The Radavist

Here I am again, writing about a World Championships experience. This one is just a touch more debaucherous than the last one I attended in early October. I swapped the UCI regulations for one rule to rule them all: if you win you must get a tattoo. Single Speed Cyclocross World Champs is the not-so-underground, fringe, party event that calls itself a World Champs and, in many ways, it is. But instead of (doing drugs) (marginal gains) that make you faster, you do things that make you slower like keg stands, whiskey shots, and hot dog hand-ups.

With my camera bag loaded with several boxes of 120 film and a brick of Ilford HP5, I pulled out of the driveway bound for Hartford, CT; I paused, wondering how I arrived at this moment. All of the little moves and influences resulted in me lugging two cameras with a combined age of some 75 years to shoot the season’s most crucial cyclocross race. There is a “Butterfly Effect” moment in our lives that leads us to our current state, and somewhere amongst the mud, dust, and thousands of shutter actuation is mine.

Amidst the fray of cyclocross athletes regularly pushing themselves to the limit, the unsung heroes of this discipline are churning away behind the scenes. From mechanics and photographers to directors and coaches, the lesser-known faces that keep this crazy sport going are all unique people with their own stories, but not ones you’ll likely hear about in race coverage. So enjoy a glimpse into the world of the people on the outside of the tape – we hope it inspires you to take a walk through the paddock at the next race you attend and look a little closer.

Years ago, when I expressed my aspirations to become a cycling photographer, a very talented friend helped me put things into perspective. “Remember,” he said, “What you are trying to achieve is the equivalent of wanting to be an NFL photographer while living in Japan.”

I knew what he was saying was not to discourage me; he had also worked for various cycling outlets over the years, writing and occasionally shooting with well-known names in professional cycling. His frequent flyer miles were piling up, and it was merely a side hustle. “You can do it,” he told me, “but as someone once told me, you must accept living like a dog.”

The following is a love letter to Cyclocross and in particular photographing cyclocross. During the 2018-2019 season, I was blessed to attend a few races and got a chance to shoot freely and candidly with no one expecting anything from me but everyone letting me in and close. I had no idea what was about to happen to me, under the lashing rain of Overijse, a small cold flemish town, I fell in love with cycling once again, a way I never expected, cold, easy, mind-blowing and everlasting.

“We get to play like kids in the mud but as adults, what else could be better?” – Rebecca Gross

A strange sensation grips the mind when a long drive begins in the darkness of predawn. The city remains still, holding onto its final few hours of sleep, and the highway remains virtually empty. There is a promise in the loneliness of the opening hours of long highway travel. Exits flutter by in the darkness; distant lights of tractor-trailers and roadside oasis’ are the only possible signs of life beyond the confines of my car. The falling snow has narrowed my concentration to the reflecting lines on the asphalt as I navigate south and west on my way to Fayetteville, Arkansas, for this year’s Cyclocross World Championships.

Act One: We Can’t Stop Here, This is Nats Country!

In which our anti-hero-TeamLifeLOL-genderwhatever sets the stage with cold takes on Chicago-lite.

What a December it was for The Cyclocross in Chicago. I’ve seen a few different versions of this: rain and sleet off Lake Michigan for Montrose; 60 degrees (and a hot tub at both!), bitter cold and wind at Afterglow; and for USAC CX Nationals in Wheaton, IL, there was a complete fall-to-winter seasonal transition.

Since 2014, Dan Schaumann has been a full-time professor at University of Illinois at Chicago’s School of Design and runs a R+D lab within the Department of Ophthalmology. In addition to his teaching duties, various design-related past times, and riding/racing bikes, Dan has been building frames as Pachyderm Bikes out of the Chicago-based Bubbly Dynamics co-op workshop and now from his own garage shop space. Through peer and self-teaching at Bubbly, Dan honed his craft and has built race bikes for himself, teammates, and friends. He’s even started teaching others the art of framebuilding. Continue reading below for Dan’s description of the cyclocross bike he built for his friend Sam Scipio and displayed at the 2021 Philly Bike Expo, as documented by Jarrod Bunk‘s imagery.

As I sit here looking through the rolls of film shot at this year’s Cyclocross Nationals in Chicago, IL, the feeling is bittersweet. Traditionally, Nationals marks the end of the domestic racing season, but as I wandered through the parking lot catching up with old friends, it felt more like the beginning of something. After two years of canceled events, postponements, and isolation, gathering in Chicago for this year’s race almost felt ‘normal.’

Here in the Mid-Atlantic we have a great ‘cross scene. Most races tend to have geat spectator crowds, full fields, interesting and varied courses, and, thanks to the highly variable and mid-atlantic climate, weather that spans from the hot and dusty to absurdly muddy in any given season. There is a lot to like in the Mid-Atlantic if you like cyclocross.

The Philly Bike Expo often has a good mix of seasoned builders and others that are beginning to hone their craft. Sam Scipio just started building frames earlier this year under the moniker Jubilee Manufacturing and already had a beautiful cyclocross bike (her second build) ready to show off at the Expo. Today, accompanying Jarrod Bunk‘s detailed photos, Sam talks about her bike and why she’s inspired to be building frames.