 when I hung my shingle out starting 44 Bikes, I became solely focused on honing geometry and understanding fit. But deep down, I wanted to build a full suspension bike but I knew I wasn’t ready. Which brings us to the here and now. Things began to click after building hundreds of bikes and dozens of prototypes where I finally felt like I had a grip on geometry and handling. I wanted a new challenge. So in the Spring of 2019, I started acquainting myself with a platform I had largely ignored.