Category: Conversation

Ronnie & Arya / Alt Bike NOW!

Posted in Conversation, Two TogetherTagged , , , , Leave a comment

“Reporting live from the beating heart of Nutmeg Country…
Cable actuated and opinionated…
This is Alt Bike NOW!”

As self-styled skipper and first mate of Rons Bikes Dot Com, Ronnie and Arya’s gently tongue-in-cheek take on what’s hot or not in bikes and bike riding is now served up as a weekly slice with their very own podcast Alt Bike NOW!

With subjects ranging from World Tour racing to real-life ride reports, what’s in Ronnie’s bike stand, and a regular swipe at whatever’s making them mad; this hour-long insight into the couple’s psyche—complete with homegrown sound effects and background birdsong—is an auditory delight.

Taking time out to discuss the life they’ve built together—from advice on first dates to cycling cosplay and the entanglements of entrepreneurship—Ronnie and Arya offer up a conversationally candid and laugh-out-loud window into their world.

cyclespeak
It’s lovely to see you both.

Arya
It’s lovely to be seen.

cyclespeak
You’re back from Portland, Arya?

Ayra
I got back last week. And then this morning, I hadn’t had my second cup of tea so wasn’t sure if I was pepped up enough to talk. But I’m glad I am.

cyclespeak
Well it’s so nice that you feel suitably pepped because it’s early for you and a little later for me. Which prompts me to ask, when you’re home in Nutmeg Country, whether there’s a regular rhythm, a routine, to your day?

Arya
It’s different for both of us. Ronnie likes a routine but I’m the agent of chaos.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Are these roles by choice or inclination?

Ronnie
I believe we were both drawn together, in the beginning, because of those differing constitutions. Back then, my responsibilities were a lot less responsible. And I guess we were both looking for someone who didn’t take life too seriously.

Arya
That’s certainly true.

Ronnie
So we found one another and discovered we had similar brain chemistry.

Arya
We’re always on the lookout for new things to stimulate our thinking. So we get fascinated with one thing or another for a little bit and then move on to the next.

cyclespeak
What did the first moment you met look like?

Ronnie
We started dating 14 years ago this October. I was splitting my time between travelling a lot on my bike and working for my father as first mate on his charter fishing boat. Every winter I would head off on a bike tour and gradually grew to realise how inexpensively I could live. It was the early days of Instagram and I’d grown a bit of a following; which helped when I was selling the t-shirts I’d designed and the little wooden pipes that I whittled. And then one fall—running out of money—I’d come back home and went over to my friend Troy’s house. Arya was there…

Arya
You forgot to mention that your mother had said how you looked in pretty rough shape and it was time to come home. Which wasn’t too far from the reason why I’d also gone home after being a full-time climate change and social justice activist and getting a little burnt out. 


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
So you first set eyes on each other at Troy’s house?

Arya
But I wasn’t that interested in him when we were chatting over the kitchen table. Probably because he had this other friend that I was trying to pick up. But Ronnie just kept on interjecting, asking questions, and generally being very charming. So I guess he won.

Ronnie
Arya was over at Troy’s to borrow a bike so we just bonded over bicycles almost immediately.

cyclespeak
I can remember a conversation with some of my wife’s female friends when I was shot down in flames for suggesting a gentle bike ride would make a perfect first date.

Ronnie
Our first actual date was just that. We arranged to meet up at the beach near where I grew up and Arya rode over from Old Saybrook—which is about 15 miles away—just to see me. I was waiting at the entrance to the beach, picking wild berries, when she rolled in.

Arya
It’s funny to look back at it now but that was a long bike ride with three big hills. But Ronnie has really nice legs so I figured it was worth it. So maybe you can tell your wife’s friends that you need to get someone a little bit spicy…

Ronnie
The shorter the shorts, the better.

cyclespeak
And when Arya arrived for your date?

Ronnie
We went on the beach with our bikes and kind of cruised around. It was a beautiful, unseasonably warm October day…

Arya
And we’d both gone to the same beach as children.

Ronnie
It was low water so we crossed over to this little island.

Arya
I think we got a ticket for trespassing.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Home very often features in your highly entertaining videos, Ronnie. And references frequently crop up on your Alt Bike NOW! podcast. But for a number of years you both lived on the road, crossing the country by bike. So what forms your sense of home? Is it a place, possessions, people, a certain way of living a life?

Arya
That’s a really deep question. And for me, I feel it’s very different as an immigrant and a refugee to understand what home means. For Ronnie, it’s a little bit easier. His family has lived in New England for nine generations. But it was something I used to ask myself when we were bike touring at the start of our relationship.

cyclespeak
And at this point in your life together?

Arya
My family emigrated to Connecticut with this promise of a safe landing and the American dream. As I got older, I wanted to explore and see what else was out there but I just kept on coming back. And I guess what I love about this place in Nutmeg Country is that it holds all the people that I care deeply about and all of my stuff. I know these roads, I know the seasons, the climate and the weather. So home is just that. The knowing.

cyclespeak
And you, Ronnie?

