Raised in Oregon, Lauren Wiper transferred to her company’s London office where she immersed herself in the city’s cycling scene. A subsequent move back to the US saw her build another cycling community amongst the tree-lined boulevards of East LA. A transatlantic tale of two cycling cities that she recounts in finely observed detail.
Lauren is taking our call from her kitchen table. Having recently returned from Girona where she rode the Traka, her partner John is nursing a case of Covid so their East LA apartment is temporarily zoned to allow for his quarantine. Brimming with good health herself and nicely tanned, Lauren smiles readily and is quick to laugh as she considers the idiosyncratic nature of both cycling and cyclists.
A youthful 32, Lauren grew up in Oregon before attending college in Colorado where she majored in Political Science and Spanish—a decision influenced by the time she spent studying abroad.
“I lived in the Spanish city of Santander, circumnavigated the world by boat and spent six months in Argentina. And then following graduation I took a job in the telecommunications industry. But as I’d finished my course in three rather than the usual four years, I entered the workforce aged 20. As the legal drinking age is 21, not something I would advise.”
Based post-college in Denver, Lauren had plenty of opportunities for outdoor activities—a nod to her self-described hyper athletic childhood when she enjoyed soccer, swimming and skiing.
“I rode a bike growing up in Oregon but never really saw it as a distinct sporting pursuit. And my first clear memory is of crashing. Growing up on a farm, our driveway was a good kilometre in length with the house perched up on a hill. I was riding this old school 90s mountain bike and decided to just send it before careering straight into one of our fields and giving myself a little scar to remember the occasion. Later, when my Dad was managing a ski resort, I would use the runs in summer for downhill mountain biking. Not particularly well, I should add, but those experiences still come in handy when I ride events like the Traka.”
“But what I do remember was the bike as a means to explore—a way of pushing myself physically. The speed of cycling definitely works for me. Hiking is a little slow but riding a bike hits that sweet spot where you’re making progress but not so fast that you miss things.”
A road cycling Colorado co-worker did at least encourage Lauren to buy a bike—a Surly that she used for commuting and a few bike packing trips. But joining the Rapha Cycling Club was more about the coffee perk than any desire to engage with the cycling community.
“I was happy to just putz around but that all changed when I moved to London.”
With an opening to oversee her company’s European graduate sales programme, Lauren decided to take the plunge and accept the new position. But moving to a new city meant leaving her established friends behind. So each morning she would call in at Rapha Spitalfields to pick up a coffee on her walk to work. Gradually getting to know the store staff, their gentle teasing about not riding encouraged Lauren to ship over her Surly and join the weekly Rapha rides.
As she reminisces, I ask her to describe the London cycling scene as she remembers it—Lauren suggesting the terms classic and heritage immediately spring to mind.
“People know about the sport and that’s reflected in this sense of belonging. And there’s a lot more opinions than I get from cyclists in LA. Everyone gets really excited over the Classics and the Grand Tours and then there’s Regent’s Park laps which are obviously an institution. Do you go on a Tuesday when people are really hammering it or on a Friday when it’s a little more casual. Do you go early, do you go late? Do you want to be seen? For better or worse, Regent’s is where it’s easiest to see all the different groups and cliques.”
Reflecting on this established cycling culture, Lauren feels that riding in London is to a certain extent rule driven—how there’s an expectation that you’ll point out potholes and be comfortable singling out if needed. Aspects of group riding, I suggest, that can be a little daunting for the beginner?
“I’m eternally haunted by this picture of me where I’m wearing short socks. It was taken in Wales on one of my first big rides and I thought I looked pretty good at the time. But years on, I look at that picture and realise that I knew nothing. Which I suppose goes back to that rule thing. The same way that people now comment on my bar bag which, by the way, is staying [laughs].”
“But I still view London as the centre of my cycling world so it’s kind of difficult to separate that out. And while it’s very rooted in tradition, there’s also a sense that it’s continually evolving. Sitting somewhere between the classic European cycling traditions and the States where it’s still very youthful and scrappy.”
