The Radavist

On February 25th, Ritchey and The Bike Sauce hosted a Ritchey Hangout event at Maverick Cycles in Whittier, CA. The meetup brought together cyclists from across Southern California in appreciation of all things Ritchey. The event was part group ride and part social hang, punctuated deliciously with a lunchtime BBQ pop-up from Bep Bep Kitchen.

You’ll never know who you’ll meet while on the road, and sometimes, the characters floating around campsites within our National Forests are as colorful as the natural surroundings. While John and Cari were cashing in on some long overdue R&R last week in the mountains of New Mexico, they met a fella with a Ritchey Annapurna and quite the story to tell…

Forever tinkering with his bikes, John recently wrapped up a complete restoration of the 1983 Ritchey Everest that we looked at last year. Remember? The gray one? The bike appeared to have been subjected to a sloppy respray at some point in the early 2000s, and John wanted to restore the bike to its formal glory. 

He pinged Rick at D&D, the guy who has painted more Ritchey frames than perhaps anyone, to respray the Everest in Imron Bright Gold paint with the uber-rare Palo Alto Ritchey decals to finish the look. The Everest also had a “touring package” added when Tom built the frame in 1983. Since John acquired it, the Everest has always felt a bit naked without the proper racks…

We know John’s posted a lot of vintage projects over the past few years, but this might be the best yet! Let’s check it out below…

A reggae legend once told me, ‘the hardest part is the start!’ But let me tell you, Johnny Osbourne never faced the world of long-distance cycling. The start may be tough, but stopping, oh, stopping is a beast of its own. It’s like vertigo, a swirling chaos that leaves you dizzy and disoriented, a sailor back on solid ground after weeks at sea or a diver breaking the surface after a deep plunge. Everything becomes surreal, nothing makes sense, and you yearn for something to hold on to, but there’s nothing, just an immovable void.

For fourteen relentless days, I pushed forward, covering at the very least a hundred kilometers a day, as landscapes, faces, and weather slowly morphed around me. From scorching 43-degree heat to 10-degree cold which by then felt like -10! I rode on. My journey, a long bike ride from my new home in Portugal to my old abode in Belgium, driven by a selfish urge, wrapped in a cloak of nobility.

We’re back with our second eclectic mix of findings from the 2023 Sea Otter Classic. Yesterday’s post just wasn’t enough to tell you about all the new bikes, old bikes, products, and people Josh and Travis encountered this year. In fact, we reckon even two posts won’t be enough. There’s a lot to cover, so settle in with your morning coffee and enjoy.

Next week, I’m loading up the Troopy and heading West to the Keyesville Classic. Every year, vintage mountain bike aficionados descend upon the Kern valley to race vintage bikes while the “real” race occurs. This vintage race is quite the spectacle, and if you’ve never seen it in person, you ought to check out Erik Hillard’s gallery he shot a few years ago for The Radavist.

At any rate, I just finished buttoning up my bike I’ll be bringing to Keyesville to ride and, yes, take part in the vintage race. Let’s check it out in detail below…