Conversation – cyclespeak

Harry Talbot / Race chaser

March 23, 2026Posted in Photography, ConversationTagged girona, cycling photography, Harry TalbotLeave a comment

Harry Talbot has just finished recording the latest episode of Race Chasers, the podcast he co-hosts with good friend Zac Williams. Offering conversational insights into the world of bike racing from the perspective of a professional photographer, I dare any race fan to listen to Harry’s frequently hilarious comments and still wear fluoro on the roadside of a Grand Tour.

Growing up in New Zealand, a little over four years ago Harry took a leap of faith and landed in Europe intent on pursuing a career in sports photography. And now, sitting relaxed in his Girona apartment, he takes a deep dive into this creative journey and his ongoing search for the most amazing photograph ever.

cyclespeak
I’ve listened to Race Chasers and unlike other podcasts which shall remain nameless, you and Zac manage to not talk over each other.

Harry
The pod’s pretty loose and unstructured but we have got a system that if either of us wants to make a point we hold up one finger. Or two fingers if we want to interrupt immediately.

cyclespeak
Now that the season’s underway, I’m guessing life gets a little hectic?

Harry
It does. Which is why I enjoy a few days at home here in Girona between trips. I’ve had this apartment for just over a year. In the new town not far from the train station. The old town is super nice but you always bump into people you know so any errand takes twice as long. Sometimes you just want to go to the supermarket, get whatever you need, and go home.

cyclespeak
Living as you do in Girona, it’s a long way from New Zealand?

Harry
That’s where I was born and raised and I try to get back every year. But the more I integrate into life over here in Europe and the busier I get with work, the shorter these trips back home have become. And there’s also the requirement to time this with the racing off-season.

cyclespeak
Because travel is such a necessary aspect of your profession, does this influence your concept of home?

Harry
For a very long time I was confused about where I actually belonged. In the sense that I was living two very separate lives whenever I transitioned to the other side of the world and back. By the time I got settled and comfortable, I would get super sad to be leaving either New Zealand or Europe.

cyclespeak
And now?

Harry
Home is very much here in Girona. A combination of the people around me and having a physical space where I have my belongings, the prints I like on the wall, the same bed to sleep in as opposed to one hotel room after the next.

Giro d’Italia

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cyclespeak
How fast can you have your cameras packed and be out of the door if the phone rings?

Harry
Generally pretty quick. And my bag is packed right now because I got back yesterday and I leave tomorrow. But if I’m home in Girona and a client does call me, more than likely I’ll be out on a bike ride.

cyclespeak
So what does a typical non-work, bike riding day look like in the world of Harry Talbot?

Harry
I’m usually up by seven, seven thirty. I make myself what I call a slow coffee: in terms of appreciating the process and taking my time to enjoy a cup over a leisurely breakfast. I have this leather swivel chair in the corner of my living room where I sit and maybe watch some YouTube or see what’s happening in the world.

cyclespeak
And after breakfast?

Harry
Then I’ll head out for a ride. Usually road but with the occasional gravel route. And when I’m back in town, I’ll pop into a local bakery and grab a baguette for lunch. Then I’ll take some time catching up on emails, editing some photos, booking logistics and checking out race routes to try and figure out where to shoot. The day finishes with making dinner with my girlfriend and spending some time together.

cyclespeak
That sounds like a good day.

Harry
It’s usually a pretty nice balance and I’ve noticed that I definitely work better after exercising.

cyclespeak
Does the work find you?

Harry
I’m super fortunate that, generally speaking, the work finds me. But there was a long time when I really had to hustle. Sending out countless emails and networking whenever the opportunity arose. That still happens but it’s more a case of reaching out to all of last year’s clients before the season gets underway to update them on my calendar and rates.

cyclespeak
So when did you first pick up a camera?

Harry
I’m the youngest of four and both Mum and Dad were super supportive with everything we did. I played a lot of field hockey and then in my later teens—the first year I watched the Tour de France—I bought a secondhand road bike. And it was around the same time that I got my first camera.

cyclespeak
Was there a moment when the camera became something more than simply a tool to record an event?

Harry
When I was in my final year of high school, lifestyle photography was really starting to go viral and I remember following four or five well-known photographers who were travelling the world and earning a living with their pictures. And I found that super inspiring; the possibility of getting paid to travel and take photos. Both big passions of mine.

Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
And that led to you considering photography as a career?

Harry
I was working as a barman in a cocktail bar. Super fun but a very hard lifestyle. And around this time I was talking to a good friend of mine—who just happened to be a super talented cinematographer—and he said, “Look bro, just do it. Work for yourself.” And that push combined with a certain level of naivety led to me quitting my job and investing in a better camera. I should mention that, up to this point, I’d never, ever, been paid to take a photograph. So I just kept on emailing every potential client with my portfolio and posting on social media—knocking on every door I could—until slowly, year-by-year, more work came along and I managed to save up enough money to come over to Europe.

cyclespeak
I’m guessing that was quite a culture shock?

Harry
I was very intentional in the sense that it wasn’t a holiday. I was here to work my arse off and meet as many people as possible. And before setting out, I’d emailed the legendary cycling photographer Graham Watson—he’s married to a Kiwi and had retired in New Zealand—to offer to buy him a beer. He very kindly agreed so I drove five hours to meet him for lunch before driving five hours home again. But it was so cool because he gave me so much advice and inspiration mixed in with a healthy amount of reality. Which really helped the first time I applied for race accreditation—a process that now is super normal—but at the time I had no idea. And that’s how I found myself—after landing in Europe not knowing a single person on the continent—taking a train to Roubaix where I shot the race finish in the famous velodrome. What you’d categorise as a pinch me moment.

cyclespeak
That was in 2022, so if we fast forward to the present day, where does your photography now sit on a scale of passion to profession?

Harry
That’s a good question. Because maybe I’ve lost some of that passion I remember right at the very beginning.

Here Harry stops and pauses

Actually, no. I still feel as passionate about taking photos but there’s more profession that I have to deal with. So I’m going to change it from being a scale with passion and profession at either end to having two separate bars. The first with passion all the way loaded like it’s always been. And the second for profession, which was once hardly registering back when I knew nothing about the business, but has gradually filled up the bar as clients are willing to pay for my services and have expectations on what I can deliver.

cyclespeak
What does that look like on a practical level?

Harry
If you’re shooting Milan-Sanremo you need at least one shot of the coastline because that’s a big part of that particular race. It’s the same photo every year with twenty photographers all taking the same shot from the same place but you can’t send your client a gallery without it.

Tour de France

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cyclespeak
And that’s what it means to be a professional photographer?

Harry
If I was shooting purely on passion, I’d probably choose not to include it but balancing all this with the professional aspects of the job means you take the shot. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not obsessed with taking the best photos of a bike race that I can. Which I like to think is one of the main reasons I get hired: this need to produce great work for my own self-worth or sanity or whatever you want to call it.

cyclespeak
Looking at your 2026 race calendar, you’ve included all three Grand Tours. Which begs me to ask how they differ and whether any present particular challenges?

Harry
There are definitely differences. The Giro usually has more rain than the others. Which means more of the fans wear fluoro rain jackets which I personally hate in photos. The buildings, the roads, the mountains are all different in Italy. The Vuelta is hot and dry and everything is a little burnt and scorched which translates to the shots you take. The Tour de France has cute little French villages and incredible crowds on the iconic climbs. Busy, chaotic and a little crazy.

cyclespeak
So it’s the circus they say it is?

Harry
More so. Completely mind-blowing to witness. The logistics required to make the Tour de France happen are insane.

cyclespeak
Speaking of logistics, how do you prefer to shoot on a race day?

Harry
In a perfect world, I would physically drive every course before the race gets underway. And then I’d shoot off the back of a motorbike. Unfortunately that just isn’t possible, so I use Google Street View. I have pins dropped all over Europe with a little note detailing why that particular location worked well. And most of the one-day races tend to follow a similar course from the previous year so I’m at the stage where I can picture in my head where the race is heading.

cyclespeak
So you drive yourself on race day?

Harry
If I’m on a motorbike then I have a driver and we’ll use a combination of overtaking the breakaway or peloton on the race route with shortcuts to get ahead of the race. For the Grand Tours we usually hire a car because the stages are more often point to point.

cyclespeak
Can you describe the emotional highs and lows of a race day?

Harry
It’s fair to say I’m a super passionate person. And because so much of my self-worth is tied up with the work that I do, each and every race day is a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. A mix of excitement, nerves and feeling super tired if it’s midway through a stage race.

Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
So how does this manifest as each day progresses?

Harry
To be honest, the starts can be a little boring but still a good opportunity to bank a series of rider shots and portraits which might come in handy at a later stage. And then, when the race is going full-gas, it’s amazing and you find this perfect spot and you nail the shot. As opposed to there’s nothing interesting to capture, I must suck at my job, I’m a terrible photographer, why am I here?

cyclespeak
The rollercoaster you mentioned?

Harry
And then I move to the next spot and it’s so good but I fuck up the shot and it’s terrible. But the race keeps going and I spot this short cut but, what was I thinking, we’ve missed the turning because a team car was blocking the way. So I’m desperately trying to re-route as we blast down these narrow country lanes. There’s a tailwind so the peloton is closing on the finish line at 50 kph and both sides of the road are blocked by cars left by race fans. An adrenaline rush that takes you from abject despair to, fuck yes, we made it with 20 seconds to spare and I get the shot.

cyclespeak
That all sounds seriously intense.

Harry
It’s honestly hard for me to explain how it feels. But it’s also great fun. A crazy game of chasing the race and creating super nice photos.

cyclespeak
Looking at the About page of your website, you reference breaking free from traditional sports photography. So are there any cliches or norms that you particularly want to avoid?

Harry
Standing in the same spot as every other photographer, each with a long telephoto lens and freezing the race action at two or three thousandths of a second? It is what it is and you’re just documenting what’s happening. Which is why I call this type of photographer a…

…I’m not sure I should say this.

cyclespeak
I’m sure whatever you say is meant very respectfully?

Harry
This might sound a little elitist but sometimes I call these people camera operators. Whereas on the other hand there are certain people that can look at absolutely nothing but still figure out a way to create a really nice photo.

cyclespeak
So what’s going on in your head when you’re framing a shot?

Harry
What’s in my head is a complete mess.

cyclespeak
It is?

Harry
Sometimes I don’t even understand the way I work. It just happens. I’m looking at everything. Left, right, ahead and behind. Trying to spot anything that I can make a photo from. The people, the architecture, the route and how it affects the race. And then when you see something interesting, you figure out how to make it work.

cyclespeak
Can you offer up an example of this process?

Harry
People can be a great way to add narrative to a shot and tell a story. They can ground the image in its locality. So if I’m shooting a race in Belgium, I’m on the lookout for a Flandrian flag to represent the passion and pride of those race fans.

Vuelta a España

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cyclespeak
A polka dot bucket hat when you’re shooting the Tour de France?

Harry
Totally. And in Paris Roubaix you shoot the cobbles because that’s where the action is happening and often how the race is decided.

cyclespeak
So what was your thought process in the closeup post-race portraits from Girona’s Santa Vall gravel race?

Harry
The reason I enjoy those shots in particular is that I love a clean frame. And I find a lot of what is happening at the race finish to be a little chaotic and messy and often a distraction. So to avoid all that I get in really close and let the rider fill the frame. The whole focus is on the story in their face. Whether that’s feeling fucked or the relief of a good result.

cyclespeak
In our content saturated world, are there contemporary challenges in finding an audience or is it actually the opposite and much easier than it was in the past?

Harry
That’s a really good question. And for sure, there’s so much more content out there. But there’s never been an easier platform than Instagram for artists and creatives to share their work.

cyclespeak
And more democratic?

Harry
Absolutely. Everyone with a smartphone has access to this platform and there’s the potential for your work to be viewed across the world. The flip side being that so much content gets shared that building an audience isn’t always super easy. But from my own perspective, I’ve been super fortunate in the responses I’ve had to me sharing my work.

cyclespeak
Which opens up questions about how we now view and consume media. Because you’ve already published one book of your photography and are currently working on a second.

Harry
That’s funny. I was just about to mention that.

cyclespeak
Because that’s the antithesis of fast media.

Harry
And a book is the perfect medium. You aren’t scrolling down a screen lined with links or advertisements. There are no distractions. The only decision you need to make is when to turn the page.

cyclespeak
So what motivated you to publish your own photo book?

Harry
To me, I see it as a collection—which is why it’s called Twenty Twenty Five—and it can sit on someone’s shelf or coffee table with room to add Twenty Six, Twenty Seven…

cyclespeak
As this visual content is self-created, do you always carry a camera or are there conscious off-camera days?

Harry
There are but, to be fair, I’ve always got my phone with me and I use it a lot. Just on my bike ride today, I took a photo of this building with a super cool exterior texture. But then my girlfriend who was riding with me was asking, “What are you doing?” and giving me shit because it was, “literally just a building.”

Harry picks up his phone to show an abstract architectural view of a building’s cladding

cyclespeak
That’s really cool.

Harry
Thank you!! You can take great pictures with a phone. Which is why I don’t often carry my cameras. They’re big and heavy which I like when I’m working but not if I’m out on a ride.

Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
I’m not going to ask you to name your favourite shots but do you find it easy to feel a sense of satisfaction in your work?

Harry
For a very long time, I felt very dissatisfied. Probably because I knew what I wanted the photo to look like before I was technically able to achieve what I was picturing in my head. And it wasn’t until last year when I generally felt proud of what I was creating. Before then, there was the occasional photo that I was happy with but not nearly as consistent as my recent body of work. Which as I’m so super passionate [here Harry smiles] was a really nice feeling to have. I spent a lot of time feeling really sad about the work I was doing, so I guess this positive change in how I perceive my photography was in part what led to the book.

cyclespeak
And moving forward?

Harry
Even if I have a day where it doesn’t go amazingly well, I still feel that the general level of what I’m doing is enough to make me happy. But the flip side of that, is that it’s becoming harder and harder to take the most amazing photo ever. Three years ago, now and again I’d look at a shot and think, yes, that’s really something special. But as you feel generally happier with the work you’re producing—as the bar gets higher and higher—those stand out moments inevitably become more elusive.

cyclespeak
Is that a good thing?

Harry
I guess I get to keep on growing, learning and improving. Because the thought of reaching the point where I think my work is uniformly good really scares me. I want to keep critiquing myself.

cyclespeak
So what’s the best thing about being Harry Talbot?

Harry
That almost every day I wake up and get to choose what I want to do?

cyclespeak
That sounds really nice.

Harry
Don’t get me wrong, there are definitely days when I have to do stuff I’d choose not to. A shoot that maybe isn’t super inspirational or I’m stuck inside for 12 hours working my way through a backlog of editing. But that was my decision and I’m happy about it. I wanted this job and I really went after it and who knows how long it will last. But it’s really something I want to do and on days when I’m not working, I’m riding my bike or spending time with people I care about. So, yeah, that is really nice.

All photography with kind permission of Harry Talbot / visualsofharry.com

John Watson / The Radavist

February 16, 2026Posted in Photography, ConversationTagged bikepacking, gravel bikes, gravel racing, custom bikes, the radavist, John Watson, johnprolly, mtb, mountain biking, frame buildingLeave a comment

They say if you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life. Which on the surface makes sense but is perhaps an oversimplification when applied to the world of media? Add in the filter of cycling media and oftentimes things become just that little bit more challenging. The grind as John Watson describes it.

Founder and co-owner of The Radavist—a platform relatively small in terms of staffing but one that punches way above its weight—this curated collection of photographs, features, stories and product reviews offers a well respected and much loved window on the world of alt-cycling.

Conversationally candid and never shy of courting controversy, John takes time out to explore life’s ups and downs: what keeps him awake at night, how his kitchen table doubles as editorial desk, and why, when all is said and done, it all comes back to a simple love of riding bikes.

cyclespeak
I see you’re starting the day with a coffee.

John
My second cup. It’s funny that when it gets really cold here, I just don’t want to get out of bed in the morning.

cyclespeak
So how cold is cold?

John
At the moment it gets down to negative 12 most nights. And that’s Celsius.

cyclespeak
Pretty cold.

John
We’re at 2300 metres. So kinda high up in the Rocky Mountains.

cyclespeak
When you’re home in Santa Fe, is there a regular rhythm—a routine—to your day?

John
If I’ve been away camping, then my circadian rhythm has me awake by five thirty or six. But aside from that, most mornings I’m up around seven. I’ll drink some water, do some push-ups, make a coffee before sitting down in front of my laptop to check whether there are any fires on the website that need dealing with. Then I’ll work on the Radar press release articles, check on my emails, and do some writing until around noon when I try to get out on the bike for an hour’s ride. Once I’m back home, I’ll finish up any features, hit publish, and then it’s time to start preparing dinner.

cyclespeak
That all sounds pretty dialled.

John
We’ve got a good system editorially at The Radavist. Everyone works freelance but amongst the assigned roles, we have what I like to call a foundational editor who combines the text and photos to build a particular feature. Then the copy editor takes a look to make sure there are no grammatical errors before I give it a final check, do all the SEO stuff, and schedule it. Where it can get a little hectic is when me and Spencer are both on the road—maybe in different time zones—but I feel that’s just the nature of being a scrappy, small publication. I think it’s fair to say we’re pretty influential but our physical footprint in terms of staffing is very small.

cyclespeak
Occasionally you share photos of you and Cari at home in Santa Fe. Out doing chores by bike, the recent garden project, your workshop tidy. So what forms your sense of home? Is it rooted in a particular location, the possessions you have around you, or maybe a certain way of living a life?

Home (and away)

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John
Back in 1976, Edward Relph wrote an essay on Place and Placelessness—this goes to my architecture background—which touched on the concept that a house isn’t necessarily a home. And for me, this space I share with Cari in Santa Fe is both a home but also our office. Maybe someday we’ll invest in a separate space to work out of but that’s an extra expense that at present we don’t want to take on. And then you add to this physical space our tendency as a couple to nest. We spend the day working 20ft away from each other which makes me smile because I have friends that complain if their wives decide to work from home and they just can’t stand being in the same space together: they get in arguments all the time. Which perhaps might account for all the divorces that happened during the Covid lockdowns?

cyclespeak
And you two together?

John
I’m just really lucky to have a partner willing to put up with all my bullshit.

cyclespeak
That’s a nicely nuanced way of putting it.

John
Cari is super supportive and over the years has really gotten involved with the website on a day-to-day basis. Perhaps prompted by this being our only form of income.

cyclespeak
I get the occasional reference to it being a financial challenge.

John
It’s working but maybe not on a sustainable level. We can cover our bills but there’s not much left over to add to any savings. And that’s a little scary when you consider making plans for retirement. But house, home, place? I definitely feel comfortable here because it has a wide open floor plan that suits our needs. We don’t have kids and most of the space is filled up with bikes and plants; a bike in every room kind of thing. We bought the ugliest house on the block but then my architecture and construction background helps. Our plan some day is to take out a HELOC loan—which stands for home equity line of credit—that would allow us to extend the house, maybe add a home office, so that there’s some sense of separation.

cyclespeak
Like those individuals that work from home but have a dedicated room for that purpose where they go to work.

John
Cari has a little room. But saying that, it also contains our bikes and ski stuff, her artist materials, my tools. Whereas I work sitting at the kitchen table or on the couch. Which might explain why I tend to head out to get a coffee or go for a ride around midday. I was reading about this physiological study that was suggesting how 15 minutes of riding a bike unravels seven hours of sedentary behaviour. Similar ideas that this book I’m reading at the moment addresses—the Comfort Crisis—which talks about our detachment from nature and the gains to our physical and emotional health this prevents. So even if I can’t spare the time to get up in the hills and off the beaten track, my ride to the coffee shop passes through a bunch of trees which kind of scratches that itch.

Landscape

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cyclespeak
As both you and Cari are so invested in The Radavist—both personally and professionally—would you say that’s a strength because you each intrinsically understand the challenges that come your way? Or do the lines between work, home, the two of you as a couple, ever become blurred?

John
Quite a harsh blurring. And I think this maybe has something to do with a certain mindset which allows you to clock in and clock out. But that’s definitely not me.

cyclespeak
It’s not?

