The Radavist

A Weekend at SoCal Cross
Photos and words by Julio Boostamante

Julio Boostamante, You know… the local Socal photo dude from Compton that shows up at the Wolfpack Hustle races, local Fixie Crits and snaps a bazzilion pics of all the action. Yeah, well now you can also find me Fredding it up at the Socal Cross Races. Why? Well, because I decided it was a good idea to suffer for 40 mins on a bike.

I’m way more comfortable and less sweaty behind the lens but you know what? Something about racing cross and finishing is well, rewarding. The beauty of it is that anyone can do it. Yes, even me as an out of shape photographer. You should try it sometime! Lots of suffering will be had at these events on any giving weekend but also, lots of good times with awesome people can be had. For me it doesn’t get any better than that! Did I mention you get to drink beer in the park? Yeah, just don’t let the Park Ranger find out.

If you’re crazy enough, you can also do the course fixed in the annual Tracklocross race like some of the local fixed gear homies did. Sounds insane I know but I promise you, it’s more fun than scary. Well for us to watch anyway.

Check out the photos to see what all the weekend fuss was about and keep the heckling loud and the beers cold at the next Cross event!

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Follow Julio on Instagram.

The 2015 Single Speed Cyclocross World Championships in Victoria
Words by Dylan VanWeelden, photos by Dylan VanWeelden and Ryan Richardson

The Single Speed Cyclocross World Championships (SSCXWC) was created in the vision of a giant cultural rubber band snapping in the face of the serious UCI cross racing scene. Trainers, embrocation and skinsuits are nowhere to be found at SSCXWC. The barrier height rule was tossed to the birds and replaced with barriers hosting flames intended to burn your shins. For those that have witnessed the spectacle you know of the past Tequilla Shortcuts, Foam Pit, Thunderdome, Junk Yard Jumps and endless Feats of Strength.

The ninth edition of the dumbest race known to Neanderthals just came down on the polite town of Victoria, BC. Racers follow no rules and live on their own regard, dressed to the nines and leaving sobriety at the door. The only rule is each winner must get a tattoo adorning the SSCXWC theme. This year Mical Dyck and Adam Craig took home the honors with world champion tattoos and golden speedos.

The Portland Collective brought in a dowry of joints as a sacrificial lamb to the riders in hopes to bring it back to PDX for the ten year anniversary. At the finish line racers were rewarded with doobies and the crowd burst into a cloud of smoke. Apparently everyone got so stoned they forgot what was going on and Portland won the bid. Lesson learned is bribes always work.

We sent our partners in crime out to try and stay sober enough to document the debauchery. Here’s a collection of images from eyes of Dylan VanWeelden and Ryan Richardson. Follow more shenanigans on Instagram @dylanvanweelden and @singletrack_media_works.

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Ten years, ten hills, ten attempts at proving yourself to your peers that you’re a fast mofo. Or just an excuse to wake up at 6:30am on a Sunday to ride bikes up the steepest hills in Los Angeles with a bunch of like-minded individuals. I’ve heard of this event before. Year after year, it’s organized by Matt Ruscigno, an ex-BMXr from the NorthEast, which is where the S&M bikes reference comes from: “Feel My Legs I’m a Racer…”

The human condition of putting oneself through excruciating pain for personal betterment is something that Matt taps into with Feel My Legs. You don’t have to win the day’s ten climbs to feel a sense of accomplishment. In fact, for many of the racers, just making it up Fargo Street (the steepest residential street in California) was enough.

My morning began with coffee and a scone. Ok, two scones. Then I hopped on my touring bike, loaded up my camera equipment and went to the start of the event. I could only tag along for the first five climbs but I pretty good grasp on the event…

Enter the CXORCIST
Photos by Stefan Feldman & Warren Fentonand, words by Kyle Scully

This past January, I flew from balmy Vancouver BC to a surprisingly frigid Austin TX to hang out at the US Cyclocross National Championships. The trip itinerary included meeting friends from the internet, watching some racing (the ones that didn’t get cancelled), and most importantly, racing John’s Crash Nationals Race. Unsanctioned “Bandit Cross” style races were new to me at this point in time and I didn’t really know what to expect…