The Radavist

A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of attending the Bikepacking Roots “Go Bikepacking!” event put on in conjunction with Mountain Bike the Tetons in Idaho’s Teton Valley. I was asked by my friends and mentors, as well as the co-founders of Bikepacking Roots, Kurt Refsnider, and Kait Boyle to come and ride bikes and take photos of the event. Reconnecting with rad folks, riding and camping in a new place, and busting out the camera after a hiatus of doing most of those things sounded like a great way to spend a weekend.

It’s pretty common these days to see professional roadies make the transition into gravel. The racing and even the bikes are pretty similar, so it’s not a big stretch to make the leap. But what about coming to gravel from downhill? Now we’re talking about switching from races that are about 2-miles long with zero elevation gain to races that are 200-miles long with 10’000-feet of climbing. Race times go from a few minutes to hours…lots of hours. And that’s not even getting into how different the bikes are. The switch from downhill to gravel is way less common and a lot harder to wrap your head around…but let me introduce you to Kathy Pruitt. 

I was hardly surprised when he turned us away. After three seasons battling these neon-vested, parking fascists at Belgian cyclocross races, I’d come to expect rejection.

Max and I were racing today, and we’d just tried to enter the Renner’s Parking, the exact place for people like us. Yet the gatekeeper grunted in Flemish that there was no room for our little Peugeot Partner in the lot stuffed with hundreds of camper vans and buses from the larger Belgian teams.

We had set aside that Autumn weekend months earlier, just after having briefly met at a bike race called Lost and Found in late Spring. Matt was planning an extended bike commute through my town and asked to camp in my backyard. I told him sure, I have a fire pit, so it can really be like camping, but I’m going to barnacle onto that trip because it sounds fun. This trip took on many different names, with the goal to write some mockingly weird shit about it, and this one stuck: Tour of the Barnacle: The Chronicles of Holding On. The Barnacle Tour fell through, and a story that will not be told passed between then and this, but hell, we decided to stick to doing some exotic bike trip that weekend.

The following trip report is also available on Amazon Kindle, for ease of bookmarking…

Day 1: Wienerwald or bust!

JEN: Good decisions can be made on a whim. That’s how I found myself on this spontaneous bike trip in Europe. It all started in Vienna, Austria. My friend Bun Daniel, also from Los Angeles, was there, visiting and working with BBUC (short for Brilli Brilliant Unicorn Club), and had offered for me to stay with him. I had plans to go to Spain 3 weeks later but the space in between was yet to be determined. That space in-between turned out to be a great adventure. My bike partner in crime and fellow California Girl, Erin Lamb, flew out from Santa Barbara to meet me. We had one mission – to satisfy our appetites for some asphalt spaghetti draped on the Alps.

Adam’s Performance Synapse
Photos by Spencer Harding, words by Spencer Harding and Adam

A little over a year ago Adam sent me a photo of a rigid 26” bike with a Crust Clydesdale cargo fork on it, which he said was his “baja divide rig.” This would be enough to strike fear into the heart of anyone receiving Nicolas’ emails about the Baja Divide Grand Depart exclaiming “MUST HAVE 3 INCH TIRES!”

Nonetheless, he rolled up to the start on that janky Synapse (the name was crossed out and replaced with Deep Search ala The Life Aquatic). Adam being the extremely adaptable trash panda he is, he made it pretty damn far on the Baja Divide with that rig.

Simon Lee’s Stanridge Speed 77 Track Bike
Photos and words by Kyle Kelley

In 2015 while Simon was recovering from open heart surgery, he decided to piece together his dream track bike, a track bike that would pay homage to his family’s past and the land from which they came. This bike would function as a tool for Simon’s recovery, even though he wouldn’t be able to ride the bike for sometime, the process of putting together the perfect bike kept Simon busy for months.

The fully custom Stanridge Speed is enough to get heads turning, but then you’re taken straight to school while examining the rest of the bike. The first ever two tone Standridge Speed head badge would set the tone and the 77 painted on the down tube would honor Simon’s late Grandad who was an engineer in the Royal Air Force’s 77th Squadron. From there Simon would reach out to his friend Otto Carter, an engraver from Texas to engrave a set of Sugino 75s that would embody everything Simon Lee: his family initials, hometown soccer team, his now repaired heart, even his prescription medicine fit on to those two crank arms.

Tandemonium at Grinduro / Her Version of the Story
Words by Amanda Schaper, photos by John Watson

Editor’s intro: to commemorate both the 2016 Grinduro happening this weekend in Quincy, California and more importantly, Amanda’s birthday (happy birthdayyyyy!!!!), Kyle and I dug up an old Reportage that Amanda had written after last year’s event… Also, we’d all like to thank Salsa for throwing down a Powderkeg. It’s been one of my favorite photo-generators over the past year!

This whole hairbrained idea for tandem Grinduro came about because I royally busted my shoulder at the Downieville Classic in late July. Major dislocation, fractured humeral head, weeks of immobilization, the works. Initially I hoped I’d be good to go in time for Grinduro, but as the reality of my injury set in, I realized that doing such a big ride only a couple months later was going to be a no-go. But for me, not riding was simply not an option.

That’s when the wheels started turning. Riding my own bike might not work, but stoking a tandem would be totally doable since I wouldn’t have to use my shoulder/arm to control the bike. All I needed to do was pedal. And find a captain. And a tandem.

GSC’s first Sunday Social Event: Saddle Workshop for Women
Words by Jen Abercrombie and photos by Crystal Haggard

I was having a cup of coffee with Kyle Kelley when he suggested I host a series of women’s events at Golden Saddle Cyclery. He wanted women to take over the shop for a night, no men allowed. I could do whatever I wanted, but it should be as much of a party as it was about products. With that in mind, I christened it “Sunday Social”, to be held on Sunday nights after the shop is closed. GSC is more than just my local bike shop. It feels like a clubhouse for me. Since it first opened I’ve spent a lot of hours there tipping back beers, talking bikes, and dishing dirt. I wanted other women to feel as welcome there as I did.

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…