John
I don’t think anyone would want to hire me for a corporate position. I’m not really cut out for the survival tactics that come with all that. Looking back to when The Radavist was part of a larger corporation for two years*, I couldn’t believe how completely detached from reality their internal structure was. It was all about ensuring you still had a job and not so much about actually doing the job. Whereas I see myself—I was born in 1981—as more of a hustler. My parents didn’t come from money, there’s no trust fund waiting for me. Which means I’ve literally got to grind and my entire life becomes my work. And maybe that’s why our readership is so engaged with the site and people feel like they know me even though we’ve never actually met before. And what I find funny is the same thing is now happening to Cari. When we were walking around the Bespoked show in Dresden, I saw how they recognised her but maybe felt too shy to say hi. Which can be a little unsettling because there’s always the thought in the back of your head that you’ve just got something on your face.

*The Radavist merged with The Pro’s Closet (TPC) from October 2021 to October 2023

cyclespeak
I like that people think they know you.

John
We get a lot of messages about the road trips Cari and I take. Maybe because it’s nice to see two people so much in love and who care passionately about what they do for a job. A good, positive story in a world that’s rapidly caving in on itself.

People

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cyclespeak
My wife really likes to talk about her day at work when she gets home; in quite extraordinary detail. So I was wondering where you and Cari sit on that spectrum?

John
I’m an April 23rd Taurus—Shakespeare’s birth and death day—so I’m very analytical and detail oriented. And I can kind of hold grudges a little bit—to say the least—so Cari and I can be sitting in bed and she’ll quite innocently just bring something up and, that’s it, I can’t sleep all night. I’ll toss and turn and it’s not like either of us are in this for the money. So there’s definitely an element of sink or swim which just envelops your entire life. Something we both talked about last year: about setting some boundaries and taking some time to work on ourselves as a couple, to do things that aren’t so work related. I mean Cari’s an artist and she wants to paint. She doesn’t just want to design socks.

cyclespeak
Because Cari went to sign painting school?

John
She’s so talented and it was cool to see her come on board in 2017. To see our merch go from being all drab and desert to actually having colour and typography. And what we have right now is a system where if we’re going over to Bespoked in the UK, we’ll fly out a few days early and take in some architecture and the museums. Kind of like taking an art walk with my camera.

cyclespeak
And Bespoked in Dresden?

John
We spent four days in Berlin before the show, which was fun. But saying that, it’s a hard city to shop in because I don’t dress like the people of Berlin.

cyclespeak
Does this same system also work in the States?

John
Say we’re going out to a race in California, we’ll take Troopy* and make it into a road trip: camping along the way and visiting some of our favourite places. Which is good but we haven’t taken a solid holiday—where neither of us open a laptop—in like, never. Even on our honeymoon—which we spent in France—we just stayed on Cari’s brother’s couch. And I was still working every day because we’re not financially secure enough to have full time people that can just take over the reins.

*John’s 40-year-old Toyota Land Cruiser

cyclespeak
You know, John, I didn’t realise you and Cari were married. I did hear you mention on a podcast that Cari gave you a rock, a flower, and a feather, before asking you to marry her. Obviously I missed the bit about you actually being married.

John
It’s not really something I flag up. And neither of us are very traditional in the concept of marriage; all that ownership bullshit that comes with Christian values. So I guess you could say she’s not my wife and I’m not her husband. We’re just partners—in both life and work—and that’s how we like it. If you strapped me into a chair and distilled every one of my moral and ethical boundaries, it would be more pagan than anything. So those gifts of Cari’s were more her version of giving someone an engagement ring. Objects from this place where we’d been camping for a few days that remind me of the bounty of that area: a beautiful turkey feather, a river stone, and a flower that blooms during spring.

cyclespeak
Are these on display at your home in Santa Fe?

John
Our house is just full of these little things that we find. And we’re both really into rockhounding, always on the lookout for minerals and fossils. Artefacts from previous civilisations— which we obviously leave on the ground—but it’s cool to find a spear tip that was once used to hunt with.

Camera Corner

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cyclespeak
Speaking of the physicality of objects, Cari was principally involved in the publishing of the book Camera Corner. How did it feel for you to see this physical representation of Wende Cragg’s awesome photography put out into the world and know that Cari played such a paramount role?

John
Wende Cragg’s photographs document the birth of mountain biking. So for me, the fundamental core of this project was doing a story about a woman who was so influential. It’s about Wende—her imagery and the stories she’s written—and it’s about Christina Speed who did the book layout, and it’s about Cari who led on the art direction and design. And just being able to release this beautiful dove into the universe—that’s so full of positive energy and was basically created by these three women—was quite incredible. And knowing that dynamic, I really didn’t want to be a part of it. I even had a hard time writing the intro because it’s not about me. I just wanted to be there to help out if I was needed. Which was the case when there was a reference to a bullmoose bar and neither Christina or Cari knew what that was. So, yeah, it was super exciting.

cyclespeak
Creatively speaking, you’re a truly talented photographer, you write balanced and erudite pieces for The Radavist, and curate the most incredible bike builds. So I was wondering whether you’ve ever been tempted to pick up a brazing torch and fabricate a frame yourself?

John
First of all, thank you. But I don’t consider myself a great photographer or writer. I can look back on stuff I shot six months ago and I’m like, this is garbage. And I don’t know if that’s just my upbringing—always being told I’m not good enough—or if it’s seeing other people, elevated on a pedestal, that are years ahead of me. Yes, I can document landscapes and bikes really well but…

cyclespeak
John, I really don’t want to interrupt but when you did your Leica M10 review, those photographs of yours that you used to illustrate the piece were stunning. Beautiful landscapes but there’s a shot of Cari standing in front of some sign writing that’s so witty and artfully composed.

John
The Mojave one? Okay, I agree that shots like that take an eye. How there’s more to good photography than just picking up a camera and shooting something. But I still find I get to the end of every year and there’s maybe three images that I’m really proud of.

Cari

Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
I find this to be a common theme with the vast majority of creatives. They can be so analytical and are always questioning how they could do their work better.

John
It’s true that I’m very self-conscious about my photography and I’m very self-conscious about my writing. And I think that’s because I went through five years of architecture school, having my shit torn apart. Like, just relentlessly.

cyclespeak
That sounds pretty intense.

John
I think if half of these, quote unquote, Instagram photographers had to sit down and go through an actual critique in a university, after you’ve spent six hours in a dark room making a print, and then a professor just comes up with a fucking wax pencil and draws all over it, they would perhaps settle for an alternative career. And I hate the word trauma because sometimes I feel people conflate that with being uncomfortable. But that was some traumatic shit that happened, which is perhaps why in the back of my head I’ve always had this—don’t go in thinking you’re good—because your shit’s just gonna get ripped apart.

cyclespeak
And you have similar feelings regarding your writing?

John
I think people respond to the emotion in whatever I’ve written but it’s not like reading The New Yorker. There’s no prose. It’s just very matter of fact.

cyclespeak
I guess we write for different purposes. And I believe Ernest Hemingway once said that good writing is saying complicated things very simply. But I’m conscious we’ve come a long way from me asking you about frame building.

John
We sure have. And to answer your question, I would love to and I’ve put some serious thought into doing a frame builder course up in Portland. But, at the same time, I also don’t really feel the need.

cyclespeak
No?

John
I think this is—not a problem—but just one aspect of frame building. In the sense that not everyone who’s into beautiful handmade frames has to build one. Like, I love tattoos but I’m not gonna tattoo myself. And I think that respecting the artistry of what frame building is, in a lot of ways allows you to honour the craft.

Beautiful bikes

Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
So taking this one step further, when you’re looking at a really special bike build, what are your emotional triggers? Are we talking form, function, or a synthesis of the two?

John
If I was to be completely and brutally honest, right now it’s what makes a bike different from the sea of other things that look very similar. And in America, I think this is part of a bigger conversation. Builders like Rick Hunter—the fucking OG— and Todd from Black Cat are both doing amazing things. But generally speaking, there’s not a lot of innovation happening with U.S. frame builders. And I understand that’s gonna be controversial but off the top of my head, I can think of four or five bikes at last year’s MADE show in Portland that were stand-out different in the taxonomy of a gravel bike. A lot of people in the States are displaying tubes that are basically welded to Paragon parts with an Enve fork and a fancy paint job. And I get it. That’s what people want. That’s what keeps fabricators surviving in the States where there are very few subsidies for people who make things.

cyclespeak
Was it the same story when you visited Bespoked in Manchester and then Dresden?

John
I see the current state of frame building in the U.S. from a profit-based perspective. Europe is way more innovative. No one in the States is doing what Konstantin Drust is doing. Period.

cyclespeak
I saw your stunning images from the Dresden recap. Really wild designs.

John
Honouring it through photos—when I see something that is truly unique—is why I spend a good 30 minutes or so with a bike that interests me. And the reason I’m going to step away from shooting 50 or so bikes at MADE and really just hone in and shoot the bikes that I feel are innovative and truly representative of the builder. Which is easier said than done because there’s this expectation at U.S. shows that I shoot everything. Some of them thank me, some of them don’t, but at the European shows no one gets upset or writes an email bitching me out for not shooting their bike. No one gets angry that I’m somehow controlling the narrative of handmade bikes because I didn’t shoot this or that bike. In Europe people are just excited that I’m there. In the U.S., there’s this expectation that looms overhead.

cyclespeak
What puzzles me is that over here in England, it’s not uncommon to see price tags of nine, ten thousand pounds—sometimes even more—on a standard-sized carbon frameset, manufactured in Asia, with a mid-tier group set. Not that I have deep enough pockets to spend that kind of money on a bike. But if I did, the way my mind works would be to ask what that could buy me in a custom frame, built to my specifications, with a one-off paint design?

John
Ashley from Significant Other was offering titanium and steel full-suspension frames from $3,500 which is cheaper than any high-end carbon mountain bike on the market. And I guarantee you that bike is gonna ride way better.

cyclespeak
Not that we’re hating on carbon fibre—people can ride whatever they please—but surely there’s an allure to having something handmade?

John
I guess it’s the way consumerism works in the States and one of the biggest challenges we face with the website. You want to support these people making stuff in their garage. You want to support the innovators, and innovation is expensive. Bikes like the Apogee One—which is around $4,500 for a full-suspension frame—uses CNC and milling to create this bricolage bicycle inspired by a Suzuki motorcycle linkage. Which is why we gave it mountain bike of the year, because it’s the most fucking innovative thing I’ve seen someone in America do. And I think a lot of people look at an $8,000 handmade, full-suspension mountain bike and then they look at an $800 basket bike and they don’t understand the connection between the two. But fundamentally, they’re the same thing.

Architecture

Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
They are?

John
A human being took whatever technology was available and assembled something that made sense to them at that moment in time. Which feeds into this sense of identity politics that happens in cycling where your brand allegiance or style of riding becomes your identity.

cyclespeak
But I get that. Because even though we’re all just riding bikes, there’s this tendency to be tribal. Which explains why—from certain viewpoints—anyone wearing Pas Normal can get teased mercilessly. But it’s the same if you’re attending Ronnie Romance’s Nutmeg Nor’Easter. Everyone’s got a bar bag, metal bidons and there’s something dangling from their Brooks saddle. They’re wearing a uniform in much the same way as the Pas Normal crowd.

John
It’s like Freud’s narcissism of small differences. Where similar minded communities will rip each other apart over the slightest differences rather than embrace the things they have in common. And I wholly—one hundred fucking percent—blame social media for this. Back in the early noughties when I was riding fixed gear around New York City, we’d hang out with people on classic road bikes, vintage mountain bikes, guys into BMX. Joe from Brooklyn Machine Works would come out on his downhill bike and we’d ride through Central Park at night, jibbing lines and stuff because we didn’t have access to any trails. And when I lived in Austin, roadie guys riding bikes with an integrated carbon seat post would come out with me on my rigid Indy Fab—wearing shorts and a t-shirt—but no one really cared back then.

cyclespeak
And now everyone cares?

John
Which is so weird to me. Because I just like to ride bikes. All kinds of bikes.

cyclespeak
And why—along with The Radavist—you’re this touchstone for so many people also invested in riding their bicycles. Because I’ve personally witnessed how people greet and interact with you and I wanted to ask how this makes you feel?

John
For sure it’s a privilege. But one that I never really anticipated. Because this all started out of curiosity; back in New York where I saw all this stuff that wasn’t getting documented by mainstream bike media. Or if it was, it was a single image with a couple of paragraphs of text. A scene that I wanted to offer a platform because it was something I was truly passionate about and not something I ever did with the intention of it growing so big. I don’t even necessarily like having myself on the website but I enjoy making content and giving all these different communities a spotlight. So I guess with The Radavist now in its twentieth year, people do recognise me and want to say hi. Something that I take as a great honour.

cyclespeak
So looking back on the young man who’d recently qualified as an architect and was overseeing construction projects in New York City, riding his fixed gear bike, camera to hand; what do you imagine he would think if he could see you as you are now?

John
Hopefully that it’s a pretty good way to live a life. I have a house, I have a wonderful wife, I have a community of people who appreciate me. And I’ve got some fun bikes to ride and some cool cameras to shoot with. So everything on paper is pretty good.

All photography by John Watson (unless otherwise stated) / The Radavist

Feature image by Cari Carmean

Taylor Phinney / And everything in between

November 4, 2025November 4, 2025Posted in ConversationTagged gravel bikes, pas normal studios, Sponsor Correct, Taylor Phinney, thereaboutsLeave a comment

Taylor Phinney is waiting outside his studio that’s nestled in the semi-industrial suburbs of Girona. Immediately welcoming in a calm, quietly contained manner, he’s wearing his latest Sponsor Correct tee: the Kasia Cappuccino shirt that celebrates his wife’s successes at the Tour de France Femmes avec Zwift.

Entering the space he shares with two other artists, on one side serried ranks of canvases are mounted in neat, uniform rows. On the other side—Taylor’s side—the concrete floor is covered by a random assortment of paint and mark-making paraphernalia.

Dragging a couple of chairs over to the wide, sunlit doorway, Taylor apologises for not having any beverages to offer before we sit down and begin to chat. A meandering succession of subjects with Taylor carefully considering each and every response but with a playfulness and candour that draws you in and fixes the attention. A back and forth series of conversational tangents taking in bikes, art, and everything in between.

cyclespeak
I saw the post from last week of you interviewing five-time Tour de France winner Miguel Induráin. You must be pretty fluent in Spanish?

Taylor
Good enough I guess. I miss some of the grammar but I can get across most of what I want to say.

cyclespeak
I’m sure they appreciated you making the effort.

Taylor
I didn’t really have a choice…

cyclespeak
Because he doesn’t speak English?

Taylor
There is that. But what’s funny is they told me they were doing a podcast and I just assumed that they were talking to me. And then, at the last moment, they mentioned it was me talking to Miguel. Just having a chat [laughs].

cyclespeak
From one Tour de France winner to another, you were there when your wife Kasia Niewiadoma won the 2024 Tour de France Femmes avec Zwift with only a handful of seconds to spare.

Taylor
These things are often described as an emotional roller coaster and I was definitely doing some pacing, back and forth, on the mountain. So it was a super euphoric moment for all of us but what I felt most was relief.

cyclespeak
Because Kasia had previously placed so well but never quite got that top step of the podium?

Taylor
She’s always animating a race. And for someone who only seldomly did that, I know how rare it is. And she deserves it because she works super hard. In the same way that all those athletes work super hard. So with her Tour de France win, it was nice to see the chips all fall in her favour.

cyclespeak
As a former World Tour racer yourself, there’s the recognised route of retired professionals going into team management as a directeur sportif. So hypothetically speaking, what kind of DS do you imagine you’d make?

Taylor
I think I’d make a pretty good one. And I say that because I’m a sensitive and empathetic person, which didn’t particularly help me as an athlete but was a big help with the team dynamic. So I find it relatively easy to understand someone else’s perspective and where they’re coming from. And I recognise that I have this ability to bring a group together in an American Football coach sort of way. But, man, sitting in a car, six hours a day, for three weeks?

cyclespeak
Those must be some hard miles.

Taylor
It’s not a particularly healthy lifestyle and I really like to be active and creative and on my own programme. So I’d worry that I’d get back into that bike racer mindset of not really wanting to be there. And I enjoy not having to travel so much and, if I do, it’s pretty much on my own terms.

cyclespeak
So fast forward to the life and times of Taylor Phinney post racing. Can I start by asking whether there’s a routine to each day? A cup of coffee, some breakfast oats, a little workout and then off to the studio. Or would that feel too constraining?

Taylor
Actually, it would be pretty nice if I had more of a routine. But maybe I give in too much to my ADD?

cyclespeak
When you say give in, is that willingly?

Taylor
Probably half and half [smiles]. And a lot of the time I forget what I’m supposed to do. So I have to write it all down.

cyclespeak
So you’re a Post-it person?

Taylor
I have this app on my phone called MinimaList that makes things real easy and I am getting better with time management. But there’s something about the creative process; in that you’re actively trying to get lost. So I guess the trick is to differentiate that from everyday tasks without disappearing down a rabbit hole.

cyclespeak
But those creative tangents can be interesting?

Taylor
They are and I’m fortunate to have the flexibility to follow them. So I guess the only thing that really reminds me of time is my wife.

cyclespeak
And do you welcome that tap on the shoulder?

Taylor
Most of the time, yes [smiles].

cyclespeak
So how do you start your day?

Taylor
We wake up and I make coffee. I used to do meditation in the morning but I found it allowed me to fall into my ADD. As opposed to waking up and just doing something productive.

cyclespeak
Do you consciously decide when to focus on painting, designing for Sponsor Correct, clearing your local trails? Or do you wait until inspiration comes calling?

Taylor
With the trail building, it’s pretty weather dependent. It really has to rain quite a lot for the ground to become malleable. And that’s always a really exciting time for me as it’s probably my happiest place: outside, by myself, sculpting the earth. It’s creative and with this whole other reward process.

cyclespeak
The before and after?

Taylor
That’s part of it. But not only do I get to enjoy it in the days, weeks, months afterwards; you see the whole community returning too. Because the way the trails work is they get overgrown and dirty so people ride somewhere else. But after you work on a section and open it up, the next time you go there you see all these tracks on the ground. And that’s without me saying anything to anybody. This whole word-of-mouth thing that spreads organically.

cyclespeak
From your actions, there are ripples of reaction?

Taylor
Something I strive to be is a people mover: whether that’s through music, organising rides, or trail building. So even if I don’t say anything, I like to see if I can influence the movement of all these different people. But that doesn’t really answer your question about how I prioritise things.

cyclespeak
Which is?

Taylor
The trail building is seasonal. Painting is something I keep more for myself. I do sell some pieces but I’m not actively networking and seeking out galleries in an effort to get my work out there. There’s this whole brand identity side of that which I don’t like so much. And I find that if I start selling more paintings and doing commissions, then I stop thinking about what I want to paint and start thinking about what other people want to see. So, for me, painting is like this creative force that grounds everything else and I do design projects when I’m inspired. Which can often be when I’m travelling and have my computer with me—it’s just so easy to dive in.

cyclespeak
Design work that includes projects like Sponsor Correct?

Taylor
The Sponsor Correct stuff honestly started as a joke. Something I’d wanted to turn into a brand from back when I was racing because we heard it nonstop. Like, make sure you’re sponsor correct because you’re doing this photoshoot or interview. And that always pissed me off because it didn’t leave any room for being original.

cyclespeak
I’ve heard you reference these thoughts before. Kind of a cookie-cutter approach?

Taylor
Which makes sense because all of these brands are paying to have their riders represent them. And I just felt that the sponsor correct thing was so omnipresent within the culture, that anyone involved in bike racing and professional sport would recognise the phrase. A way of conforming and being rebellious at the same time.

cyclespeak
And your music?

Taylor
That’s a vibe. If I’m here in the studio and stuck on something, then I’ll just start playing some music. But that scene is also tied to identity and brand which I’m not searching out too much. And late nights in clubs? It can feel like I’m in some layer of hell at four in the morning. I don’t really party like that—I’m completely sober—and I want to wake up refreshed and ready to ride my bike outside.

cyclespeak
It sounds like you’ve got a lot going on?