Ronnie
Like Arya said, I’ve got nine generations going way back. And growing up here, you don’t think anything of it. Just a boring place…

Arya
Filled with old people…

Ronnie
And it still is.

Arya
But now we’re the old people.

Ronnie
[Laughs] I guess we are. So I left here in 1998 to go to college in Durango, Colorado. Kind of sight unseen—back then you only needed the bare bottom of SAT scores to get in—but knowing that I wanted to be in those mountains riding my bike. And it wasn’t really until I moved to Austin, Texas, right after graduating, that I got more into road riding and began to understand how good I’d had it back in Connecticut: these quiet, quaint, bucolic settings we have in New England. But it wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I once again viewed this place as somewhere to settle. And now we live with a big part of Arya’s family and have our nephews close by. So I guess our priorities have definitely shifted. Which means I couldn’t be happier that we call this place home.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
I was thinking over your respective professional lives and wondered whether, rather than simply asking a direct question, if you could describe each other’s responsibilities?

Arya
So we run Rons Bikes Dot Com which is the online store for all of Ronnie’s creations and the things that we collaborate on together. It started out as a silly little thing—more than a decade ago—when I would put lipstick on Ronnie and get him to kiss the envelopes and packages that we were sending out because he’s the romance. But what Ronnie does now for Rons Bikes is to create things in the bike world that he really likes and satisfy his own sense of taste. He has really strong opinions on what works and what doesn’t. And I am truly a disciple of Ron’s biblical canon even though it does take up a lot of barn space.

cyclespeak
So what does that look like on a day-to-day basis?

Arya
Ron is responsible for all the communication and media. He takes all of the gorgeous photographs of not only the products but our lifestyle out here in Nutmeg Country. He’s basically the forward facing aspect of our brand: bikes, bags, and all those little accessories that make life so much easier…

Ronnie
And shoes…

Arya
And shoes too because Ronnie has really long, narrow feet and I have very small, wide, hobbit feet…

Arya turns to Ronnie

So what do I do?

Ronnie
You are the backend person.

Arya
Ron’s backside [laughs].

Ronnie
Which means Arya handles the purchase orders and spreadsheet stuff. But I always consult her before ordering colour ways because I respect her sense of style. And Arya also had the great idea to start our own Alt Bike NOW! podcast. She’s way more connected with the pop culture world—not that we’re particularly looking for trends or anything—and she’s the best model there’s ever been. When she lets me take photos of her, that is…

Arya
It can get a little much.


Click an image to open gallery

Ronnie
And when I need photos taken of myself, Arya’s behind the camera doing that.

Arya
It’s pretty much left hand, right hand. Because it’s just the two of us.

cyclespeak
You both live very beautiful but possibly unconventional lives. So do you, in effect, go to work and then, by closing a door, come home again? Or do the lines between work, home, the two of you as a couple, ever become blurred?

Ronnie
There’s definitely some blurring.

Arya
It’s kind of a tangle.

Ronnie
As we’ve mentioned, I do like to start work right after my morning coffee. Which averages out—between occasional dips in our swim hole—as eight hour days. Whether that’s emails, a lot of customer communication, placing orders, designing our products, working on bike builds—I like to put a lid on it right around four or five o’clock when I’ll go off on my daily bike ride. Whereas Arya prefers to start a little later…

Arya
I like to read in the morning which oftentimes means I get carried away with my book. But to address the tangled reference, I think we do have a problem with work and play being so interconnected.

Ronnie
We’ll go for a bike ride together but I’ll want to take a bunch of photos because to me that’s never work.

Arya
But I’ve got to get the socks on and the cap and that all gets in the way of me just jumping on the bike and riding. Which I guess is why I do a lot of solo rides if I just want to see things at my own pace. That way I’m free to get distracted by a flower and linger for a while.

Ronnie
Your rides are way more for you. Whereas I’ve always shared my rides. Something I’ve done since high school.

Arya
I guess everything we’ve built and the decisions we’ve made so far have been together. So maybe it’s an intentional tangling. Which feels…

Ronnie
Normal to us but probably weird to other folks. Not that I can imagine any other way for us—this is the fish bowl we’ve been swimming in—but it definitely has its challenges too.

Arya
I think we’ve got pretty good at talking about things.

Ronnie
We should be experts by now [laughs].


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
One of the tag lines for your wonderfully conceived podcast Alt Bike NOW! is cable actuated discussion. But does that extend to every aspect of your life together? Are you churning butter by hand, cooking over a range?

Ronnie
We’re not Luddites [laughs]. You can’t be so rigid in your life that you’re not using modern conveniences. And I’ve learnt to bend and sway with that over the years.

Ayra
You’re building an eTap bike for your Mom.

Ronnie
But it does have rim brakes.

cyclespeak
Because hydraulic disc brakes would be a step too far?

