The Radavist

We’re not in Kansas anymore. Certainly not. Unlike the hard bedrock of the flint hills and similar gravel roads that pattern the Midwest, The Mid South (or “Mud South”) hosted in Stillwater, Oklahoma is characterized by its rich red clay. Second only to race director Bobby Wintle‘s finish line hug for every rider, The Mid South has become infamous for its often wet weather that turns that beautiful red clay into drivetrain-eating mud. Re-routing the course is never even a topic of conversation.

Geographic locations and riding can add a lot to the picture when considering what your dream bike may be. Massive tire clearance? Tall or low bottom bracket? Slack or steep head tube angles. Well after riding in an area for so long you figure out what works, what doesn’t, and what you wish someone could just get right. With these thoughts in mind Bobby collaborated with Wilde Bikes to develop a bike that is Mid South approved. How so? Read on to find out a little bit more about this bike from Jarrod Bunk and check out some flicks on the red dirt.

When the opportunity to farm sit a friend’s land is presented, Carmen Aiken’s response was a quick affirmative, but the getting there would take a little longer. On a loaded up Omnium Cargo Bike, Carmen enjoys the scenic route through the Driftless while sharing local encounters and reflections from the road. 

Growing up in rural Iowa, you would’ve never been able to convince me bikes would be a way to go camping. I suppose you would’ve also had to convince me that bikes were cool in general. Either way, my younger years weren’t spent in a saddle cruising down the now coveted gravel roads. Iowa isn’t really on a whole lot of folks’ radar for bikes….heck it’s what most people consider a flyover state. But, back in 2016 I decided to race JingleCross on a whim and was pleasantly surprised to find out it was in Iowa. The only bike I had to race with was my pink Cake fat bike. While putzing around waiting for my race to start, I was approached by two guys who recognized my bike and were familiar with Erik Noren’s work. Logan and Thaddeus told me they had just opened a shop in Cedar Rapids called Goldfinch Cyclery and it sounded like a dream.

“You can never go home again.” Martin O Blank’s defining line from the film Grosse Pointe Blank has stuck with me since I first heard it in the late ‘90s. It stuck with me because I thought, until recently, that it was bullshit. I moved away from Grand Rapids, MI for work and school in Colorado in 2004 but would go back to visit at least every year. And nothing seemed to change. My friends and the city itself seemed perfectly preserved in time. It always felt like home. But after a big move to Arizona and a pandemic, nearly five years passed without a visit. Then, after that time away, when my family and I road tripped Michigan this past July, I realized that Blank might have actually been onto something. My friends and the city had changed. In exciting ways to be sure, but things were markedly different and the area felt less homey for the first time in my life.