Taylor
Sometimes it can feel that way but really, it’s about creating some kind of momentum.

cyclespeak
Without giving too much of yourself away?

Taylor
I’m okay with giving up my energy. It’s more about building this foundation that I can always recognise and get back to.

cyclespeak
So focusing for a moment on your painting, have you ever had any formal training or are you entirely self taught?

Taylor
Self-taught makes it sound like I was reading books [smiles]. But what it actually looked like was revisiting drawings that I’d made as a kid and being reintroduced to painters like early Basquiat.

cyclespeak
I’ve seen Picasso exhibitions that show work from when he was a student and he’s copying the style of the grandmasters. Which is a natural process as you’re developing your own style?

Taylor
It’s totally natural. Like another of my favourite artists, the painter Wes Lang. He’s from LA and mixes this Native American imagery with a Basquiat type of composition and colour. And I was listening to a podcast where he was saying that he decided on these stylistic references because it was the conversation he wanted to have with that particular artist. And that made me feel more comfortable about my own visual journey. Because, when I first started painting, there were two people I was thinking about and if they would like my work or not. And they were the ghost of Basquiat and this friend of mine that first encouraged me to pick up a brush. So I do believe that it’s not only allowed but also a positive part of the process.

cyclespeak
This dialogue that goes back and forth?

Taylor
Even though it’s in your own head, it still feels like you’re having a conversation.

cyclespeak
In terms of your own visual inspiration, I don’t mean this in a negative way but is that a passive process or do you consciously seek to be inspired?

Taylor
I probably look more actively now. But in the past it tended to follow a familiar pattern of visual diary pages, a lot of stream of consciousness, and improvising colour combinations. Thinking that maybe I shouldn’t do this but doing it anyway because it felt rebellious. Like I would use oil paint sticks and then paint acrylic over the top when the marks were still wet.

cyclespeak
So you were breaking rules?

Taylor
Rules that I never quite understood or mastered [laughs]. And a lot of my stuff kind of happened by accident.

cyclespeak
So does each canvas follow a systematic pattern?

Taylor
I definitely start by drawing or writing on a canvas; I like to have stories underneath the paint that you might not be able to see…

cyclespeak
But you know they’re there?

Taylor
I guess that a blank canvas with one image on top doesn’t tell enough of a story for me. Which is why I like to use spray paint and graffiti markers to add all this texture. And then, when it all gets covered up, my friend David makes fun of me and says another layer [laughs].

cyclespeak
But the layers form the foundation of your work?

Taylor
And oftentimes I’ll strip them back with water or paint thinner—or even just scrubbing at the surface—which allows all this other stuff to come through from before. And if that surprises me, I’ll know that I did the right thing.

cyclespeak
How difficult is it to say enough and acknowledge a painting is finished? Or is there a temptation to keep going back?

Taylor
It’s never easy to know where that line is. Because I look at a lot of in-process pictures of a particular work and I’m like, dude, that would’ve been real sweet if you’d stopped right there. But it’s buried underneath layers of something else. So maybe I need to have 18 paintings up on the wall at any one time and then just bounce back and forth? But I don’t have enough space because they’re usually all quite big. Which is why the bike is a useful tool whenever I have a problem or I’m not sure what the next step will be.

cyclespeak
Is that because the physicality of each pedal stroke frees up the thought process?

Taylor
I’m not quite sure how to explain it but the number of ideas I had mid-race as a professional cyclist that I could never quite recall at the finish…

cyclespeak
Are they always your canvases, even if they’re sold?

Taylor
That’s what I mean about this foundation of feeling comfortable with what I’m creating and not needing to think about someone else’s opinion. Because I’m never going to paint a portrait of your dog as a commission. It’s much better if I do my own thing before seeing whether it adapts in some way.

cyclespeak
You mentioned how playing music can act as a welcome distraction from the creative process. And I was curious regarding the subtleties of reading the room when you’re playing a DJ set.

Taylor
Whether people are moving or not is an obvious sign and you can definitely feel if there’s a vibe. Which is a nice kind of puzzle when you go in this or that direction with your song choices.

cyclespeak
And it’s in real time; unlike painting a canvas where you can put down the brush and step back for a moment?

Taylor
It’s not that I feel rushed but there’s definitely a sense of flow. Which is what I really like about it; this layering of sounds—one after another—which is kind of like my paintings.

cyclespeak
Are you storytelling when you DJ?

Taylor
I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently. And it’s not storytelling as…

cyclespeak
A narrative?

Taylor
It’s more of an abstract way in the sense that you grab peoples’ attention—almost like foreplay—and that’s where you create tension. And then when people are locked in, you don’t immediately give them exactly what they want; this energy is building inside of them and you’re the one that helps them release it.

cyclespeak
That sounds like quite a powerful sensation?

Taylor
I guess that’s why a lot of DJs are perhaps a little egotistical?

cyclespeak
For someone growing up spending their Saturday mornings in record stores, can I ask whether vinyl is still important or is everything now digital?

Taylor
It’s relatively niche but that’s the way it all got started and you now get music labels that are releasing vinyl-only DJ records to be played in a club. There’s only one or two tracks on each side with a minute of kick drum which makes them easier to mix. And it’s a lot nicer to look through a crate of records as opposed to scrolling through a digital playlist.

cyclespeak
The physicality of the process?

Taylor
There’s no need for screens. Just the needle, the wax and the mixer.

cyclespeak
Returning once more to Sponsor Correct, I’m sure they were flattered—at least I hope they were—but did Pas Normal respond in any way when you dropped your Pan Normal shirt?

Taylor
The only feedback I’ve received has been positive. And I’ve been told that a few people at their head office have the shirt.

cyclespeak
They do say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Taylor
What I find funny is there are people who love PAS and only wear PAS. And there are people who hate PAS and everything associated with the brand. And the reason that Pan Normal works is that both groups, from either extreme, want to buy the shirt.

cyclespeak
So in that Venn diagram, where the two circles intersect, sits Taylor Phinney and Sponsor Correct?

Taylor
Yes [laughs]. And to be honest, you could argue that both of those groups are a little ridiculous.

cyclespeak
Does that viewpoint reflect your take on Pas Normal or because you don’t like extremes?

Taylor
I think there’s something cliquey about most worlds. And if you take cycling brands as an example, much of the high end apparel is made in the same factory. So if you’re an X guy and you’re hating on the Y product, oftentimes you’re wearing the exact same piece of kit. It’s just branded differently and that’s what you’re buying into. Which I find really fascinating.

cyclespeak
The emotional connection with brands that an individual favours?

Taylor
I had this friend who only wore MAAP and, for whatever reason, hated PAS. But he bought every single one of my Pan Normal shirts and then he posted this photoshoot on his Instagram feed—shot in a very PAS style—of him fully decked out in Pas Normal. So that got me thinking that I’m doing a pretty good job in marketing these guys. And that maybe, if you hate on something so much, you kinda want to be part of it but you’ve already declared you don’t like it. So I do question whether the stuff that I make bridges this gap and creates some magical space in between.

cyclespeak
I get the impression that you’re having fun with Sponsor Correct?

Taylor
Having fun and learning at the same time. Because in a similar way that we mentioned having a dialogue with the work of artists we admire, studying how brands communicate their own identity and message through their designs—placement, size, fonts—has really taught me a lot.

cyclespeak
Skills that you used to create your Kasia Cappuccino shirt?

Taylor
David was an industrial designer and he got me started with Illustrator. So yeah, I can now create my own designs but I probably don’t know 80% of what the program can do. Which is why I have my own work arounds to figure things out.

cyclespeak
I listened to a podcast recently where you started listing the bikes you own and then kept remembering another one and another…

Taylor
Yes [smiles]. I’m not particularly good at selling bikes but that being said, I really don’t need any more.

cyclespeak
So it’s now a case of one in, one out?

Taylor
There are some bikes that I’ll never part with, like the Raleigh over there. A 64 cm frame that I picked up in Belgium and built up with 10-spd Dura Ace and longer brake calipers to allow for some bigger tyres.

cyclespeak
So are you a bike tinkerer? In the same way you see pictures of Lachlan Morton’s garage and he’s working on all these weird and wonderful bike builds.

Taylor
That’s definitely me but I find it easier to tinker with older stuff. With the newer stuff, I can’t resist testing the boundaries of what a bike can do…

cyclespeak
Is that test or push?

Taylor
It’s probably both. And goes back to the cycling cliques—do you ride in PAS or MAAP—and the viewpoint that if you’re mountain biking you wear the same type of kit, ride similar bikes and talk about the same stuff. But if you ride gravel or road, then that’s another aesthetic you all share.

cyclespeak
And you?

Taylor
I grew up riding gravel on my road bike before gravel was even a thing. So I’ve always wanted to mash up as many things as possible; fusing different riding styles and confusing those looking on.

cyclespeak
Which is why—and I do mean this very respectfully—you rode Badlands on a spectacularly inappropriate bike?

Taylor
Yes. But I was comfortable.

cyclespeak
I imagine so. Up to the point you nearly ripped your toe off riding in sandals and had to cauterise the wound with your pocket knife.

Taylor
That was because I threw away my Vans [laughs]. I definitely took way too much stuff on that trip. And if I was going back, I’d probably ride what I call my gravel plus bike which is a drop bar mountain bike. And the reason for that is my ten thousand hours are in a drop bar position. Something I wouldn’t have admitted five years ago.

cyclespeak
But you’re now able to embrace?

Taylor
I like to play with things and I also like to play with peoples’ expectations and, in doing so, break some norms. Because everyone is so traditionally rooted in what they think they’re supposed to do within whatever clique speaks to them. So when you show up to a gravel ride and you’re riding on flat pedals wearing Vans, everyone is woah, man.

cyclespeak
And cycling is full to the brim of cliques and unspoken rules.

Taylor
But when you get to the coffee shop and people are walking around like ducks and I’m just like a normal person, which one of us is weird [laughs]?

cyclespeak
I remember when Gus Morton brought out his Outskirts films, it was like a lightbulb moment. That whole tee over bibs vibe.

Taylor
Those guys had a huge influence on me for sure.

cyclespeak
Which was also the case for the EF Gone Racing films that you, yourself, featured in.

Taylor
I’ve heard that from a few people recently. How watching those films totally changed how they rode a bike.

cyclespeak
Generally speaking—with maybe the exception of Unbound where you had countless flats—you all looked like you were having fun. And it wasn’t solely super serious with a focus on results alone.

Taylor
That’s about the size of it [smiles].

cyclespeak
You’ve talked about how the bike offers a means of escape. And you’ve also mentioned how you often get inspired when you’re out riding. So do you ever switch off?

Taylor laughs and thinks for a moment

Taylor
I would love to hear my wife answer that question.

cyclespeak
What do you think she would say?

Taylor
Maybe that I’m in a state of sleep-mode at all times? But no, I’m a creature of inspiration and curiosity. So whenever that strikes, I’m on. Mixed in with periods of feeling a little lost and overextended. Which is usually fixed by spending a couple of days on the couch.

cyclespeak
In this age of social media and from the outside looking in, it might appear that life and living is—not easy—but pretty good.

Taylor
I definitely live a very privileged lifestyle. In the sense that I get to come here and do what I want to do. And it’s fairly easy for me to connect with brands and make things happen. But saying that, I don’t think anybody’s life is like riding a rainbow.

cyclespeak
That’s something that Sami Sauri often mentions. That people think it’s all flowers and unicorns when it’s actually a lot of hard work.

Taylor
I can hear her saying that [laughs].

cyclespeak
I suppose for many people, a vast majority of their life decisions are made for them: a job that might not particularly inspire, mortgage payments to meet, a family to care for and nurture. Whereas on the flip side, always having to determine the next project or collaboration can also bring its own set of challenges?

Taylor
Personally, I prefer that to having a 9-5 to bang up against. But it’s been a learning process that I’m no means close to the end of. How to string a bunch of things together to pay rent and buy my wife presents.

cyclespeak
Buying your wife presents is nice though.

Taylor
It is. Being with Kasia makes me very happy and I get to come to the studio, do my thing here, and the trails are amazing whichever direction you go. And for me, that’s enough.

Taylor Phinney / Sponsor Correct

All photography by Chris Hargreaves

Sami Sauri / Silk Road Mountain Race

October 13, 2025Posted in ConversationTagged gravel bikes, gravel racing, Rose bikes, sami sauri, silk road mountain raceLeave a comment

Home again after placing 21st overall and second woman to finish on this year’s Silk Road Mountain Race, adventure cyclist and photographer Sami Sauri reflects on the before, the during and the after. Conversationally candid and quick to laugh, Sami unpicks what it takes to complete such an epic challenge, how focusing on fun might just be her secret superpower, and why crossing the finish line helped foster a true sense of self belief.

cyclespeak
You’ve been back home from Kyrgyzstan for a couple of weeks now. How are you feeling?

Sami
It’s funny that the recovery was better than ever. There was so much hike-a-bike that my body never seemed to get that stressed in either discipline. I rode my bike, I pushed my bike, I carried my bike, I almost went swimming with my bike on some of the river crossings [laughs].

cyclespeak
The Silk Road Mountain Race is such a daunting event and on many peoples’ bucket list. What made you commit to racing it this year?

Sami
Rather than race, I was simply aiming to complete it. And even though I was mentored by James Hayden who talked me through equipment choices and training regimes, I was focusing pretty much on just finishing. Because racing is a whole other level and it wasn’t until day three or four that it even seemed a possibility.

cyclespeak
So what shifted in your outlook?

Sami
I was watching the dots when I could get a signal and that’s when I started to think that maybe I could place fairly well. But saying that, it was still an adventure and I was carrying a couple of digital cameras and one, quite heavy, analogue to document the experience.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
You’re a very experienced adventure cyclist but did you still have to double down on your preparation for Silk?

Sami
Absolutely. And I was pretty scared about a lot of things because my background is fixed gear and fast gravel racing. So yes, I needed a few tips and tricks to get me through the race; to have the knowledge to make the right decisions at the right time.

cyclespeak
Because the event can be quite brutal?

Sami
I viewed this as more of a survival race and I wanted to control as much as possible in an environment where things can get very quickly out of control.

cyclespeak
You were riding your Rose hardtail with a Tailfin luggage system. In hindsight a good choice?

Sami
I wouldn’t change anything from that setup. The bike was amazing and Tailfin made me a custom camera bag that attached to my aero bars.

cyclespeak
And riding a hardtail rather than opting for a full suspension bike?

Sami
By nature, I enjoy technical terrain and I’m comfortable descending. And a hardtail is lighter when you’re climbing and gives you so much more space in the triangle for luggage options.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Going from your Instagram posts, it was an achievement in itself to even arrive in Kyrgyzstan? Delayed flights, a forgotten wallet; can you talk me through this rollercoaster ride?

Sami
It wasn’t a delayed flight, it was the delayed brain of Sami [laughs].

cyclespeak
It was?

Sami
I’d booked my flights to arrive early in Kyrgyzstan so I could join two friends on a bike packing trip on the Celestial Divide route. But I guess I had a lot going on pre-travelling—I was embedded with SRAM during the Tour de France Femmes—so when I got home it was quite a rush to get everything packed up. So much faffing around sorting out bags and lights and everything else I would need. But finally everything was ready, I booked my bus ticket to the airport, my neighbour dropped me off at the bus stop, I arrived at the airport, but then couldn’t find my flight on the departures board. So I asked at the information desk only to be told that the flight was the next day and I’d arrived a day early.

cyclespeak
So it was back home?

Sami
That’s right. Up the valley to Chamonix—a pretty fruitless five hour round trip—but at least it allowed me to attach the new saddle that Selle San Marco had sent me which arrived later that day. So, every cloud as they say.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
And then back to the airport the next day.

Sami
I’d contacted my friends in Kyrgyzstan to tell them to start their trip without me and I would catch them up. But then—because I’d been rushing around so much—I realised that I’d left my wallet behind. Luckily I always travel with a card in my passport but it’s a credit card which doesn’t always work if you want to withdraw local currency.

cyclespeak
I’m guessing Kyrgyzstan is one of those countries?

Sami
Correct. So after landing, I had no money and no idea where my friends were. But I did have the route and set out before bumping into two other friends—I mean, what are the odds—so we made a new plan and off we went.

cyclespeak
When you did finally roll up at the Silk start line—ahead of you 1,900 km of rugged terrain and 30,000 m of elevation—what was going through your head?

Sami
Two things, I guess. The first being there’s no way back in the sense that your choices are made and you need to keep moving. It’s not like you can just pop back and grab a jacket if you feel a chill. You’ve got what you’ve got and those decisions are made way before the race gets underway.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
And the second?

Sami
Throughout all of this mentoring with James, one of the things he talked about was having a mantra. Something that would help carry me to the finish.

cyclespeak
And what did you decide on?

Sami
My mantra was if you go further, you will see more. Because riding with a camera, that’s what motivates me to do these adventures.

cyclespeak
What sleep strategy had you decided on? Because there’s a school of thought that if you rest a little longer, you race faster; as opposed to little sleep but a slower pace?

Sami
I’m not super experienced at racing ultras so I’m still working this one out. When I raced Across Andes—which is much shorter than Silk—I found that two hours rest a night worked well. But going without sleep for 24 hours at Bright Midnight paid off so badly.

cyclespeak
And Silk?

Sami
It’s so long that you simply have to sleep; you have to be rested enough to make the right choices at the right moment. So there wasn’t a 24 hour period that I didn’t clock some sleep. But I’m not going to lie, I completely freestyled it [laughs].

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Which looked like?

Sami
Between three and four hours rest a day. But that was sometimes tricky to manage with it being so cold at night that it was difficult to keep warm if you weren’t moving.

cyclespeak
So if you had to choose between a tent, bivvy, guest house or giant water pipe?

Sami
The giant water pipe would have been a pretty good choice—I was very comfortable—but it just funnelled the wind and made my emergency blanket flap around too much. And the guest houses are wonderful for quality food and sleep but they take too much time because everyone is so welcoming and it feels rude to just rush off without having a conversation. And because you’re translating everything back and forth on your phone it can take forever.

cyclespeak
So maybe the tent?

Sami
That was good but, again, it takes a little time to get set up and some nights I just couldn’t be bothered and went straight for the bivvy. Which is quick but has issues with condensation—especially if you double it with the foil blanket—so you can end up feeling wet on the inside. So, to answer your question, maybe a combination is what works best?

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
How tricky was it to fuel your race? Did you carry much food or were you relying on roadside provisions?

Sami
You can’t rely on anything [laughs].

cyclespeak
You can’t?

Sami
It might say resupply in the road book but that doesn’t necessarily mean a shop. And if there is a shop, it doesn’t mean there’s a vast choice of things to eat. It just means that you’re going to get something. But that still leaves you with stretches of 400 km without any food options. And due to the difficulty of the terrain, that’s equivalent to two days of riding. Which is why I call it a survival race and not a bike race because there were times when I was running out of food and having to ration my M&Ms to one every half an hour. And then when you do finally reach a town with a supermarket, the bag of food you buy is bigger than your body. Or at least it was in my case [laughs].

cyclespeak
I’ve seen pictures from Silk of competitors enjoying an ice cream.

Sami
Not for me.

cyclespeak
Not even the one?

Sami
There are two reasons why not. First, we were pretty high up—our average elevation was higher this year—so it wasn’t as hot as previous editions. And second, I was warned against eating ice cream because the electricity supply is a little inconsistent which means the freezers are constantly thawing and refreezing. But maybe I was overthinking the whole thing [smiles].

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
You had a series of tricky river crossings to contend with including wading through waist deep water and some pretty sketchy bridges. I’m guessing quite challenging obstacles?

Sami
One of the main bridges in that particular area collapsed only a day or two before the race started so I walked rather than rode over all of them.

cyclespeak
And the river crossings?

Sami
I had a couple of situations where I thought I would get swept away. So I learnt to wait until other riders were there so I wasn’t crossing alone. And in some cases, people had to camp out overnight to wait and cross in the morning when they could see what they were doing.

cyclespeak
I’m assuming the water is super cold?

Sami
Very, very cold [laughs].

cyclespeak
So if there’s no bridge, are you carrying your bike or pushing it through the water?