With John returning to the States to start a new job, Lauren decided to follow and handed in her notice. Initially spending three months travelling around Europe, she boarded a flight to LA before taking up a new position with the live auctions site Whatnot.
“Imagine eBay and Twitch running into each other. I work in luxury handbags for them.”
Once again needing a new ride community, Lauren rolled up for Panda’s Ponies—a hilly loop through Griffith Park that meets at 6:30am every Wednesday morning and a recognised fixture of the LA cycling scene.
“The first time I did this ride there were close to 70 other riders. But compared to London, ride numbers here can be huge in comparison. And where British cycling is rooted in tradition, LA has a counterculture, cool-kid vibe. It’s still quite a niche activity but the gravel scene is helping to encourage more participants. And this all means that it’s very open and welcoming—a come one, come all, come with whatever kit you have.”
At this mention of kit, I ask if the move to LA is also subtly referenced in her ambassador role with Pas Normal Studios? Whether their colour palette works well set against a West Coast landscape?
“Even though the LA scene is kind of nuanced and counterculture, people have a clear sense of style—both on and off the bike. And for me, that means choosing colours that look absolutely awesome against the desert vibes of where I ride. Add in the Pas Normal chamois – class leading in my opinion – and you’ve got both aesthetics and comfort pretty much covered.”
As for Lauren’s observations on the bikes people ride, she suggests that in London it ranges from ultra-custom steel or titanium to the newest of new, sub-UCI carbon weight-weenie.
“In LA, people don’t seem to care as much. I went on a chilled coffee ride last weekend and saw a Ritchey Outback with 650B wheels alongside the latest S-Works Aethos. So maybe there’s more focus on showing your own personality than letting your kit do the talking for you. You could roll up with a pizza rack and no one would blink.”
“London definitely has the capacity to be as laid back as LA but it’s more predetermined. The groups that I knew in London tended to stop for coffee at the end of a ride. In LA, it’s not unusual to have an hour’s coffee stop before we even start riding. Which can sometimes leave me feeling a little angsty when I want to get going and beat the heat.”
Riding in such a car-centric city as LA, Lauren very rarely commutes to work by bike. And when she does, it can feel like she’s the only cyclist on the road, mixing it up with the morning traffic.
“In London, there are so many other cyclists that you feel this sense of kinship. And even though it rains more in London, there’s this critical mass of bikes. LA just doesn’t have a public transit culture so most people drive their cars to get around. People will ride their bikes on the weekend but they don’t use them as a means of transport. But when the weekend does come around, there’s such varied terrain within a reasonable range of the city. You can ride road or gravel, flat or hills. So the access to good riding in LA is pretty underrated.”
A little apprehensive of asking which city’s ride scene Lauren prefers, I suggest she doesn’t need to answer for fear of upsetting either or both of her cycling communities.
“That’s really hard so I’m going to cheat on the answer. I’ve made some dear, dear friends in LA – I love them to pieces – but LA doesn’t really have an equivalent of Regent’s Park and there’s also something special about the people that ride bikes in London. How they simultaneously have this sense of tradition whilst also being open to new ideas. But LA definitely has better riding.”
With this subject diplomatically squared away, I finish our conversation by asking Lauren why she herself rides. A question that initially causes her to pause as she mentally gathers the various strands of her thinking.
“I ask myself that all the time. Especially when I’m bonking and 200km from anywhere. I guess that riding in general serves that space that I don’t want to fill by continuing to climb the corporate ladder. I love that I have a vibrant, multifaceted lifestyle and that’s reflected in all the varied and eclectic facets of cycling. There’s the fashion and the friendships. The heritage and history. It’s got you cheering on pros that are way better than you. So the why behind it for me, is that it’s a deeply personal pursuit that’s framed within this strong sense of community. They know what it feels like to be on the trainer in the middle of winter when it’s shitty outside. And that’s super cool.”
Feature image by John Wasserman. Other images credited individually.
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