The Radavist

Vacations, holidays, or just plain breaks. We all need them and regardless to how fun you may think this job is, it’s a lot of work. Like, I’ve worked for 8 years in architecture and I thought that was a lot of work. No way. Traveling, shooting photos, maintaining this site, is all work and once a year, I like to take a break.

Granted, the very fact that I’m writing a post today, on the first day of our West Coast Best Coast trip, contradicts the notion of a true “holiday”, but hey, I can’t just leave the site alone for a week!

Lauren and I have been apart a lot this year, she’s been kicking ass in Myanmar doing design research and I’ve been jet-setting around the globe attending various events. So when we had a week or two open in our schedules, I planned a trip.

The general idea was fly into Portland, spend a few days there and then dip down to LA along the Pacific Coast Highway, aka PCH.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with this route, I rode it a few years back on my touring bike, albeit a bit later in the year. In August, it’s a haven for people in the US and around the world, leaving camp sites, hotels, everything booked out for months, making it difficult to plan anything.

Luckily, I’m not a big fan of plans and I have a pretty good idea of where to go, what to see and how long to spend in each place.

The only planning I did was our vehicle. I’ve been wanting either a mid 80’s – mid 90’s Toyota 4×4 4 cylinder pickup since moving to Texas and getting back into mountain biking. Trucks in Texas are crazy expensive and so I extended my search to the west coast, where I found a pretty good deal on a ’96 Tacoma.

It’s red, has a 3″ lift, camper shell and it needs a name. More on that later. Best news is, it runs and will be our vehicle for this trip and hopefully many others.

Yesterday, we did the tourist thing in Portland. Went to a few shops, met friends and took it easy.

It was a perfect day to begin our West Coast Best Coast trip!

How to work the Chris King Gourmet Century
Words and Photos by Eiry Bartlett

A couple of months back I was down in Portland, riding some local hills and catching up with friends who had just completed the Oregon Outback, when an offer of working at the Gourmet Century fell into my lap. I had another tour in the works for the same weekend – it immediately went out the window.

The city of Portland and its bike-friendly streets need no introduction. People there have adapted their blocks to child-friendly play zones, their streets are lined with green bike lanes and there are even designated bicycle avenues.

Spending the day with your family, on bikes is a fairly common weekend activity. Especially for Benji from Poler and his wife Nahanni, who take their two daughters, Olive and Sparrow out for rides frequently.

While Olive is old enough for her own bike, Sparrow catches a ride with Nahanni on her Signal Cycles step through commuter via a contraption called the TykeToter.

I’ve never seen this product before, but it’s genius. The TykeToter goes on in seconds, can be used on any bike and gives the child an early introduction into balancing a bicycle.

These two women looked so happy scooting around the neighborhood that I had to shoot some photos!

Joshua Bryant is a frame builder out of Portland (who looks an lot like this dude Franco650b on Instagram). He specializes in road / touring / randonneur / dirt tourers and coincidentally builds out of the old Hufnagel studios off Burnside.

This frame in particular, dubbed the Fatrob, is a special bird. Built as part of a collaboration with Matt from Folly, it’s a 650b, tubeless, neon pink, SON-powered “get rad machine” – although I didn’t see Joshua get rad on it during this ride. We’ll have to follow up at a later date.

Why do I like this frame? How could you not? It’s pink and a playful mix of old and new school components. Oh and with the Plug, Joshua can keep his iPhone charged to get the ‘gram mid-ride…

Dogriver Super D
Words and photos by Kyle Von Hoetzendorff

I have my rituals you see, and they must be respected. Coffee, breakfast burritos, a Porta-John in that order, my body demands it, directs me. As long as I have been racing in the Pacific NW it has always been the same. I expect it, settles the nerves. Forget about going to bed early, having a protein shake, or sitting in a bath of ice cubes while there is perfectly good hot water pulsing just beyond the walls. Take the shower, have some pizza, stay up all night. I know who I want to beat and we were out drinking last night.

This is amateur racing in your 30s, this is beer at the starting line, long-range intimidation practices, strategic heckles, head games. Fitness at this stage isn’t just about VO2 Max or lactic thresholds, its about the rest of it, throwing life’s little chosen challenges into the mix, try whiskey soaked sleep deprivation giving you the shakes in the starting gate. Not that everything requires a debauched approach; it’s just that it also doesn’t, so why not?

Super D racing, like all types of racing, fits this program perfectly. In this particular case, the Mountain Man Challenge Dogriver Super D, the extended descent is punctuated mid race with a ball buster climb. This would be the  decisive section, whoever could make it through the climb the fastest with a modicum of energy in reserve would rule the day. Alex “KrunkShox” McGuiness would take first place in just over 22 minutes, followed closely by all-pro Matt Slaven and Team Robots very own “Chaz”  Sponsel. I would finish in just over 25 minutes, mid-pack, I would be tired, I would want sleep.

Take a survey and the vast majority of cyclists who haven’t spent a day descending don’t have any idea who strenuous it can be. It’s “cheating” they say as if descending is the unfortunate outcome of so many arduous minutes spent slowly suffering on the cranks while climbing the nearest crucible. In fact, as our frozen water cousins found out years ago, the descent presents its own unique challenge that once appreciated can be developed and refined. Time passes differently here, we don’t chat, life, outside life, must be put on hold, clear your schedule, erase the board, we are talking undivided attention. Your nerves not to mention your legs, butt, back, arms, neck, chest, and abs are constantly on high alert, think Gorbachev and Regan white knuckling their red phones. This race is after all an act that is antithetical to our biological imperative, you are challenging gravity, and gravity has, and will, ALWAYS win.

Why do it then? Take away the wolves, the lions, the tribal warfare and your left with an egregious surplus of need-to-survive.  Chemicals man, chemicals bend reason, chemicals create their own logic, and this is how I find myself hurtling down the side of a mountain, oxygen deprived, on the edge of control, in a race for no money and no fame. Chemicals.

I am not saying that this is better than that, than something, anything else. If you are reading this lovely site then you probably like bikes, and if you like bikes, have the time to like bikes, then your life is pretty good. Sometimes it’s nice to know that it’s good for someone else too. Its chemical man.

____

Follow Kyle on Instagram.