Sami
Most of the time you carry it across your shoulders. And sometimes you cross with someone else and you can help each other. But whatever the situation, it was always pretty sketchy.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Was the extreme elevation difficult to manage?

Sami
I do think a lot of people had problems with that. And I guess because I live in Chamonix, it maybe didn’t affect me quite as much. But I still had a bleeding nose and cough whenever we were above 3500 m which made sleeping sometimes difficult. So if you live and train at sea level, you can see why it can make things difficult and the altitude needs to be taken seriously. It’s no joke.

cyclespeak
You were the second woman to finish and placed 21st overall. And this was your debut Silk Road Mountain Race. Was it a case of instant euphoria arriving at the finish in Karakol or did it take a while to sink in?

Sami
It’s still sinking in [laughs]. Especially because it’s probably the best result in my racing career. And who would have thought I’d be even close to finishing second in Silk? Especially as I was going to Kyrgyzstan for the adventure and to take photographs. Which is what I did.

cyclespeak
Was that your superpower and part of the reason you placed so highly? The fact that you didn’t enter Silk with the view of chasing a result?

Sami
It’s honestly hard to say. I faff around so much in these races and stop for everything. I photograph flowers and the people I meet. I eat pizza on top of a hill and take in the view. But maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s this mindset that makes a difference?

cyclespeak
One incident that you did post about was an upsetting nighttime encounter with a boy and his dogs. But generally speaking, your interactions with the local population were very positive?

Sami
Yes, absolutely. The people in Kyrgyzstan are amazing and that was just a random encounter in an area near to the border. And I wasn’t the only person to run into a little difficulty there. But for the vast majority of the race, I never even thought about my own personal safety.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
So how vulnerable do you feel on events such as these?

Sami
Strangely it was more when I was in or around a city. Somewhere that’s more touristy. When I was out on my own in the wilderness—where you might imagine you’d feel vulnerable—that’s where I felt the safest.

cyclespeak
In a certain way, you were joined on the race by all your dot watchers and by their messages of support. During difficult moments, are you aware of this and does it make a difference?

Sami
My friend Corina took over my Instagram account during the race so—day to day—I really wasn’t that aware of what people were saying. But when I did have a connection and could see all the messages, it was really a quite amazing feeling.

cyclespeak
You mentioned your personal mantra if you go further, you will see more. So is it possible to sum up what you did see?

Sami
You know, it’s funny. I took photos every day and when I look at them now—only a few weeks later—I can’t remember this or that place. Almost like it was so intense, with so many things happening, that I can only recall the hardest bits and some of the best moments. But the bits in between? It almost feels like my mind has deleted them.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
So has this experience changed you?

Sami
I guess the honest answer is that I never thought I could finish something this big. So maybe now I have the reassurance that, yes, I can. And moving forward, the longer the event the better? And all of this came after a very difficult start to the year so it helps to have a sense of belief in yourself. Because before, maybe that was something I lacked?

cyclespeak
So maybe it’s answered some questions? And possibly posed some new ones?

Sami
I guess so [smiles].

cyclespeak
I think what sets you apart—and I truly believe this—is that you enter these extreme events with the goal of having fun. You’re racing Silk and carrying three cameras which just doesn’t line up with the vast majority of the other competitors. And it’s that, which makes your approach so unique and so refreshing.

Sami
Which is how I arrived at my Adventure More project which combines my love for photography and riding my bike. Something I want to do more of.

cyclespeak
When it came time to leave Kyrgyzstan, were you ready or was there an element of sadness at saying goodbye?

Sami
I think because I’d arrived early to go bike packing and had seen maybe more of the country than some of the other competitors, I was ready to go home and spend some time with my boyfriend and see my friends in real life and not just over a video call on my phone. And I was looking forward to having my plate of pasta with Parmigiana that I always have when I return home.

cyclespeak
Every time?

Sami
Yes, every time [laughs].

Sami Sauri / samisauri.com

Feature image by kind permission of Stephen Shelesky / All other photography credited individually

Silk Road Mountain Race

Sean Eric Martin / CNCPT Team

August 4, 2025Posted in ConversationTagged Alonso Tal, Alvin Escajeda, Bobby Endo, Cervelo, CNCPT Team, Sean Eric MartinLeave a comment

A DM pops up on my phone to say Sean Eric Martin is having difficulty connecting to our call. Los Angeles based, moustachioed and a relaxed raconteur, Sean rides with the CNCPT team that recently celebrated a birthday of sorts after a decade spent getting after it.

With his computer restarted—a chime announces he’s good to go—and with a nod to the CNCPT dynamic, we get straight down to discussing the highs and lows of bike racing, and all that lies in between. A candid conversation that takes in everything from record collections to West Coast riding, the value placed on friendship, and how the bad times only last so long.

cyclespeak
Growing up pre-internet, I’m still amazed that I can sit here and talk to someone on the other side of the world.

Sean
I’m the same. I was born in 1979 and I remember my parents having a phone with a rotary dial in their bedroom. So if we wanted privacy on a call, we had this extra-long cable that would reach down the stairs.

cyclespeak
Whereas now, it’s a very different world. In some ways maybe more challenging but also quite amazing.

Sean
That’s so true. Because if you think about it [Sean holds up his smart phone] we now have the breadth of human knowledge in our hands. But people still won’t use a blinker when they’re making a turn.

cyclespeak
I guess a natural state of equilibrium is difficult to achieve. We lose, we gain, but things rarely stand still. And we need a certain degree of resilience to navigate this.

Sean
Which, if you think about it, can be applied to how we ride bikes. Because you have to keep moving to stay upright. And in the depths of pain and suffering, you learn that the bad times don’t last. The good times will return through forward motion.

Click image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Those are some seriously deep thoughts [laughs]. Have bikes always represented these feelings?

Sean
Not exactly. I grew up in Anchorage, Alaska, and I was a skateboarder. So California, from afar, felt the very epicentre of skate culture. And it’s funny that where I now live in LA, just off Virgil, there’s a very famous schoolyard—Lockwood Elementary—right around the corner and I ride my bike past there pretty much every day. And I’m like, man, the 13 or 14 year old me would’ve been so fucking hyped to live in such close proximity to where those pivotal skate videos in the 90s were filmed.

cyclespeak
I guess, growing up, it all felt very far away?

Sean
Yes and no. LA just felt like another world that I wanted to be in. And jumping forward a ways, my sister Kelly Martin was instrumental in me getting into bikes. She went to grad school at Irvine, California, and that’s where she found bike culture through a guy she was dating. And then a few years later, when she was travelling up to Portland for the 2003 Team Puma bike messenger games, she suggested I come down from Seattle where I was living at the time. I’d been using a BMX bike to get around the neighbourhood but when I saw all those LA messengers riding fixed track bikes, it just blew my mind. All the craziest shit you can imagine from skid comps to alleycats. And if my sister was into all that, then it had to be really fucking cool. So I went back to Seattle and told all my skateboarding friends about fixed gear messenger culture and they were all like, what?

cyclespeak
So not overly impressed?

Sean
One of my friends—Casey Holloway—he drank the Kool-Aid with me and we built up a couple of fixed gear bikes off eBay. And then it wasn’t long before I decided to join my sister in Los Angeles and that was the start of a whole other chapter in my bike journey.

cyclespeak
Before we dig down into CNCPT, there are a couple of reference points that I’d like to explore. Specifically, your IG bio leading out with Rhinestone cowboy and your email signing off with Marketing wizard.

Sean
The Rhinestone cowboy is a homage to a past life of mine, before bikes started calling. I was a DJ in Seattle playing hip-hop, had my own nights at a bar, and I’d play after-parties for raves. There was a particular DJ who inspired me called Z-Trip who had this album with DJ Pete called Uneasy Listening which included a mix of Glenn Campbell’s Rhinestone Cowboy overlaid with a techno beat. Good times that I reference in my Instagram bio as a reminder of where I’ve come from.

Click image to open gallery

cyclespeak
We’re talking vinyl?

Sean
We sure are. I had a good five thousand or so records at one point.

cyclespeak
Have you still got them?

Sean
Unfortunately not. I don’t have many regrets in life but that’s certainly one. I moved up to Oakland for a while and in order to do that I sold my records and decks. And I know I could just get a DJ app to recreate the sound but there’s something about digging into a crate to select a record, slipping the vinyl out of its sleeve, and that first pop as the needle lands in the groove.

cyclespeak
And the marketing wizard?

Sean
When I first moved to LA, myself and Joseph Labato started throwing street races: alleycats and A-to-Bs. Everything was completely underground and we were good at it. And all of this coincided with the second wave of track bike culture so we had brand support, a lot of free shit to give away as prizes, and people came.

cyclespeak
That sounds like a crazy scene.

Sean
Both of us were from a hip-hop background so giving yourself props is important and we decided that we needed to document what was going down. So we started a blog called Takeover LA (TOLA!) to hype ourselves up and that got me thinking about marketing as a possible profession. And then, when I made the move to Oakland, I took what I’d learned and began working with agencies.

cyclespeak
So how were you first introduced to CNCPT?

Sean
Back when I was throwing those races in LA, there was a young man who would show up on a Masi track bike and wearing a Rock Racing jersey. Which was how I got to be fast friends with co-founder of CNCPT, Alonso Tal. Together with Bobby Endo—the other CNCPT cofounder—they’d all seen how performance cycling wasn’t always that welcoming for people of colour. Because, if you think about it, how do people who start racing on the streets fit into this elite world? So Alonso and Bobby decided to create a space where people like them—from their background—would feel represented.

cyclespeak
Does this struggle continue?

Sean
It’s an unfortunate fact that in road racing culture you’re not always paid attention to because of the colour of your skin, the fact you have tattoos, or that you once raced alleycats. And we still get that to this day. Which is another important thing about CNCPT; this idea that you need to be pigeonholed into one particular racing discipline—I’m only this or only that—whereas we love mixing things up. And throughout our journey as a team, that might be racing an alleycat, lining up at Red Hook, elite road and track racing, or taking on the Transcontinental. So there’s always been this questioning attitude to CNCPT: where will the bicycle take us next?

Click image to open gallery

cyclespeak
And the name CNCPT? How did that originate?

Sean
What first drew the current version of CNCPT together—I joined the team in 2020—was a shared passion for track bikes, riding and racing. Bobby and Zo took it further and created CNCPT. But what also defines CNCPT is our 15 years of friendship. And that cuts across to our relationships, the birth of children, our own personal struggles. So I guess it’s something that can’t easily be defined. It’s whatever we want it to be and that changes over time.

cyclespeak
I’m under the impression that CNCPT is grounded on the West Coast or is it an attitude that could exist anywhere?

Sean
That’s not something I’ve ever really considered. Because the secret sauce is all those years of friendship, all those years of inside jokes. We’re all very different individuals and sometimes we drive each other crazy but, at the end of the day, we all love each other. So could that exist if we were all scattered across the globe? Yes, certainly. We’d still come together and do things.

cyclespeak
Speaking of doing things together, I saw your posts from the LA Invitational. But doesn’t riding in LA suck?

Sean
That’s what we tell everyone [laughs]. Don’t come here to ride, it’s terrible.

cyclespeak
But secretly…

Sean
It’s amazing. There’s nowhere quite like it for the sheer variety of riding available.

cyclespeak
As it pertains to cycling—sock height, matching helmet colour to shoes, how you wear your glasses—are you one for ripping up the rule book?

Sean
Being a fan of the cycling aesthetic from the glory days, I actually tend to adhere to the rules. My shoes, as an example, are always white and I’m currently waiting on a new helmet to match. Tan lines need to be razor sharp. You get the drift.

Click image to open gallery

cyclespeak
So if we ever get to ride together…

Sean
You style it however it works for you. Wear what you want, ride what you like. All that we ask—and Alonso loves this phrase—is that you ride.

cyclespeak
So can you talk me through a race, ride, adventure that perfectly reflects the ethos and dynamic of CNCPT?

Sean
Me and the boys, we’re known as the guys that ride from LA to Las Vegas. And when we did the FKT* attempt, that kinda sums up CNCPT in a nutshell.

*Fastest known time

cyclespeak
How so?

Sean
Back in 2022, we were asked to do a release for the CNCPT branded Cervélo S5.

cyclespeak
Your bike sponsor?

Sean
One of the biggest steps that CNCPT took and luckily I was right there when it happened [laughs]. Having support from Cervélo is so fucking cool and we’re super blessed.

cyclespeak
And the FKT?

Sean
Normally, Cervélo won’t allow you to mess with their logo—basically you can’t fuck with their shit—but very fortunately, on this occasion, they said go ahead. So Bobby took that call to action, designed it, and that’s how we arrived at a CNCPT branded Cervélo S5. And for the launch, Alvin Escajeda came up with the idea that we’d all at one time or another, together or separately, ridden to Vegas. And what made it epitomise CNCPT was the sum of the parts and how we each took on a role.

cyclespeak
A team effort?

Sean
Exactly. Alvin came up with a route—350 miles of back ways that we would ride in 24 hours—Alonso handled all the media, Bobby drove a support vehicle, Cesar Alvarez was there to photograph the attempt, I sorted our hotel at the Vegas end so when we finished up riding we could immediately get showered and changed. We do a collective approach so we can all bounce ideas off each other and say, that’s fucked, we’re not doing that [laughs].

Click image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Because things don’t always go to plan? Sometimes they spiral out of control or just go straight up wrong?

Sean
That’s a side of ultras that maybe isn’t talked about but we’ve all been there and you can get fucked up pretty bad. And then you have this whole mental game of whether to scratch or push on through because the bad times only last so long. You can lie down, take a nap and then decide what to do. But it’s not all flowers and sausages and that’s something we like to address on the CNCPT feed and in our post-race interviews. If we get asked how it all went down, we’re happy to straight-up say it was fucking terrible.

cyclespeak
No sugar-coating?

Sean
As beautiful as cycling is as a sport, no matter what discipline you race it can be incredibly dark. Like back in the day when I was winning a few races, enjoying an amazing season, thinking I was the shit, and then the year after it felt like I didn’t know how to ride a bike. That feeling just defeats you.

cyclespeak
And now?

Sean
It’s a cliche but you come to realise that it’s the journey and not the destination that truly matters. Learning to push through and persevere through triumph and tragedy.

Sean pauses momentarily and appears visibly upset.

I’m feeling emotional because I’ve had this incredible journey through cycling—almost died a couple of times, won a few races, rode all over the world—and I wouldn’t change a thing.

cyclespeak
You almost died?

Sean
In 2023 I was racing a mountain bike ultra in San Diego. I’d dropped down into Del Mar to resupply and next thing I knew I was waking up in hospital. Turns out I’d been in a coma for five days—very close to death—after getting wiped out from behind by a distracted driver. My right leg was shattered and it took a lot of work to get back to riding and navigating a terrible TBI that I will have for life. So I guess you can say I’m still healing, still striving.

Click image to open gallery

cyclespeak
The tough times that you mention.

Sean
Being on the CNCPT team with people I consider as my best friends in both life and sport, is such a blessing. And in those moments when things get so difficult that all you want to do is stop and call it a day, what keeps you going is not wanting to let people down. It becomes more than just you and what you’re going through at any particular moment.

cyclespeak
My own riding over the past decade has changed considerably. Is it the same for you, personally, and CNCPT as a team?

Sean
Yes. One hundred percent. The desire to ride further, eat strange things, and get to know the people you meet in far flung places has definitely grown over time. Because that’s what’s so great about racing an ultra; what you see and experience on the road. Not that, in my younger days, I wouldn’t have been head down and focused. But you start to see the bike, not solely as a tool for performance, but also as a mechanism for discovery. Yes, I still love riding really, really fast, but if something attracts my attention, I’m going to stop and take a photo or have that treat the guy on the roadside is selling.

cyclespeak
We’ve talked a lot about what CNCPT is, but is there anything it isn’t or could never be?

Sean
I guess we’d never make it as a World Tour team [laughs].

cyclespeak
I’d like to see you guys rock up at the Tour’s Grand Départ. That might ruffle a few feathers?

Sean
I’m not sure my power numbers are quite there. But to answer your question, telling stories is a major part of what CNCPT is and will continue to be. But saying that, it’s never been about cranking out the next YouTube video to satisfy some expectation of influencer culture. That’s not who we are.

cyclespeak
So who are you then?

Sean
At the end of the day, we’re just a gang of misfits who really love racing our bikes.

All photography with kind permission of Sean Eric Martin and the CNCPT Team

Feature image by Alonso Tal (all other images credited individually)

Paul Declercq / Slow Spin Society

June 25, 2025Posted in Conversation, PhotographyTagged cameras, film, film photography, fixed gear, Leica, Leica M6, Photography, Slow Spin SocietyLeave a comment

It’s a bright, sunny day in Paris but Paul Declercq is busy working and yet to take advantage of the warm weather. Youthful and athletic in build, his voice is instantly recognisable from the Slow Spin Society podcast where he channels his fascination for all aspects of fixed gear culture.

After a peripatetic childhood and far from home on a gap year, it was a series of serendipitous chance encounters that sent Paul down the path he’s still travelling. A seismic shift in life and living that we explore in a metaphorical alleycat; conversational checkpoints referencing a frankly remarkable introduction to riding fixed, why he favours a film camera to document the scene, and the real-world realities of a career pursuing bike-based journalism.

cyclespeak
It looks like good weather for bike riding?

Paul
I’ve spent most of my day sitting in front of this computer so my ride will have to be later this afternoon.

cyclespeak
Are you taking our call from home?

Paul
Home hasn’t been a thing for me for the past three years. Which in reality means I’ve been hopping from one couch to another.

cyclespeak
Is that by choice or by circumstances?

Paul
It actually goes back to when I started the Slow Spin Society five years ago. And realising from the very beginning that I wouldn’t be able to make a reasonable living solely out of it. So that meant I was doing all manner of things on the side to help boost my earnings—some photography, working in a pizzeria, the usual stuff we all do—but that all changed when I broke up with my ex-partner and very quickly came to realise that I couldn’t afford rent on my own.

cyclespeak
It’s the same over here in England. The cost of living is crazy expensive.

Paul
That got me thinking that if I decided not to pay rent anymore, I could devote more time to growing Slow Spin Society so that, one day, I might make a living out of it. Which is why I’m staying a couple of weeks at one place, then another, and so on.

cyclespeak
That very much resonates with the time in which we live. The fact you need a salaried job to pay for a roof over your head but which, in turn, limits the creative freedom and energy to build something that isn’t a traditional business or profession.

Paul
Trust me, there are many, many days when I’m standing under the shower, telling myself that I need to get a normal job and live a normal life. But whenever I have, in the past, taken a nine to five position it’s never, ever, worked out for me.

cyclespeak
Can I ask why not?

Paul
There’s this idea that you can keep regular work hours and then use your free time to do your creative stuff. And I’m not looking down at everyone who does work nine to five because society simply couldn’t function without these people and they have my utmost respect. But I just find I lack the ability to do what I don’t want to do. So putting myself in work mode for eight hours a day—and enjoying my hobbies before or after that—just isn’t for me. And trust me, I’ve tried.

cyclespeak
Have you always felt the same way?

Paul
Funnily enough, I’ve always been pretty stubborn about what I want or don’t want to do. And now I find myself in this weird situation where my baseline for living is so low. I don’t have anyone to care for apart from myself, I don’t owe money to anyone, I’m very frugal and have correspondingly small needs. Which means that although I don’t make very much money and it’s not at all comfortable, for the time being it works.

cyclespeak
Is there a structure to your days? A recognisable routine?

Paul
There are some aspects of routine which I feel you actually need if you’re never at the same place for more than a couple of weeks at a time. And this might be a bit of a stretch in response to your question but if I ever feel really down, I go to McDonald’s and order some fries. Because wherever you are on this planet and however you feel, they are always the same. Which I personally find very comforting and helps me stay grounded if life is proving particularly challenging.

cyclespeak
So what does day-to-day look like?

Paul
When I wake up I always check my emails before doing some writing or research work. Because that’s what journalism is all about, the hunt for the next story and the next big thing. And then once I’ve finished any client work, I usually spend the afternoon purposefully off the computer. Maybe I’ll ride to a park or a coffee shop where I can organise my head and jot down any ideas or thoughts in a little notebook.

cyclespeak
Can I ask where you grew up and what you were like as a child?

Paul
I’m originally from a very small island next to Mauritius called Réunion Island; technically part of France so I have a French passport. And because my Dad travelled with work, we also lived in Africa in places like Senegal and Kenya. In the summer we would sometimes go back to France which is where I first started cycling—mainly riding mountain bikes—and then later I stayed in France for high school.

cyclespeak
Because of your upbringing, was there ever a sense of you being an outsider?

Paul
To be honest, I’ve never had a proper fit with the education system. Something about it just wasn’t for me; even though I tried really hard to fit in. It was a necessary step and physically I was present. But mentally? I was somewhere else.

cyclespeak
So how did this longing to get away play out?

Paul
Moving around a lot because of my Dad’s job, when I got a bit older I do remember picturing myself in a little apartment and embarking on a profession after university. But I had absolutely no idea about what I wanted to do, so I sat down with my Dad and asked him for a year. A year before starting university that I could use to figure things out. He agreed, saying that he would help me pay two months of rent but no more. So with his help, plus the money I’d saved from working pretty much all summer, I was off to a good start.

cyclespeak
So how did you spend that year?

Paul
I got one of those globes that light up and gave it a spin. Where my finger landed was where I would spend my year. You know, like in the movies.

cyclespeak
That’s a novel way of determining your future. Where did you go?

Paul
My finger landed on China but I wasn’t quite sure about that. Not that I don’t like China but I decided to just look at the other countries near to where my finger had landed and that’s when I decided on Japan.

cyclespeak
So quite a contrast in culture to your own.

Paul
A few weeks after I landed in Japan, someone I met in Tokyo offered to show me the trendy fashion district. When we were there, this guy walked up and asked if I was a model. My immediate reaction was that this was some sort of scam—I’d never in my entire life thought this would be a job I’d ever do—but the same scenario played out multiple times during the day until I finally allowed myself to be led to this showroom where I was fitted for a shoot the next day. I’d already applied for a few jobs with the companies that would take on foreigners but I was able to pick up enough freelance modelling to cover my rent. And then after eight or nine months, I was approached by a bigger agency who offered to sponsor my visa application in exchange for an exclusive contract. So I said, cool, okay, let’s do it.

cyclespeak
How did riding bikes fit in?

Paul
Up to that point, I would never have described cycling as my life. As a teenager I rode to school and went mountain biking on the weekend but bikes were a tool; a means to an end. The cultural side of my life was consumed by skateboarding and this continued when I got to Japan.

cyclespeak
So what changed?

Paul
One day I managed to break my board which was really upsetting because it was the only material thing I had that was a link to my past life. So I decided to check out this skate shop in the suburbs with a view to buying a new deck. On the train back into the city I got off one stop early to try out my new board in a nearby park. That’s where I saw this bunch of people who had boards but were also riding bikes. I had some conversational Japanese by then and they knew a little English so we got chatting and they invited me to a party later that evening. My immediate reaction was to say no as I didn’t want to slow them down but one of them lived around the corner and offered me a bike. So I rode to the party, had an amazing time, and discovered that most of them were bike messengers. They were planning a city ride the next day so I arranged to meet them and they had another bike for me to borrow. It wasn’t like I hadn’t ridden fixed gear before but this was Tokyo; one of the busiest urban environments you can experience. But it was such a good day and when it was time to go our separate ways, they asked me if I liked the bike. I told them I loved the bike and they said I should keep it.

cyclespeak
That’s amazing!

Paul
I’d known them for less than 48 hours and now I had a bike to ride and a group of friends to hang out with. And from that point moving forwards, I pretty much dropped everything I was doing and spent every day either going to castings, on a shoot, or hanging out with these people.

cyclespeak
So how does that bridge to the Slow Spin Society?

Paul
I was learning so much about the scene and that just encouraged me to dig a little deeper. I’m a late 90s kid so, to me, everything is on the internet but there was this huge gap between what people were saying to me anecdotally and whatever was available online. And what soon became apparent was that the underground nature of the scene meant that it simply wasn’t being archived comprehensively. Which is why I decided to start sharing content—in a sense I was self-feeding my curiosity—in the hope that it would encourage more people to try riding fixed. But this wasn’t something I could do simply with an Instagram account. It needed a bigger platform and that’s how Slow Spin Society started.

cyclespeak
Your Instagram bio leads with Good things take time. There is no need to go that fast. Why that particular emphasis?

Paul
The fixed gear scene comes and goes in popularity. I’m 30 years old and I’m personally witnessing a second cycle already. And with that comes certain narratives that state you need to ride brakeless in the city and jam yourself in traffic. That you need to go fast because if you’re not fast, then it’s not cool. Now don’t get me wrong, I love fixed gear but I also feel you don’t necessarily need to do all that to enjoy the scene. And from day one, I knew I wanted to make a meaningful space for all kinds of people to find inspiration and feel encouraged to get outside riding bikes. I’m very conscious that these things take time and—being someone who isn’t afraid to say no—I decided from the start to do things on my own terms. Even if that meant the pace of progress would be slow.

cyclespeak
What I find interesting and maybe feeds into this approach, is that all the imagery featured on the Slow Spin Society website is exclusively film photography. Can you talk about this artistic decision and whether it resonates with the feel and challenge of riding fixed gear?

Paul
There are a few things that feed into this. Firstly and perhaps most significantly, my grandfather was a war photographer and he influenced how I approached photography from a very early age. That’s not to say I haven’t had a digital phase but I found it both over and underwhelming. Your camera is either set to full auto and you simply point and shoot, or it’s set to manual so there’s shutter speed, aperture, ISO, white balance, along with a billion other settings that a modern digital camera has and will probably affect 1% of your image quality in a meaningful way.

cyclespeak
And film?

Paul
It feels like I’m stripping down the process to its simplest form. I guess in much the same way as my McDonald’s fries, I feel grounded and at home using a film camera.

cyclespeak
The camera you use is rather special in itself—a Leica M6—and that got me wondering what it would equate to as a fixed gear bike?

Paul
That’s not something I’ve ever even considered [laughs]. But I feel the closest match would be a No.22 Little Wing. Because the M6 does exactly what I need it to do and nothing more. It’s a good tool.

cyclespeak
And what prompted its purchase?

Paul
I’d spent a lot of time with a Nikon F3 and F100—both very accomplished cameras—but they are heavy and quite bulky and I often left them at home when I was going out on a ride. So I initially switched to the M6 for weight reasons after I asked a friend in Japan for advice on a rangefinder. He immediately suggested a Leica but warned me that as soon as I held one in my hands, I was done.

cyclespeak
Was he proved right?

Paul
To be honest, I was sceptical but decided to visit a second hand camera shop anyway. I went in, asked if they had any used film Leicas, picked up the M6 they had in stock and…

cyclespeak
And?

Paul
I was done [laughs]. The only problem being that it was way over my budget. Incredibly over my budget. So I sold a lot of stuff including maybe a dozen bikes but it was exactly the right camera for me.

cyclespeak
It’s a rangefinder so no auto focus which must make shooting on the bike a little tricky?

Paul
You use what’s called hyper-focal distances. Meaning that, if I have a 35mm focal length lens and close down the aperture to f/8, I know that everything between three metres and infinity will be in focus.

cyclespeak
When I sat down to chat with fixed gear legend Chas Christiansen, we were talking about his bike garage and in particular his Cannondale Track which he describes as a unicorn bike. And that got me thinking about how certain individuals collect classic cars from bygone eras and whether any modern day cars will eventually gain classic status. So my question is, are there any contemporary track bikes that will eventually rival the Cannondale as a classic?

Paul
It’s hard to say because the way we produce and consume today is so very different to 40 or 50 years ago. Contemporary super cars achieve a collectable status but is that through passion and sentiment or solely because of the investment returns? It’s expensive so it’s good.

cyclespeak
And bikes?

Paul
There are definitely parallels in cycling. In the way that Specialized release a new Tarmac every year and it’s a great bike, a very fast bike, but is any variant legendary in the same way as the Cannondale Track? Which might be explained by our love of nostalgia and a yearning for the past. So in answer to your question, I feel it’s doubtful a contemporary bike can achieve legendary status solely through its form or function. But maybe it can by whoever rides it and their own individual story.

cyclespeak
So by association? A bike can be imbued with the rider’s sense of cool?

Paul
Exactly.

cyclespeak
I feel like it would be remiss of me not to ask. Have you found your unicorn bike?

Paul
Good question [laughs]. And there are so many amazing bikes that I’ve owned but my Cinelli Mash Parallax takes some beating. I’ve had it repainted so there are flames on it, I travel with it, I meet people with it, people recognise me when I’m riding it and wave. Even if it doesn’t have a lot of monetary value—it wasn’t an expensive bike—it still means a lot to me. So that’s the closest I can get to a unicorn bike.

cyclespeak
Cycling as a pastime or pursuit can be very diverse with multiple disciplines and attitudes. Is the fixed gear world tribal?

Paul
The thing about any underground culture is that it brings people, outcasts, together. Ten years ago, when track bike parts were a bit harder to find, once you’d bought from a particular person you’d tend to stick with them. And then you also have to factor in how for roadies, time trialists, mountain bikers, the cycling industry is forever innovating new parts, components, frames and accessories just for you. That also happens with fixed gear brands but to a much lesser extent. Most of the time, it’s you and the people that look and think like you.

cyclespeak
So I’ve just bought my first single speed bike: a road frame conversion with front and back cantilever brakes and a freewheel. Let’s imagine I show up at your Thursday night ride. Is that configuration acceptable or would I get comments about not riding fixed?

Paul
I would love you to be there. Because in my mind, as long as you’re having fun, it doesn’t matter what kind of bike you ride. Everybody has something to bring to the table and I would hate to refuse you a good time just because you have a freewheel.

cyclespeak
But I’m guessing there are still points of ride and style etiquette in the fixed gear world?

Paul
We might be an underground culture—the bunch of outcasts that I mentioned—but it definitively exists. Like if you ride a true fixed gear then you should ride brakeless. And how a fixed gear road bike conversion will never be as cool as a pure-breed track bike. But like a lot of this type of thing, you can buy into it or not.

cyclespeak
So let’s imagine I’m riding a pure-breed track bike through the city, what should I be wearing to complement that aesthetic?

Paul
You can be pretty flexible. But now that I’m thinking about it, maybe not.

cyclespeak
Go on then. Paint me a picture.

Paul
There’s definitely a range of extremes and to be considered normal you need to be somewhere in the middle. If you go bibshorts, road pedals, helmet, sunglasses, then people will think you’re taking yourself way too seriously. But if you go jean-shorts over leggings, mountain bike shoes and a huge bag slung over one shoulder, then you’ll get looks questioning whether you’re a real messenger or just someone pretending. So it’s probably safer to go full-on casual which still leaves you a lot of scope for individual creativity.

cyclespeak
And how about the etiquette of a group ride? The dos and don’ts?

Paul
If you’re riding brakeless your stopping distance is going to be longer so that’s probably the main thing to think about. But in terms of etiquette, the fixed gear scene is definitely a lot more relaxed than road cycling. It’s a bit more wild and attracts a younger crowd.

cyclespeak
What’s your take on the videos you see posted where someone is playing chicken with oncoming cars?

Paul
I, personally, do not ride to impress. But that is a feature of fixed gear. So I guess that as long as you’re riding within your abilities and not putting others in danger, then do whatever you want. But I also sometimes see people taking a certain pride in putting themselves in potentially tricky situations, which fed into my original decision to call this Slow Spin Society. Because we all enjoy the same kind of bikes and you can be one of us without the need to ride at 30kph against the flow of traffic.

cyclespeak
That’s something I find refreshing regarding the Slow Spin Society podcast. How you’re comfortable gently poking fun at your own world and its clichés.

Paul
They apply to me as much as anyone else [laughs]. Because I’m one hundred percent guilty of showing up to a party and literally waiting until someone talks to me about my bike. But one of the key values of Slow Spin Society is authenticity. I want to stay real.

cyclespeak
So, with that in mind, where do you see the Slow Spin Society in five years time?

Paul
That’s a great question.

cyclespeak
With a great answer?

Paul
What’s funny is that my love for fixed gear has turned into a love for everything that doesn’t fit under the term competitive cycling. And what that means is that I started with track bikes but now I also enjoy bike packing, touring with friends, and everything that offers me a good time on two wheels. I even want to give road bikes a go but in a gentle, relaxed, non-roadie manner. Just having fun, riding bikes with my friends. That’s all I want.

cyclespeak
And how does all that fit with Slow Spin Society?

Paul
Maybe as a hub for alternative cycling? To continue the growth of a meaningful culture that connects the manufacturing side of things with the community. One needs the other but the problem nowadays is that brands are rarely willing to pay for journalism. They’ll offer to give you a frame set or a pair of wheels—which at face value might seem pretty sweet—but I’m sorry to inform everyone that it doesn’t put food on the table or help pay the rent. If, that is, at some point in the future I even have a place I can call home.

cyclespeak
Quite the dilemma.

Paul
You know, here I am putting all my time and energy into Slow Spin Society—and I fucking love what I do—but if you want thoughtful, independent cycling media to exist, then we have to start treating it as real work. Because it is.

cyclespeak
What do you think the mid-teens Paul would say if he could see you now?

Paul
Probably something along the lines of, “A bike. Are you kidding me?”

cyclespeak
Really?

Paul
Maybe that response is because my younger self was obsessed with motorsport and didn’t see much value in human powered motion. But also because whenever I think about what I’ve been building with Slow Spin Society, I’m aware that it’s not quite there yet. It’s definitely something but not fully formed. So I’m a forever dissatisfied person constantly striving to do better.

cyclespeak
Can I just stop you there to suggest there’s not one single creative person I’ve spoken with who’s ever able to say, “Right, I’m done.” They are constantly questioning, constantly looking to refine.

Paul
That kind of makes sense. So going back to my mid-teen self, maybe they would give me a thumbs up and tell me to keep going. That I’m almost there?

All photography shot on film by Paul using his Leica M6 / Slow Spin Society

Feature image by Philipp Grutzmann

Click on image to open gallery

Karter Machen / Just happy to be here

April 28, 2025Posted in Conversation, InterviewTagged gravel racing, Photography, the great southern country1 Comment

Photographer Karter Machen has recently returned from a month long circumnavigation of Australia where, camera in hand, he shadowed ultra-distance racing legend Lachlan Morton. The resulting photographs—freeze framed moments that document this epic undertaking—beautifully reflect Karter’s instinctive ability to combine elements of emotional intensity and poetic storytelling into a single, still image.

Now home in Washington State but busy planning a potential relocation to Europe, we sat down over a call to discuss Karter’s creative journey and how this informs his own sense of wellbeing. A circuitous conversation that strays towards the philosophical in questioning what we really need to feel whole in an increasingly fragmented world.

cyclespeak
Australia looked amazing. An enjoyable trip?

Karter
One of the most intense experiences of my life to date. Each and every day had its surprises.

cyclespeak
The resulting film directed by Gus Morton did seem to suggest that, by necessity, you were making things up on the fly?

Karter
Plans kept being thrown out of the window but you roll with the punches.

cyclespeak
My youngest son commented that all the people I interview have really cool names. He’ll be pleased to know that you’re continuing this tradition.

Karter
A lot of my family came from Wales. There’s a town there called Machen and I guess quite a few of them got on a boat in the 1700s and sailed over here. But it’s pronounced like you’d say May-chin so no one ever says it correctly the first time [laughs].

cyclespeak
So you have to explain…

Karter
Every time. And that goes for my first name too. Karter with a K.

cyclespeak
Can we start with a whistle stop tour of your childhood?

Karter
I grew up in Idaho Falls. A small farm community—basically potatoes as far as the eye can see—so it was a case of making your own fun. A lot of time spent outside, playing in the irrigation canals that watered the fields. We’d jump right in and float all day.

cyclespeak
And sports?

Karter
I had no interest whatsoever in endurance sports. And cycling specifically was never really a thing where I grew up. We had bikes to get around but the idea that people raced them was just foreign to us. So I played a lot of American Football. Just like the movie where the whole town turns out for the game. And then later in life I started to transition into action sports. My older brother was an excellent skier so I followed his path. And it wasn’t until my late teens that I discovered cycling.

The Divide Film Tour // EF

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
And what did that look like?

Karter
I got a downhill mountain bike and then a couple of years later Creg Fielding, a friend of my Dad’s, introduced me to the road scene. He let me borrow a bike and some kit and took me out for a ride. Probably one of the worst experiences of my life…

cyclespeak
It was?

Karter
My legs were on fire—on a 12 mile ride—and I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out how anyone could do this for fun. But over the following three years it very quickly took over my life. I had a lot of time on my hands and needed something to do. And choosing to ride a bike really shifted my whole perception of mental health and navigating through life. Being able to slow things down and process life with all its complications. It changed my mindset and, eventually, changed my career.

cyclespeak
But first there was college?

Karter
I started a business degree but didn’t really have a plan. And I had a few part-time jobs: working as a waiter and as a tour guide in Moab, Utah, where I rock-crawled big Hummer trucks. It was around this time that I got my first camera and started to shoot friend’s weddings. Doing that prompted me to drop out of college and find work in media production. I spent a while working as a junior creative director for a marketing agency. So primarily video production.

cyclespeak
Can you pinpoint a moment when the camera switched from simply recording an event—you mentioned weddings—to something you could use to tell stories?

Karter
That’s an interesting question. And I guess it was a gradual process during my media career. Because initially, the camera was a tool and there was no passion. Just a means to make a living. But then I’d go on trips with my friends and take pictures and it was those pictures that I loved. And then, when I would give people a copy and see how much it meant to them, that also became a driving force and the shift in perspective that maybe I needed.

Amstel Gold // La Flèche Wallonne

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Looking through your portfolio, your images are rarely straight and static. There are strong directional diagonals, shifts of subject weight in the frame, a focusing-in on faces and hands. And I was wondering whether this approach is a series of conscious decisions or more of an instinctive response?

Karter
In those heightened moments when so much is going on, we use the term spray and pray. But as my career has progressed—maybe leaning on past experience—I’ve started to take fewer and fewer images. And then in post production, I’ll look at the framing to help tell the story.

cyclespeak
Does film photography interest you at all? To purposefully slow down the process?

Karter
I rented a Leica Q2 to capture the European leg of the film tour that Lachlan and Gus Morton did for the Tour Divide. A digital camera but it still slowed down the way I shot an image. And that also coincided with a period of time when I was changing how I was framing and composing each shot. Which provides its own sense of satisfaction when you take fewer images but with a good proportion that are strong.

cyclespeak
So is it about capturing a moment? Documenting what is happening?

Karter
I guess what was once a process of documenting whatever was happening is now shifting towards more of a narrative. And there’s this phrase—a moment in time—that for a while has really resonated with me. So having the opportunity to just be present and capture something that will never happen in the same way ever again feels pretty special.

cyclespeak
A story captured in a single frame, forever?

Karter
Which I guess is why I enjoy looking back over previous work and having the memories of those moments resurface.

cyclespeak
As a creative individual, where do you seek inspiration?

Karter
That’s another good question. Because I don’t always see myself as a creative person.

cyclespeak
Can I ask why not?

Karter
Maybe there’s a slight imposter syndrome? And I just struggle to feel that way about my own work.

cyclespeak
You’re not alone in thinking that way. Because I find a lot of creative people are always hyper critical about their work and find it difficult to feel a sense of satisfaction.

Pretty Great Instant

Click image to enlarge

Karter
Looking back on my career, there was a lot of, if the client’s happy, then job done. And then there’s been the whole battle with social media coming of age. Always comparing and fixating over likes and who’s getting attention. All the bullshit that comes with seeking validation from these platforms.

cyclespeak
But most people struggle with that in some way or another?

Karter
I guess they do. And now I try not to concern myself with those thoughts. I strive to capture a good image and if I’m happy, then that’s enough. And it’s only taken me seven years to arrive at this point [laughs].

cyclespeak
You say a good image. Can I ask how you make that judgement?

Karter
I guess what it comes down to, for me, is capturing the emotion. Whether that’s the landscape, the weather, however the subject is reacting to their environment. The full picture. And all of that in a single, fixed frame.

cyclespeak
People looking at what you do for a living—the travel, the exciting events, the exotic locations—they might very well perceive that as a glamorous job. But nothing is ever easy in life—there are always stresses and strains—so what are the realities, your reality, of earning a living as a photographer?

Karter
There’s a lot of sacrifice. Not a unique aspect but there’s been so much time with loved ones that I’ve missed. And I do feel incredibly fortunate that I get to experience all these things but there can be weeks and weeks without any sense of normalcy: late nights, early mornings, crazy hours, and a lot of unknowns that you just have to battle. You have to roll with the circumstances which interestingly has also trickled down into my day-to-day life.

cyclespeak
How so?

Karter
Certain shoots can bring with them an immense pressure on what you need to get done. You’re making decisions on the fly and managing your outcomes to the best of your ability. So when something happens in your personal life, as much as you might want to mope about it, you learn to make the necessary decisions and keep moving.

cyclespeak
Does your cycling have a similar effect?

Karter
I guess when you voluntarily put yourself in situations that are just awful. When you’ve been pedalling your bike for 15 hours and asking yourself why you’re doing it?

The Pony Express 100

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
When were you riding for 15 hours?

Karter
Last year I did a 200 mile gravel race in Utah that was routed along the old pony express roads. And I say roads in the loosest of terms. But taking on these challenges teaches you the value of time well spent. No scrolling on your phone, no TV, just alone with your thoughts and nowhere to hide if that makes sense? Because it’s going to crack you open at some point and that forces you to look at yourself in a very raw sense. And that’s really helped me to get a grasp on a lot of things in my life that previously I found problematic.

cyclespeak
You mentioned the pressure of social media in relation to your photography. So is it fair to say we’re increasingly fed this idea of happiness as a state of being? The reward for wanting whatever brands have to sell. But life is sometimes balanced by sadness and maybe if we aimed for contentment, then that’s a more realistic goal?

Karter
I’m one hundred percent on the same page. True happiness is fleeting at best. Something my girlfriend and I were talking about yesterday on a walk. How we question what we’re doing with our lives.

cyclespeak
Did you come to any conclusions?

Karter
I want to be confident in my own decisions. With my photography but also my morning routines, my diet, my leisure time, the clothes that I wear and the bikes that I ride.

cyclespeak
So how does that relate to your cameras? Are they a toolkit for doing your job or is there an emotional element?

Karter
Recently it’s started to feel nice.

cyclespeak
Why the change?

Long pause

Karter
Probably because I’ve been more true to myself in how I capture things. A slowing down and finding joy in the process. More of a connection with the camera when before it was just something I used to capture what the client wanted. And The Great Southern Country also played a part because I went in with total creative freedom and was able to feel a sense of pride with the images that came out of that experience.

cyclespeak
So looking at your life in general, is each and every day an adventure? Something to be appreciated?

Karter
I believe so. And that kind of leads into my freelance way of working after spending so many years with a 9-5 routine. If I can learn something each day, see something that fascinates, enjoy the simple things that maybe we take for granted?

cyclespeak
I guess what you’re describing is being present in whatever you’re doing rather than a constant searching for bigger and better?

The Great Southern Country

Click image to enlarge

Karter
One of my personal mantras—for want of a better word—is to live with awe. And that might be the birds singing on your morning walk or a conversation with a random stranger at the airline check-in desk. Our lives are filled with junk from the marketing messages in our inbox, to the way our phones encourage us to keep scrolling. But there’s so much, right in front of us, that’s so worth appreciating.

cyclespeak
I understand that travel is a necessity for your profession. So what is your concept of home? A place, people, belongings or something else?

Karter
That is such a good question. And for me, I try to feel at home wherever I am. Maybe because my schedule can be a little chaotic. But what anchors me most is the time I spend with my partner Emily.

cyclespeak
Is there anything you carry with you on work trips that has a sense of home?

Karter reaches out of shot before holding up a leather-bound notebook

Karter
My Mom gave me this a while back and it just sat in a drawer. But then one day I stumbled upon it and it’s been travelling with me ever since. On the front it says write something worth reading or do something worth writing. I don’t use it as a journal but, if the mood takes me and I feel inspired, then I’ll jot down whatever is on my mind.

cyclespeak
How do bikes fit into life and living? Because I saw on your feed that you have a very nice Standert which I guess is a rarity in the States?

Karter
I love that bike. And yes, most people I meet don’t recognise the brand as it’s Berlin-based. And I arrived at this particular bike after disappearing down the rabbit hole of lightweight carbon with all the whistles and bells to make you go faster. But then I saw my first Standert and was just struck by their beauty and the story behind the brand. So removed from the conversations I’d been having where I was questioning whether it’s worth spending an extra $2000 to save 150g. It was a case of, enough, I just want to ride a bike that resonates with me, that has the same kind of vibe as owning a classic car.

cyclespeak
I was intrigued by your Instagram bio where it states you’re just happy to be here.

Karter
It’s just something I’ve always said. Because people will apologise when I’m on a shoot if the weather is bad or there’s a problem with logistics. Which is very nice of them but I’ll stop them and say, “I’m just happy to be here”. Because everything doesn’t always go according to plan and to be very upfront, I had a long battle with depression and experienced some difficult times. So learning to fall in love with life again, no matter what’s happening, I’m just happy to be here.

All photography with kind permission of Karter Machen / kartermachen.com

Chas Christiansen / In search of the stoke

March 12, 2025March 13, 2025Posted in ConversationTagged bike messenger, bike messenging, Chas Christiansen, cinelli, fixed gear, gravel bikes, gravel racing, mashsf, notchas, Oakley, Red Hook critLeave a comment

Former bike messenger, fixed-gear legend, artist, photographer, and bike aficionado; Chas Christiansen offers up an intriguing narrative on embracing each and every opportunity. Threaded through with a rich vein of self-deprecating humour, this Oakley wearing modern day Renaissance Man offloads on the hits he’s taken, the hardwon moments of clarity, and his continuing search for the stoke.

Chas
Hey! Whatsup?

cyclespeak
All good here. Especially as the stars are aligned for our call. I was driving into Manchester early this morning, only to pull up behind a plumber’s van and see one of the stickers adorning the rear doors spelling out CHAS.

Chas
Well there you go.

cyclespeak
You’re calling from home?

Chas
This is my basement studio space. Or more technically—because there’s a risk of earthquakes in the San Francisco Bay Area—my first floor above ground.

cyclespeak
We find that all very confusing because your first floor is our ground floor.

Chas
Oh, I hear you. And, in the States, if you do see a button marked G in an elevator, you might press it expecting the ground floor but in fact it takes you to the garage.

cyclespeak
You mentioned San Francisco as home?

Chas
Actually it’s Oakland. And that’s a big distinction for the locals.

cyclespeak
So it’s important?

Chas
Oh definitely. It’s a little like comparing Manhattan to Brooklyn.

cyclespeak
So which one is a) cooler and b) more affordable?

Chas
That’s a tough question [laughs]. And I’m going to say Oakland for both.

Click on image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Has Oakland become cooler since you took up residency?

Chas
Not at all [laughs]. But what I can say is that a lot of what I liked about San Francisco has changed—which is the nature of cities—yet Oakland still retains those key aspects that make it feel like home. There’s more of an artist based community, things are less driven by money, it’s a little more bohemian.

cyclespeak
I’m guessing Chas is short for Charles.

Chas
It is. Charles William Christiansen.

cyclespeak
Does anyone call you Charles?

Chas
The police and my grandmother. My Mom changed to Chas. And I definitely don’t answer to Chuck.

cyclespeak
You’ve just had a show of your artwork and photography open in San Francisco. I’m guessing a busy, fun-filled, exhausting weekend?

Chas
I have not been this fulfilled in quite some time. On so many different levels. I’ve had all this stuff bouncing around in my head for years, so to see it all come together felt amazing. But it was the response from my community that was especially touching. My whole goal was to recreate the scene from a decade ago when we’d visit gallery after gallery on a Friday night before all ending up at a bar. And at the opening night of my show, I had the same feeling as hundreds of people spilled out onto the street.

cyclespeak
Bikes, bike racing and artistic endeavors all seem intertwined in how you live your life. And your show was titled Born to fuck around, forced to find out. So looking back to your childhood, were you raised in a creative, outdoorsy environment?

Chas
Not really, no. I grew up outside of Olympia, Washington. Lower middle-class, so not poor but we definitely didn’t have a lot of money. We’d go camping every once in a while and I remember hiking a couple of times. As for being creative, I’ve always been into drawing but the house wasn’t filled with art.

cyclespeak
On your Instagram feed, there’s a certain confidence you exude when you engage with the camera. And I was wondering whether you were one of the cool kids at school, possibly an extrovert in class, or maybe kind of shy and retiring?

Chas
I think it’s fair to say that I’ve always had the ability to connect with people. But I was more of a nerd and definitely not one of the cool kids. I was a reader, I worked at the theatre and hung around with the drama kids. And I was a skateboarder, I was into punk and had a mohawk. So quite a mix but, at the same time, I went to all the parties and was on good terms with everybody.

Click on image to enlarge

cyclespeak
A planned career travelling the world in the Merchant Marine was cut short after you were arrested for tagging a building. And after paying your dues, you eventually landed in Portland where you could snowboard. And I believe you were known for driving up to the slopes in your convertible, fully kitted out and wearing snow goggles?

Chas
Yes, sir. That sounds about right [laughs].

cyclespeak
So how did you end up working as a bike messenger?

Chas
I rode bikes as a kid but was never super serious about it. But that convertible got me into some trouble to the tune of 22 speeding tickets in two years. So finally they took away my licence—funnily enough on the way up to go snowboarding—when I was pulled over literally a hundred feet from the resort. They arrested me, took me down to the station, impounded my car and that left me without any means of transport for getting to work.

cyclespeak
Which is where the bike comes in?

Chas
I was washing dishes at this super fine-dining restaurant and one of the servers suggested I get a bike. He even took me to a bike shop and sorted me out with this old Fuji cyclocross frame. So there I was, riding to work, and beginning to notice all the different people commuting by bike. The ones that always stood out were riding these super sleek bikes. They all had tattoos and looked cool but it was the way they’d skid that really got me.

cyclespeak
I can see the attraction.

Chas
Eventually I figured out they were bike messengers and there was this alley-cat scene. At that time I wasn’t earning a lot of money, was pretty broke, and the only cycling kit I had was hand-me-downs so I felt really out of place. But they were wearing cut-off shorts and a tee. And it just hit me that these were my kind of people.

cyclespeak
And a potential new scene to explore?

Chas
Absolutely. So in my lunch break—I was now working as a butcher—I would chase them all around downtown and, in the process, get them all super annoyed. Until finally, one of them took me aside and told me to meet them later at the Ash Street Saloon. I showed up at the appointed time, paid my five dollar entry fee, and raced my first alley-cat. And that’s when I had this moment of clarity. Because these people got paid to ride their bikes. I was a fucking butcher and packed sausages for a living.

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cyclespeak
So you decided to switch career paths?

Chas
I kept on racing alley-cats until this messenger guy told me he was leaving Portland and did I want him to put in a good word for me to take over his job. So he did, I went in and talked to the dispatcher, got the job and quit being a butcher.

cyclespeak
It does look amazingly cool but what were the realities of your life as a messenger?

Chas
It’s the best, worst job in the world. You’re essentially given these tasks but then left to your own devices to figure out how to complete them. So there’s plenty of opportunities to learn about self-sufficiency and every day is different. There’s this fucking amazing community but the downside is that this same community can also be really toxic. It’s not a job with a lot of upward advancement and there’s a lot of partying and drug use. So it’s fun when you’re young but if you’re still drinking with the boys and girls into your thirties, it can start to wear on you.

cyclespeak
So a hard life?

Chas
It kills your body and that’s not just the partying. It’s a physical job and you take hits. I’ve had scrapes with so many cars and there’s no health insurance by and large so you inevitably go back to work before you really should. I was fortunate and got out at a good time—it helps to have an exit strategy—but my knees are still shot.

cyclespeak
You did more than get out of it. You founded the messenger company TCB*.

*Taking Care of Business

Chas
That’s another thing. You should never form a bike messenger company if you want to make money [laughs].

cyclespeak
It’s like they say: if you want to make a million in the cycling industry, start with two.

Chas
Exactly. But I’d worked as a messenger for enough shitty companies that I wanted to ensure that everyone who worked for TCB made good money and was taken care of.

cyclespeak
How long did it take before you were riding fixed without thinking about it?

Chas
A couple of years at least. When I first started riding a track bike, I was all over the road. And it honestly wasn’t until I moved to San Francisco and had to really deal with the hills that my confidence grew. But even then I took my fair share of hits and left skin on the ground.

cyclespeak
But eventually there’s a moment when things just click into place?

Chas
It got to the point where I would ride two or three miles through congested downtown traffic and not remember how I got there. Yes, I was conscious of talking over the phone and the dispatcher’s voice on the radio, but the actual movement between drops was a blur. So maybe that was my 10,000 hour moment when I could ride through traffic without the need for conscious thought?

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cyclespeak
Was this the gateway to racing Red Hook?

Chas
I think it was. Because David Trimble started Red Hook so that his bike messenger and road-race friends could all come to his birthday party. But even though I regularly rode alley-cats, I didn’t come from a professional racing background. There had never been any talk of watts, a training plan, stretching, or a racing kit. Recovery, for me, was slamming three beers before crashing out on the couch. So Red Hook was probably the easiest way that I could step into sanctioned racing and rub shoulders with professionals. You spend enough time with those guys and things start to rub off.

cyclespeak
And then gravel came calling?

Chas
That was the Grasshopper adventure series. And back then, they were essentially alley-cats. You would show up at this small town in northern California and they’d give you a spoke card with the route printed on the back. And that just connected with me. You had to figure it out without recourse to a smartphone or GPS device. You were self-sufficient and left to your own devices which is pretty much how being a bike messenger works. And then stepping into ultra-distance racing with the Transcontinental, it’s basically just an even bigger alley-cat. You start here, end there, and there’s four checkpoints you need to pass through. It might take two or three weeks as opposed to four hours but I already understood the concept.

cyclespeak
You scaled it?

Chas
One hundred percent. From racing city streets to racing across continental Europe.

cyclespeak
On your website’s Garage page there’s a No22 Little Wing titanium track bike that you term a forever bike. And that got me wondering why you could never part with it? Is it the memories it embodies, or the way it rides?

Chas
Kind of all of the above. I rode for MASH for a really long time and No22 was the first bike company that supported me after I stepped away from Cinelli. And I was intrigued by titanium—in the room next door there’s a huge stack of broken aluminium and steel frames—and I just hope, when I’m 65, that I’m still riding that track bike down to the coffee shop.

cyclespeak
Another Garage bike—I could happily go on, referencing each and every example—is a 1993 Cannondale track bike that you rode the shit out of as a messenger in Portland. A bike you term a unicorn. Can you put into words what it feels like, both physically and emotionally, to ride fixed through the city streets?

Chas
This is going to sound a little trite but there’s this connection to a machine that is purely instinctive. And when you pair that with flowing through city traffic—faster and smoother than any other vehicle—you get this intense feeling of freedom. It’s very intuitive so mentally you’re disconnected from the physical. And because it’s fixed, you’re not thinking about what gear you’re in or when to hit the brakes: it’s this gap, that gap, make the light. You’re not looking immediately in front of you, you’re looking ten moves ahead. Dodging and weaving—your heart rate elevated—and it’s those moments that I feel the greatest sense of freedom because I’m not constrained by anything.

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cyclespeak
Just backing up to your first Transcontinental, on the face of it that was a big leap into the unknown. But you’d already ridden from Portland to Chicago to attend a messenger race. On a track bike, with a paper map.

Chas
That’s what’s so funny about the move to ultras. Because like you said, we’d already been doing it forever. But what got me to the start line of the Transcontinental, was the kit company PEdALED hitting up me and my forever partner in crime, Nico Deportago-Cabrera.

cyclespeak
And what did they say?

Chas
They told us there was this thing and they could get us in if we wanted to do it. And we were like, why not? Because at that time, if pretty much anyone was offering us an opportunity to travel, the answer would be a yes.

cyclespeak
So you were in.

Chas
But with no fucking clue as to how big a deal the Transcontinental was. To the extent that we got a lot of beef when we scratched at the fourth checkpoint so we could go race the Cycle Messenger World Championship. I can remember handing over our trackers at the top of some mountain in Romania and thinking, fuck, how do we now get to Montreal in 49 hours? But we muddled through and when we got home, discovered the internet was really pissed off with us. Nico did the research and it was, dude, this ultra-racing is a really big deal. Which was the main motivation for going back to the Transcontinental the next year and finishing.

cyclespeak
I guess there’s a physical and mental aspect to both a fixed-gear crit and a multi-day, ultra-distance race?

Chas
Mental strength and self-sufficiency play a huge part in both alley-cats and ultra events. However you want to do it, is how you do it. Yes, there are some rules that determine how the race goes down, but no one is really saying that it has to be this or that way. And when all’s said and done, it’s about not taking setbacks as the end of your race.

cyclespeak
But there is a difference between the disciplines?

Chas
As I see it, if you win a fixed-gear crit, you go to the podium and the crowd is screaming. But when you finish an ultra event, most of the time nobody is there. And there’s been times I’ve wrapped up my race at 3:00am in a parking lot and just started crying. So if you put me on the spot, I’d say that finishing within the time cut of an ultra is a more fulfilling experience.

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cyclespeak
Can you picture one of your lowest, low points in a race and describe how you dug yourself out of that hole?

Chas
I didn’t. Because sometimes you don’t. And that’s the hard truth of not only ultra-distance racing but of life in general. I entered the inaugural Atlas Mountain Race in Morocco as a pair with Nico and his fork broke. We’d already discussed what would happen if one of us couldn’t continue—that we’d carry on alone—but riding away and leaving him behind was devastating. And it soon became apparent that I just wasn’t emotionally ready to be out there by myself. So after three days of pushing on alone, I scratched.

cyclespeak
What made you decide to stop?

Chas
I’m all about the positive mental attitude and that works fine until it doesn’t. So I guess I just got to the point where I was so sad, so scared, so overwhelmed, that I just had to call it. A heartbreaking experience that left me crying in the back of a cab in Morocco with the driver staring back through the rear-view mirror at this unwashed, stinky and dishevelled guy.

cyclespeak
Coming full circle back to your artistic pursuits, there are numerous examples of your doodling that I find incredibly exciting. Can you talk me through where it’s taken you and where it’s going?

Chas
I have no idea where it’s going [laughs]. But I was always encouraged to draw and I’ve always been a doodler. That, in turn, led to graffiti and me getting arrested for tagging a building.

cyclespeak
And it now inspires your creative expression as an artist?

Chas
It’s a deep part of messenger culture and when I was working in the city—making drops at Fortune 500 company offices, basement businesses, and everywhere in between—I would hear people talking and clock the signage on the streets. So I decided—rather than lose all these references—that I would write them down. And not wanting to tag on someone’s property led me to start drawing on the things I would get sent by my sponsors. Whether it was a helmet or a pair of shoes; I would personalise it with my doodles. Then when I started to travel, I would return home with notebooks full of thoughts and ideas, images on my iPhone and photographs I’d taken with my film camera. I didn’t have any canvases but what I did have lying around were disc wheels and brake calipers and it’s all just evolved from there. A stream of consciousness that I transfer onto physical objects.

cyclespeak
You mention photographs and a couple of months back you posted a series of images shot on a roll of film that had been mistakenly put through the camera twice. An accident but a very fortuitous one.

Chas
Double exposure shots are something I’m always playing with but those turned out better than the ones I purposefully try for. And I love film cameras in general. You take a shot on your phone or with a digital camera and you can see it immediately, you can edit it on the fly, there’s instant gratification. But I have multiple film cameras on the go at any one moment and some of those have rolls in there for six to nine months. So you have this chronology of things that you’ve done and moments that you’ve probably forgotten. And it’s only when the roll gets developed and the shots are printed that you get reminded of that. I like the idea of documenting life and then seeing whatever you get out of it.

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cyclespeak
You’re comfortable with this analogue process?

Chas
My generation is the very last to truly remember a pre-internet age. I wrote my first papers by hand and I didn’t get a smartphone until I was 25. And you know what, I feel really privileged to be part of the generation that bridges that gap.

cyclespeak
But you wouldn’t want to wind the clock back?

Chas
There are lots of advantages to having our current level of connectivity. But I can’t help missing the travelling I did before I got my first smartphone. That feeling you had when you were lost and had to ask for directions. You had so many interactions with the people in the place you were at. Now you just ask your phone for the top-ten rated restaurants and you follow the blue dots. The first international trips I made to race alley-cats, you got handed a physical map and you memorised the landmarks. Not that it’s better or worse but I just miss analogue travel.

cyclespeak
Zooming in on day-to-day life and living, is there such a thing as a typical day?

Chas
I’m trying to get there [laughs]. These last three years, I feel like I’ve finally achieved a life goal of being an international, globetrotting, professional cyclist. I’ve been fully sponsored by Oakley and it’s been amazing. But all that equates to 180 days out of every year on the road. And as with most things in life—when you dare to live your dream—inevitably it starts to tarnish. It’s hard to be a parent and a partner when you spend so much time away from home. Frequent flyer miles are fun and cool but you reach the point where it starts to feel like work. Which really bums me out because living that life was truly special. So this year, I’m still racing bikes but what was once a typical day—returning from a trip, catching up on laundry, before getting on another plane—will now involve more time at home, more time in my studio, and more of a focus on quality over quantity in the races I do.

cyclespeak
Your Instagram profile leads out with Exploring the world in search of the stoke. What, to you, does this embody and have you found it?

Chas
The stoke is a feeling of freedom and speed. That moment when everything else falls away and you’re one hundred percent focused. And, for me, I find that on the bike. Whether that’s a track bike on city streets, a training ride to a mountain top, or crossing a desert on a hardtail; whatever is happening in front of you is your entire existence. Your body and soul focusing on one thing without distraction. Not that it’s a perpetual state of being—it’s fleeting—but I like to think it’s a never-ending search. And like I’ve already mentioned, I’m big into PMA—positive mental attitude—but that’s not to say that you always have to be happy. Maybe it’s enough to know that things will get better, even when it’s looking really shitty.

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cyclespeak
Looking back over your life to date, is it fair to say you’ve burnt bright in terms of a rich and diverse range of experience?

Chas
It’s one of the things that scares me the most. I’m very momentum driven and if a project is given a green light, I go. And I truly believe that saying yes has allowed me to live this life and have these experiences: I’ll buy the ticket and take the ride. One of the things that gives me a sense of pride about myself is that I will jump into a scary situation and just kind of work things out. But all of that predisposes that things keep happening. Because what’s the word they use about sailing?

[here Chas pauses]

The doldrums. That’s it. When the wind dies down, the waves flatten and you’re just stuck floating. And I guess your question hits particularly hard because I’m about to have ACL surgery—my first big injury in a decade of professional racing—which means I’ll be out for six to eight weeks. Longer than I’ve been down in my entire life. But it is what it is, and I’m excited to face that challenge. I’m not what you’d call a spiritual person—I’m not religious—but I do believe there are forces in life and things happen for a reason. And this injury is now part of my journey so let’s see where it will take me.

All photography with kind permission of Chas Christiansen / notchas.com

Two Together / Van life

February 17, 2025Posted in Conversation, Two TogetherTagged gravel, gravel bikes, Photography, van life1 Comment

Completing the purchase of the RV they would subsequently name Oatmeal, Cayla Green and Alex Roszko took their first tentative steps into van life. And now, after a number of extended trips combining both work and leisure, they sat down together to talk over their first year of ownership: both the rewards, and realities, of living life on the road.

cyclespeak
I know Alex from a previous story, Cayla, but it’s the first time we’ve met. So can I ask what keeps you busy when you’re not riding bikes?

Cayla
I’m a software engineer; working pretty much remotely since the pandemic. I guess I’m of that generation that never got the full 9-5 experience—for better or worse—and when I’m not working or hanging out with my little dog Navy Bean, I like to read and cook.

cyclespeak
I assume there’s also an element of homeworking with your career as a photographer, Alex? So are you both super disciplined or prone to getting distracted?

Alex
Given the nature of my work—that it’s freelance—if I have a deadline, then I will meet it. But if I don’t have anything to work on, I’ll just putz around, trying to talk to Cayla when it’s clear she’s focused on her own work project. So I think we work well together but maybe Cayla has a different take on things?

Cayla
Maybe I do [laughs]. And Alex is quite correct in that I focus very intensely when I’m coding. Almost oblivious to what’s going on around me.

cyclespeak
Before we get onto vans and van life, I feel it would be remiss of me not ask about your story as a couple?

Alex
We first met during the pandemic on some of the same rides. Nothing happened because we were both in relationships but a couple of years later, when I rolled up to the start line at Rule of Three—a race in Arkansas—who should I see but Cayla and her partner. But what I didn’t know, was that they’d actually ended their relationship but still wanted to ride the event together as friends. Over the course of the race I mentioned that I’d recently split up from my partner and I guess that was kind of it.

Cayla
It was such a funny reveal that we’d both gone through something so similar within a couple of months of each other.

cyclespeak
I believe it was actually on your first date that the notion of van ownership was first mentioned?

Alex
That was a few weeks after Rule of Three. We met up for coffee and talked about our respective breakups and what we were both looking for in the future. And as we both ticked off our mental checklists of more travel, more riding, more flexibility, it soon became apparent that we shared so much common ground in terms of the path we wanted to take. Which was both a kind of shock but also super exciting.

Cayla
One of us would reveal something, only to have the other say, “You’re kidding. Because that’s how I feel too.” So it was all kind of neat. And a little surprising. To the point of, “Did you read my journal?”

cyclespeak
Obviously stars were aligning.

Alex
I guess you could say so.

cyclespeak
So what function was your van meant to serve?

Alex
I’m going to go back a little to answer that. To my uncle who has built out vans for years. I can remember from my mid-teens all his different rigs. Whether that was a Volkswagen van or an old Chevy Blazer, they all represented freedom and easy access to the outdoors. So my thinking was the van would provide accommodation when I travel to a race, could double up as a mobile studio, and a space to unwind after long days spent shooting.

cyclespeak
And for you, Cayla?

Cayla
My parents, before I arrived, had an amazing time exploring the United States in a Winnebago. And I’ve always been a somewhat transient person; only ever living in the same place for 15 months at a time. So you combine my own desire to travel with the sense of claustrophobia during the pandemic, and my need for freedom became even more urgent.

cyclespeak
Can you describe the purchase process? Was it easy to navigate and did you have a shopping list of certain features?

Cayla
I do feel that one of the smartest things we did was rent a van before we started our own search in earnest. And when I say van, I’m talking about one of the more bare bones varieties. No toilet or indoor shower, 2WD, and a relatively small bed with very little storage. More as an exercise in understanding what we could—or couldn’t—live without. There’s some upfront cost—renting something online—but it was so worth it in terms of helping us figure out what really mattered.

cyclespeak
And how did that experiment work out?

Cayla
We drove down to where I was born in Corpus Christi, Texas, to visit family and spend some time with friends. That first night, we camped out on the beach and in the morning discovered we were stuck. So, straight away, we knew that 4WD is pretty much a necessity. And then, taking a shower outside in the wind, the shower curtain kept sticking to Alex’s skin so that was another lesson learnt.

Alex
Researching different van types, I had my own ideas of what I was looking for. Like I really wasn’t that fussed over an indoor shower but you soon start to reconsider when there’s a cold, wet shower curtain wrapped around you. I was freezing, it was miserable, and not something I wanted to experience on a regular basis. And it probably didn’t help that I was a little spoilt with what I’d been used to with my uncle’s builds.

Cayla
There were times when I was beginning to wonder whether we’d ever find one [laughs].

Alex
The search was all encompassing—Craigslist and eBay and all the individual builders—until we finally saw one that just seemed to tick all the boxes. We immediately called the vendor and booked a flight.

cyclespeak
How far are we talking about?

Alex
We flew into Atlanta, bought the van the next day, and then drove back to Austin the day after that.

cyclespeak
From the photos you posted, it looked in superb condition.

Alex
The van is a 2022 and the build was 2023. Owned by a wonderful guy called Bill who’d been planning a US tour with his wife but their circumstances had changed.

Cayla
He really wanted to meet us in person before completing the sale. And you hear stories about older people with a twinkle in their eye? I tried to negotiate the price with him but he just smiled and told me he appreciated the fact that I’d at least tried [laughs].

cyclespeak
Aside from buying a house, this must rank as one of the biggest purchases you’re ever likely to make?

Alex
We split it 50:50—something both of us had been saving for—so the van is co-owned with a contract. We’re not married, so it’s a case of two individuals owning one, very large piece of equipment.

Cayla
We hadn’t even reached the 12-month anniversary of our first date when we drove the van home.

Alex
I took inspiration—if that’s the right word—from the same uncle with all the van builds. He takes the view that if you want to do something—and can afford whatever you have planned— then you should do it as soon as you can. Because that opportunity or freedom to act might not arise anytime soon and what’s the harm in taking a risk and messing up? It’s just a thing and you can always sell it if circumstances change. But experiences and memories can last a lifetime.

cyclespeak
So how was that first trip and was there a learning curve?

Cayla
Our first big trip was to Sea Otter. And yes, there was definitely a learning curve [laughs]. Everything from finding the correct kind of fuel—not every gas station in the States has diesel—and very quickly discovering that cell service across continental North America can be patchy at best. So there were some panicky moments pulling into supermarket parking lots so I could connect to the Starbucks WiFi and finish a project.

cyclespeak
I guess remote working as a software engineer necessitates a certain level of connectivity. But aside from that, any other lessons learnt?

Cayla
Alex was very set on finding level ground—every time we parked up—but as soon as you start cooking an omelette in a pan and one half is twice the thickness of the other, these details very quickly become apparent. Sleeping too—on a slope—can be tricky when you wake up with your feet feeling super weird. So it wasn’t long before I came around to his way of thinking [smiles].

Alex
On that first big trip, we took ten days to travel to Monterey from Austin. You could make that same journey in three long days but our plan was to drive for only four hours a day, do some work and then go on a ride. But that requires you to move every day, which in turn presents you with a number of key decisions. Where are you driving, where are you stopping, where are you riding? Can you re-supply with groceries along the way, do you have a work call and will you have WiFi? Every day—over a ten-day trip—a brand new logistical operation. And, for me personally, that time at Sea Otter was the most intense work week I’ve ever experienced. Eleven shoots in six days with seven different brands. So the closer we got, the more my stress levels increased. And that meant my ability to make practical decisions was also impaired.

cyclespeak
So did you figure out a solution?

Cayla
Spontaneity is great when you’re not on the clock. But sometimes it’s just better to beeline there, set up camp and then, when you’ve finished up with work commitments, take your time and a circuitous route back home again.

Alex
And we now have Starlink which is an absolute game changer. Especially when we’re on the move and can both still work.

cyclespeak
You’re connected!

Cayla
We are indeed [laughs].

cyclespeak
So moving forward from these first experiences of travelling, what are the realities of van ownership?

Cayla
I’ve found that a little handheld vacuum cleaner really helps in keeping the van clean. My dog is pretty small but the amount of hair that she sheds is unbelievable. And then there’s understanding the value of a gallon of bleach. When you’re living—and showering—in a little box with very few windows, there’s a lot of humidity and it’s a constant effort to stop everything from going mouldy.

Alex
Even to the extent of adding a cap of bleach into our 25 gallon water tank to prevent it from going off. We’ve looked it up. We’re not crazy!

cyclespeak
That’s good to know [laughs].

Alex
My uncle calls this type of vehicle a slow car, fast house. And it’s true. You’re driving around and things rattle and bang. You have to do a flight check before setting off to make sure everything is closed on the outside and secure on the inside.

cyclespeak
And your sleeping arrangements?

Cayla
I sleep way better than I normally do. A feeling like I’m in my own little cave…

cyclespeak
Cocooned?

Cayla
Yes! Just like that. And my little dog also seems very settled because I think she can see everyone is right there.

Alex
We do play white noise because, depending on where you set up camp, there can be outside sounds that might keep you awake.

Cayla
And making the bed isn’t particularly easy in such a confined space [laughs].

cyclespeak
So what have been the biggest positives?

Alex
We get to travel together—next to each other—whilst still being able to work. And then, when we pull up at our next stop, we can go and ride our bikes. Or do yoga, or make dinner, or watch a movie. We get to spend quality time all over the place.

Cayla
What I love is the ability to just pull over at the historical markers that you see on the roads and highways. Not something you can do when taking a flight. These little blips of past events or locations that have a description. But that’s the nature of travelling by van. The way it encourages you to slow down and take things in.

Alex
We definitely drive slower and we’re also not afraid of stopping. If we spot a gravel road heading off from the highway, we can pull over, make some lunch and then go for a ride. It’s really cool to be free to do all those little things.

cyclespeak
Would you say there’s an emotional connection between yourselves and your van? Maybe how it feels to be behind the wheel or waking up to whatever view you’ve chosen?

Alex [looking towards Cayla]
Your face is saying something right now…

Cayla
I’m not sure if this answers your question but on one of our trips I went for a run where there wasn’t any cell service. I’d gone further than I would normally go and wasn’t one hundred percent sure where the van was parked. But when I crested the top of this little mountain, I could just about spy the van in the distance and had such a feeling of excitement that there was our home, coupled with this certain sense of safety. All I then had to figure out was how to get to it [laughs].

Alex
I agree. When I’m working and roll up after a shoot, I grab the handle and open the door and immediately start the process of unwinding after a busy day. On the flip side, when I leave the van for whatever reason, it’s hard to resist looking back and thinking nice. So there’s definitely some pride and a sense of joy that comes with van ownership.

cyclespeak
Any future van plans or is it just more of the same?

Alex
Not really any build plans…

Cayla
One little one…

Alex
The composting toilet?

Cayla
We’ve been looking into a different toilet purchase which is kind of exciting. And then we also…

cyclespeak
Can I just stop you there and rewind to the composting toilet? That sounds super interesting.

Cayla
Our current toilet—and I argued for this one so I take full responsibility—is like a space blanket inside a box. After you make a deposit, you push this button and it twists off and seals itself ready to be used again. Basically, a dry-flush toilet.

cyclespeak
I’ve seen something similar for disposing of dirty nappies. Or diapers as you’d call them.

Cayla
Exactly. And the problem is, that it does generate a lot of waste. It only has 17 or so flushes before the bag needs to be replaced and then there’s the question of what to do with the full bag?

cyclespeak
So a composting toilet?

Alex
It’s basically a chamber of peat moss together with a specific type of mulch. There’s a series of mechanical agitators that—once you’ve deposited your solid waste—you crank five times and that mixes everything up. There’s no smell and when the chamber is full, it honestly looks like common or garden dirt. It’s hard to believe there’s any human waste contained with the mixture.

cyclespeak
Living and travelling in what is a relatively small space, just out of curiosity has owning a van brought you closer together as a couple?

Alex
It’s given me the confidence to make large, complicated decisions with Cayla. Where I’m deficient, she excels and maybe…

Cayla
Vice versa.

Alex
I recognise her strengths in both the purchase process but also as an incredible planner in our subsequent trips. And then there’s this humbling awareness of how dirty I can be. I really wasn’t aware that I constantly drop crumbs whenever I eat. Or that I forget to take my shoes off when I climb into the van. So knowing that I have all these quirks and then spending time together living in such a small, confined space, I appreciate Cayla’s understanding and patience all the more.

Cayla
It’s just being aware of the silly, little things that are meaningful to each other. One of the most important things for Alex—that I didn’t initially understand—was having the best parking spot. Because I don’t particularly care. I’m happy sleeping next to a Walmart. Whereas Alex will decide to take this road that he’s spotted on Google Earth that will require us to select 4WD and might even have us getting out to push. But in the morning, when you wake up, it’s totally amazing!! So I’ve grown to understand that what might not be important to me is very important to Alex and I also end up reaping the benefits.

Alex
Which is why I mentioned how dirty I can be. Not because Cayla nags me about it but I notice how much time she spends vacuuming and that makes me want to try harder. We share this ten foot square space and it’s super important that we’re on the same page. And when people kindly say how much they like my van, I always stop them and point out that it’s ours.

All photography with kind permission of Alex and Cayla

Sami Sauri / Adventure more

December 23, 2024Posted in ConversationTagged across andes, girona, gravel, gravel bikes, gravel racing, Photography, rose bicycles, sami sauriLeave a comment

With the camera capturing Sami Sauri in a blur of motion—seemingly floating across the gravel surface—her broad smile perhaps belies the difficulties of a challenging year. But this second swing at Across Andes resulted in a remarkable podium finish that saw the year out in fine style with the promise of more adventures to come. A year that Sami—never shy of speaking openly about life’s ups and downs—recounts in her typically honest and humorous fashion.

Sami
Home again [smiles].

cyclespeak
With a collection of hats hanging up on the wall.

Sami
It’s getting bigger. That one [pointing to a broad-brimmed hat] I brought back from Chile.

cyclespeak
How’s the weather in Chamonix?

Sami
Today is nice and sunny and it’s all white outside.

[here Sami stops, turns and starts talking off camera]

As you can see, I have a dog now. He wants to say hello [laughs].

cyclespeak
What’s he called?

Sami
Captain. And it’s been really fun even though he’s only 10 months old and a bit cheeky sometimes.

cyclespeak
A little like a toddler?

Sami
Maybe more of a teenager [smiles]. Crying as if he wants to go to the toilet but really just wanting to play outside. But he’s worth it because he brings so much happiness.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Looking back to the last time we spoke, you were planning to smash out the Festive 500 in one go. But then decided to split the distance over 3 or 4 beautiful days. Would you have made that same, confident decision a few years ago?

Sami
That’s an interesting question. And I don’t think so because, back then, in many ways I was a completely different person.

cyclespeak
With maybe more of a focus on numbers whereas now it’s about enjoying the experience?

Sami
And discovering new places. That’s a cool thing to do.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Before travelling back out to the desert to photograph the Dakar Rally, January saw you on a snowy camp out in the roof tent of your 4×4 truck.

Sami
I got that particular vehicle rather than a regular car because it makes it so much easier to scout a shoot or follow a gravel race. And it made a huge difference having a 4×4 when I was at the Traka with all the rain. But the night you mentioned was pretty cold [laughs].

cyclespeak
You then spent 22 days embedded in a Dakar Rally team. How was it a second time around?

Sami
Dakar is a weird one because it’s such an amazing experience but dealing with the race organisers is so tricky. It’s super expensive for the teams to have an accredited media team but then I ended up having so many fights with the officials over where on the course I could shoot. It got to the stage where I would leave my tracker on the side of the road and then head off into the desert—walking for fucking miles—to get my shots.

cyclespeak
So the process took some navigating?

Sami
It was a bit of a shit show. But by the end, I’d been fighting so much that they decided to put me into one of their media cars [laughs].

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Travelling back from the heat of the desert to snow covered Alpine peaks, you were faced with problems of where to live. And I remember you posting a very poignant picture of all your belongings piled up in a temporary garage space. I imagine a very difficult time?

Sami
The guys I was living with, they’d only told me the day before I left for Dakar that I had to leave. They were my best friends—I walked their kids to school—and it wasn’t something that I could see coming. And looking back, that breakup was harder than with a boyfriend.

cyclespeak
That sounds like a lot to contend with?

Sami
I decided to just put everything in a garage and figure out the rest later. I had some work lined up but there were also worries about my sponsors and I remember considering whether to take a full-time job. And it took over a month to find this place in Chamonix which was also very lucky because a friend of mine was living here previously and she reached out to me to say she was moving.

cyclespeak
It all sounds super stressful.

Sami
It was. But living here has been amazing. It’s small but there’s a garden at the front and I get to see Mont Blanc everyday when I wake up.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
That sounds so cool. And talking of home, in early Spring you spent some time in Girona where you’d lived for four years before moving to the French Alps. How did it feel to be back?

Sami
It was actually a bit overwhelming. Girona has changed a lot and although there’s still the pro racing aspect, there’s also a lot of focus on gravel influencers. So a lot of the talk at cafés is about watts and kilometres. Not to say there’s anything wrong with that but I just prefer to talk about different things.

cyclespeak
You posted a lovely set of shots from a carnival-themed ride with the @girona_gravelgirls. It looked like a super fun day?

Sami
Oh my God. As a community, they’ve grown so much. But I guess it helps that they’re based in one particular location and they welcome whoever wants to ride. It doesn’t matter what bike you turn up on, what clothes you wear, or if you’re new to cycling. It’s so much fun because everyone respects each other.

cyclespeak
You decided not to race Santa Vall—part of the Gravel Earth series—choosing instead to photograph the event. And then you posted a fascinating viewpoint on the way brands value photographers monetarily and how individuals offering to work for free is maybe undermining the whole creative industry. Can you talk me through your take on these thoughts and ideas?

Sami
I’d applied for media accreditation and put together a package to create content for individual athletes and brands that was priced accordingly. But you also get people just showing up, working for free, and sharing their images with the athletes who then pass them on to their sponsors. Which is kind of why the industry is going to shit. Because if we all did that, why would brands be bothered to pay professionals? Professionals who’ve been working their asses off for a decade or two, perfecting their craft.

cyclespeak
So how can we make positive changes?

Sami
I think the race organisers have to play a part and maybe we need some honest, open conversations? I’m probably a little more expensive than others because I’ve been doing this for a long time. So now, if I want to work, I want to work properly and get paid a fair amount. Because who can afford to live on a day rate of €130 which is what someone told me they were asking for? You’ve got to be fucking crazy.

cyclespeak
I guess if you want quality content—captured by experienced professionals—then that comes with a cost.

Sami
And if you undervalue yourself now, you’ll be doing it for the rest of your career. In the same way that if you work for any company and never ask for a pay rise. They’re not going to do it for you.

cyclespeak
Imagine the response you’d get from people doing regular jobs if you asked whether they’d be willing to work for free?

Sami
Exactly. It’s down to each individual to make their own journey and find their own path. And I’m also very aware that my situation is a little unique; in that I create content but also have my athlete and ambassador roles. And sometimes I do worry whether I’m being too open and honest about things [smiles].

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
June saw you back in Emporia, Kansas, for Unbound. And you got a simply awesome shot of Rosa Klöser immediately after she won the 9-up sprint. A happy, tiring, emotional kind of day?

Sami
It was a little strange because I was thinking of racing the Unbound XL this year. A feeling that I should be back in front of the camera instead of behind. But I had 14 riders to document which is a lot [laughs].

cyclespeak
You shared some images shot on film from Unbound. A medium you enjoy using?

Sami
Yes. Especially at races. There’s something about the images that’s so hard to replicate using digital. And it’s a completely different process; not being able to see or change whatever you’ve captured. But I do sometimes wonder if my generation will be the last to shoot on film. Whether it will gradually die away?

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Another summer development was your new bike sponsor, Rose, which you immediately got to test out on the Cheese Divide.

Sami
We wanted to do the Italy Divide but that involves a shit show of hike-a-bike. And I have this tea towel that I got in Italy that shows all the different cheese regions, so we used that as a map instead.

cyclespeak
So how many different cheeses did you taste?

Sami
Not as many as you might think [laughs]. Because it was super hot—40℃ by midday—and all I really wanted to eat was ice cream. So maybe we overestimated our appetite for cheese but the scenery was so beautiful.

cyclespeak
In September you rolled out at 4:00am to ride your Tour du Mont Blanc: 322 km and 7949 m of vertical. A big day?

Sami
It was a massive day [laughs].

cyclespeak
One that you enjoyed or was it a challenge to be completed?

Sami
Oh no. I had a blast. Because it’s probably six years since I’ve had a road bike and by the time I was climbing my third col of the day, I was an hour and a half ahead of schedule.

cyclespeak
You were flying.

Sami
I was. Which I paid for later on in the day [smiles]. But I had a goal of finishing in 18 hours and I pushed hard at the end to come in at just over 17 hours.

cyclespeak
So you still have a competitive edge?

Sami
I do!!

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
You’ve seen the year out with another go at the unsupported gravel race Across Andes where you finished an amazing second place. From your posts, you seemed very at home in Chile?

Sami
There’s just something about Chile. So many possible projects that I’d be really happy to do. You’ve got the wildness of the land but also cool cities like Santiago. It just blows my mind.

cyclespeak
And the people?

Sami
They just seem so comfortable in expressing their feelings—so much affection and love—and I’ve even thought of moving out there at some point. Maybe to retire [laughs].

cyclespeak
According to your Strava feed, you rode just shy of 44,000 km in 58 hr. That’s pretty impressive.

Sami
I know [laughs]. The ride file got corrupted but I’m still hoping to fix it.

cyclespeak
It’s such a gruelling event where you’re balancing the mental and physical demands of sleep deprivation, fuelling, and the sometimes extreme weather. So I was wondering what keeps you going?

Sami
For that race in particular, it was carrying my camera. The route is so beautiful and changing all the time. And that gave me the motivation to keep going, to keep seeing what was next, and record it along the way.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
You recently posted on Instagram about a new chapter in your riding life: #adventuremore.

Sami
Across Andes was a pilot for Adventure More. Basically documenting races from within with a focus on the community and culture that surround a particular event. Rather than just posting a couple of race shots and a result—which is absolutely fine—I want to go a bit deeper.

cyclespeak
You end your Across Andes recap by referencing what a hard year it’s been for a lot of reasons. So has 2024 changed you? Have you learnt anything new or surprising about yourself?

Sami
Lots of things [laughs]. Where do I start?

cyclespeak
Wherever you feel comfortable in starting?

Sami
To maybe understand the need for patience? Because I’ve still got so much growing to do. And even though it has been a tough year and, at times, I’ve doubted myself, if you keep moving forward with a smile on your face, then good things can happen.

Photography with kind permission of Sami Sauri (credited individually) / samisauri.com

Feature image with grateful thanks to Jeremy Toro

Dan Craven / Top Class Bicycles

November 25, 2024Posted in ConversationTagged dan craven, gravel, gravel bikes, onguza bicyclesLeave a comment

Dan Craven is taking our call from the Onguza factory office in Omaruru, Namibia. On the wall hangs a bike frame next to a notice board covered in numbered lists. A wooden cabinet and shelves complete the scene; all bearing the usual paraphernalia of a busy workshop environment. Wearing his hair long and with his signature specs, Dan is as eloquent as ever and still prone to conversational tangents that weave in and around my prepared questions. Everything is as it should be and little has changed since we last spoke just shy of two years ago.

Dan, however, has been busy. His fabrication team that originally comprised Petrus Mufenge and Sakaria Nkolo—now senior builders with equity in the company—has grown to embrace Sakeus Mufenge and Tilomwene Mundjele. The factory’s newly constructed in-house paint booth is presided over by Elvis Presley Sageus [yes, you read that right] and the Onguza range now boasts a hardtail to complement gravel and road-plus framesets.

Describing these hard-won successes in his softly spoken fashion—and with a nod to some of the struggles—Dan takes us on a journey that embraces family life and his own memories from childhood, the design decisions that have him grinning from ear to ear, and why, ultimately, sharing stories lies at the heart of his own journey with Onguza.

cyclespeak
This is a very different view from the last time we spoke. You were sitting on your living room floor and your little boy came in and was staring at the camera.

Dan
We’ve moved twice since then. First just across the road and then to a different town by the coast. Basically the factory reached a point where I wasn’t needed to be present five days a week. So now I commute the 250 kilometres, spend a couple of nights here at the factory, and then go back to the family where I can continue my office work and things like that.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Since the pandemic, lots of people seem to have adopted a hybrid way of working.

Dan
You know, you’re probably right. It’s a very modern way of doing things. But it also suits our lifestyles. The kids are settled in school, my wife Collyn is happier, so it was just this resounding yes.

cyclespeak
And you get to focus fully on being both the founder of a bike brand and a hands-on dad?

Dan
Last night I shut down at five o’clock. Today, I’m going to keep on working until all hours with zero interruptions. So, yes, there are efficiencies. I’m not going to be distracted by little footsteps. Which would be fun but not exactly conducive to getting everything done.

cyclespeak
Have you noticed any similarities between how your children are growing up and your own memories from childhood?

Dan
I don’t think we would have moved back to Namibia and undertaken this life if my wife and I didn’t have children. Because it’s such an amazing place for a child to grow up. And it’s funny that whenever we visit Girona and go to a playground, my kids immediately take off their shoes. All of the Spanish parents are super polite but I can see how puzzled they are. Whereas here in Namibia, my kids will go to the supermarket barefoot. In the West that might come across as a sign of poverty; here it’s more of a laid-back lifestyle. There’s no sense of shock and horror when you see it.

cyclespeak
Are you also more connected to wildlife?

Dan
I believe that Mongolia is the only country in the world that’s more sparsely inhabited than Namibia. And you certainly grow up with nature. You know, bugs and snakes are commonplace. And then you drive out of town and see antelope. Drive a bit further and you see elephants and rhino. And not like in a zoo; just absolutely open and wild. So yes, there’s a connection with nature which when you’re a teenager is absolutely boring. I remember [laughs]. But luckily I’ve grown to value the sense of freedom we now enjoy.

cyclespeak
So you’re at the factory but it all sounds very quiet?

Dan
The factory team start early and then finish their day at 4:00 in the afternoon.

cyclespeak
Because you’ve been busy since we last spoke. You were still in the process of developing a hardtail to add to your range of bikes but it wasn’t a reality. But now it is.

Dan
You have to start by asking, what do you want to make? And, yes, it would be amazing to one day offer a full suspension mountain bike but you’ve got to factor in all the time and effort it would take to design and get the linkages right. It’s not that we can’t build a full suspension mountain bike but a hardtail is a bike we all love, that we can do really well immediately, and our crew is one hundred percent in command of.

cyclespeak
I’m reminded of your website’s home page where it states: ‘We know what bikes need to do, we’ve got lions’.

Dan
I guess you could say that the bikes we offer reflect not only where we are as a company but also where we are geographically. Our Holy Fire frameset, for example, is designed as a road-plus bike because the last thing I want to do is go out on super skinny tyres. I want all-day comfort with the option of taking that little gravel detour if the mood takes me.

cyclespeak
And you combine all that with a dialled-in fit?

Dan
The beauty of building a bike where every frame is custom geometry—which is what we do—is that we’re designing around what the customer wants and what the customer needs. My initial take was that everyone in the World Tour rides a stock geometry bike; that was my path and past experience. And I understand that 99% of our customers would also fit on a standard geometry bike. But how many of them would have three centimetres of spacers underneath the stem, or their saddle slammed all the way forward or all the way back. Granted, not major things, but we’re operating within a niche of a niche of a niche and want everything to be just so.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
I remember you talking about staring down this supply chain where whatever you ordered—tubing, wheels, components—needed to travel thousands of miles to reach you in Namibia. And I was wondering whether these concerns have eased or are they still keeping you awake at night?

Dan
It’s a weird mix. Still sort of keeping me awake at night but if I think back to two years ago, my goodness, we have come a long way.

cyclespeak
So what’s changed?

Dan
The vast majority of my peers in the frame building world buy their parts from local suppliers. And they might only order the parts for one or two bikes because that’s all they need and that helps to manage their cash flow. Whereas for us, if we were to order one or two bikes at a time, the shipping on that would kill us.

cyclespeak
How are you getting around this?

Dan
Our relatively tiny company is acting like a much bigger company and going direct to the manufacturers and buying the smallest version of a bulk order that you can actually classify as a bulk order. Yes, it’s a little stressful when we pay for that shipment but then we don’t have to think about it again for a handful of months.

cyclespeak
I like that. It’s kind of scrappy. Just getting it done?

Dan
I guess it comes down to our mindset. A lot of people, looking to purchase a new bicycle, are probably not going to even think about us. But if you yearn for something that’s handmade, that’s custom, that has a real story to it; then I truly believe that what we offer is really quite special.

cyclespeak
I find this fascinating, and if you’ll allow me, I’m going to address the fact that your frames are not inexpensive. And there is, I think, maybe a certain level of unconscious bias regarding the story of Onguza and how Petrus and Sakaria were working on the farm before they were trained in bicycle frame fabrication and some people can’t get beyond that. Whereas I see all those things as positives and a reason to connect with your brand?

Dan
So, I love the question and the answer is that fundamentally it depends on what’s important to you. Because our frames, from a price point, are generally in line with a Specialized S-Works. And anything in that price range, you need people to say, “I want that.”

cyclespeak
And can you categorise what that is?

Dan
Every year, the big brands bring out a new model that’s lighter, stiffer and more aerodynamic. And for some people, all those numbers are really important and the reason why they change their bikes every year or so. And that’s absolutely fine because sometimes I want the new flashy thing.

cyclespeak
So where does Onguza sit?

Dan
Well, there’s a certain type of individual who wants a bicycle to mean something on an emotional level, a bicycle they are really proud of and gives them a vested interest in keeping it long term. A bicycle that in three, five, ten years from now, is not going to look outdated because fashions have changed. I think it’s a subtle but very different mindset. Because, yes, our bikes weigh a little bit more than a corresponding carbon model. And if that’s your most important metric, then a steel bicycle is not for you. But if you want a bicycle that will probably be more comfortable, definitely more durable, and have a story that resonates in ways that no bicycle has ever resonated with you before, then I see that as a good basis for us sitting down and starting a conversation.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Is paint an important part of this process?

Dan
Pretty important considering we built up our own paint booth at the beginning of the year which is where our painter, Elvis Presley Sageus, works his magic. So moving forward, every one of our frames gets painted in-house under our watchful eye.

cyclespeak
You launched Onguza with some pretty iconic visual designs.

Dan
Those were bold, eye-catching statements that were designed to stand out. And we’re now onto our third edition colour schemes which are a little more sleek and I would go so far as to say timeless, while still maintaining the funky cow look integrated into the design. And what’s so special about all these parts of the build process, is that when I’m showing someone one of our bikes, there’s a serial number underneath with the initials of the guys who actually made it. And you know that the guy who painted the bike is called Elvis Presley.

cyclespeak
So there’s this connection with the bike you’re riding and its provenance?

Dan
I just think it’s something that we should be doing more of. Buying fewer but better quality, longer lasting things, that mean more to us.

cyclespeak
A case of buy well, buy once?

Dan
Yes, exactly.

cyclespeak
Can I ask how many of your customers enquire about collecting their frame or bike directly from the factory?

Dan
It’s interesting that you ask because we recently had a visit from five gentlemen who had travelled all the way down to Namibia from Spain. One of them was collecting his new bike, two of them rented Onguzas, and the remaining two brought bikes of their own. And we made a lovely little film of the whole experience.

cyclespeak
So it’s a possibility?

Dan
It most definitely is and why we’ve just announced that from 2025 we’ll be hosting bespoke cycling adventures that offer a truly once-in-a-lifetime experience. So say someone wants to buy a bicycle and bring their friends along on the trip to collect it, we can arrange a wonderful tour for them to enjoy.

cyclespeak
We’ve already explored the reasons that people want to buy into your brand. But can I suggest that you, yourself, are as much a part of that decision process as the beautiful bikes you build? That you are a part of their story?

Dan
It’s interesting you mention stories because when I was a professional bike racer, I was quite prolific on Instagram. I knew who I was, I had a voice, and posting on Instagram was fun and interesting because I had a very different perspective to all of my peers. And then I retired and I lost my voice. I still enjoyed riding my bicycle, I still enjoyed all of those adventures, but I wasn’t a professional anymore and my online voice disappeared because I didn’t know who I was in the world.

cyclespeak
And now?

Dan
My wife has basically kicked me so many times to try to get me to use my voice again. And I do feel like it’s coming.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Can you pinpoint what was stopping you?

Dan
I suppose I stepped into this new thing where there was so much to learn and I was overwhelmed. Which you could argue is a little surprising as there are so many stories to tell—being a Namibian who is building bicycles in Africa—but I had this insecurity that made me not want to post. Which is me completely and utterly overthinking things because there’s so much to share and celebrate.

cyclespeak
So is your current sense of who you are now defined by your journey with Onguza and the community you’re building?

Dan
Community is key to what we’re doing here with Onguza. Not only the highly skilled jobs we’re providing—which is obviously quite wonderful—but in events like the Loskop Local which we host in July. We all gather on Friday night for an amazing meal and then, on Saturday morning, we start at the factory and cycle out of town into the bush. Climbing steadily, you get this amazing view down to the valley before stopping for a cup of coffee from Two Beards, the best coffee roasters in Namibia. Then there’s a choice of four loops to ride—the longest loop taking possibly an hour—with surprises on the trails to make things interesting.

cyclespeak
Surprises?

Dan
A bathtub beer stop? A church choir in full song?

cyclespeak
Yes, that would certainly surprise me [smiles].

Dan
And then later, when you’re back to town, you have another amazing meal followed by my wife’s handmade ice cream and live music that goes on into the evening.

cyclespeak
Picturing all this reminds me of the beautiful film Ben Ingham directed that combines scenes in your factory with shots of the local people and the most breathtaking scenery. Does the film’s title ‘Made Out Here’ offer a clue to the way you do things with Onguza?

Dan
Let me use this as one tiny example.

[Dan reaches for a small cardboard box and takes out a shiny piece of metal]

We have a guy in California who’s helped us design dropouts which are now being machined in Namibia. We imported the previous version but these are our design and our design only and another step forward in our way of making things. Perhaps a small detail but does it make the bike more of an Onguza…

cyclespeak
And give the bicycle more character?

Dan
Yes, one hundred percent.

cyclespeak
This journey you describe in growing Onguza, have you learnt anything about yourself that’s surprised you or caught you off guard?

Dan
There was a sports conference in Omaruru last week with people from the Sports Ministry and other assorted guests. I’d been invited to speak and planned to talk about the longevity of an athlete. The what-comes-next when you retire from competition. I’d been thinking about what to say for ages and then on the morning of the event I had this sort of epiphany.

cyclespeak
Which was?

Dan
If you think about it, I was more of a mountain climber trying to do the first ascent of a peak than I was a professional cyclist.

cyclespeak
You’ll need to explain that a little more [smiles].

Dan
A professional cyclist is supposed to eat, sleep, race, train, rest and repeat. There’s a sort of monotonous aspect to it. Whereas I came from this little town on the edge of the desert in Namibia where the cycling community in my capital city was really, really small and disconnected from the wider world.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
And then?

Dan
Then I went to race overseas and for four years I was living in the backyard of a scrap metal yard. We’d be eating dinner on the second floor and a big crane would literally pass to and fro in front of our window. Even so, I was living the dream because we’d go to the races and the previous winners would be Damiano Cunego, Gilberto Simoni and Mario Cipollini. Heaven!

cyclespeak
I’m sensing a but.

Dan
I was surrounded by a support system that wasn’t a support system. And what do I mean by this? Well, there was a Polish rider and myself who were leaps and bounds better than the third best rider on the team. But I was the seventh best paid rider. And why was that, you may ask? Because all of the Swiss and Italian guys had their parents, their coaches, their clubs, looking after them. Me? I was on my own.

cyclespeak
Wish I guess was frustrating and I imagine a little lonely?

Dan
Exactly. And from there I went to the UK and I was in Manchester where it rained every day. I was doing races with one man and his dog watching but I was surrounded by people and culture and as a human being I flourished. But by the time I got to the World Tour riding for Europcar, I was having too many injury issues and never really got to properly show what I could do. So, returning to my mountain analogy, professionally speaking I was always climbing over rocks, jumping across crevices, and finding a new path to the peak. Which is obviously athletic and very arduous and I think part of my personality now. And isn’t starting a bicycle company in a small town with no pre-existing cycling community something a mountain climber would do?

cyclespeak
Taking all of these themes—work, family, living in a land that has such a hold on you—what at the moment is making your heart sing?

Dan
We finally got around to building my wife a gravel bike and together we rode up Table Mountain. We were looking out over the bay when my wife turned to me and said: “This bike is amazing.” And it just hit me, that here we were, having this incredible time, on bikes that our little company on the edge of the desert had built. And it was like, oh, that is pretty amazing.

All photography by Ben Ingham with kind permission of Dan Craven and Onguza Bicycles

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