Ronnie
Exactly. And our reference on the podcast to cable actuated is a nice nod to the simplicity of the bicycle. Which, in turn, acts as a metaphor for life. Because there are certain modern things that are awesome and some modern things that just suck. I guess it’s up to the individual to decide what those are.

cyclespeak
So where does social media sit on this spectrum of awesomeness to just sucking?

Ronnie
The irony is that without these social media platforms, where would we be in a business sense? I went to college to become a gym teacher. And that’s most likely what I’d be doing; getting paid $30,000 a year to get basketballs thrown at my head. But the way we actually make a living would have been unimaginable back then—when I was going to my high school guidance counsellor—because stuff like this simply didn’t exist.

cyclespeak
So on balance?

Ronnie
We get to make our own schedule each and every day, and live a pretty footloose and fancy free lifestyle. So that part of it is awesome and it would be hard to give that up.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
And you, Arya? What’s your take on the complexities of modern living?

Arya
My attraction to the way we were—back in the day— is that I’m only one generation removed from living off the land. Both of my parents were farmers in Tibet, so that life—you pull a lever and that moves something—is a little bit closer for me. The eye’s ability to see what is happening allows you to fix things more easily. Not that we’re against new technology but we’re so strong on cable actuated because it’s what we know. Or what Ronnie knows when it comes to bikes.

Ronnie
It’s nice to know how something works. I can see a cable move but Bluetooth?

Arya
No idea [laughs].

cyclespeak
You both, very playfully, comment on aspects of cycling style and custom. And I was talking to John Watson of The Radavist about how all the boys and girls wearing Pas Normal self-identify with that brand—cycling is nothing if not tribal—but take a look at photos from your own Nutmeg Nor’easter and there’s a lot of metal bidons, bar bags, and Brooks saddles with bits and bobs dangling from them. So my question to you both is, are you happy to be tongue-in-cheek arbiters of taste? And whether you reflect or actually determine cycling fashion and trends?

Ronnie
I think it would be silly not to acknowledge that we influence cycling fashion and trends. But I try not to be…what’s the word…

Arya
Cult leader?

Ronnie
Perhaps not [laughs]. But I’ve always been a trend setter for as long as I can remember and there’s definitely a leadership persona about me. Which is why the word cult was going to crop up sooner or later. But I feel so passionate about bicycles because it was something I latched onto early in life. And that authenticity is what people connect with and perhaps explains why people choose to wear a leather chamois with woollen underwear and have all their bits and bobs dangling off their saddle. Especially if they’re getting tired of checking heart rate and power meter readings. Which is why what we do—out having fun in the woods, smoking weed, eating pizza—might have its attractions.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
I guess cycling is about choosing your tribe?

Ronnie
But that’s not to say we look down on other forms of bike riding. Over my 35 years of serious riding I’ve been the Pas Normal person. In 2005 I was wearing all Assos stuff. So looking at all the fads and trends, I feel like what I like to promote is holistic cycling. There’s room for all of it and it’s really fun to cosplay in all the different ways that you can on a bicycle. Because you’re putting yourself on display, it’s a fashion show, and don’t think of it as anything less. Have some self respect [smiles]

Arya
And a strong stance on ankle socks.

Ronnie
Absolutely. Because I love all that stuff. It’s culture and we should be celebrating rather than putting it down. Which is why the only scenes we do put down are triathlon and modern mountain biking [laughs].

cyclespeak
That seems fair.

Ronnie
Yeah, right? There’s no culture there at all.

cyclespeak
Through your advocacy and passion for life and living, what does it mean to be the touchstone for so many people invested in riding their bicycles? Is it a burden, a privilege, a little of both?

Arya
I’m very happy that people connect with what we do as that makes me feel less lonely in a big lonely world. The photos don’t lie and our Strava activities speak for themselves. But I don’t think about it as a burden or a privilege. Maybe because I don’t see us as the touchstone of anything. I hope everyone has their own sense of self in what they like. And if what we’re putting out resonates—if they want to come join our circus—then that’s good enough for me.


Click an image to open gallery

Ronnie
I think this is always where I wanted to be but never thought that I could get here. I’ve had such longstanding, strong opinions—you could say I know what I like—from my high school years when I was the only cyclist my age that I knew. And I raced the cross country mountain bike scene back in the 90s—wanting to fit in so badly—but I wasn’t terribly good at it and would end up at the back of the pack. And even my heroes felt a little distant in that pre-social media world—the closest you got were magazine stories and photo spreads—so there I was, not particularly academic, wondering what I could do.

cyclespeak
Which was?

Ronnie
I was slightly obsessed with working for Specialized. And that maybe—like in Good Will Hunting—if I started out as a janitor I could work my way up [laughs]. Which is why—considering these were my fantasies—my being where I am now and working with the heroes I had from that era is so satisfying. People like Frank the Welder who worked at Spooky Cycles which was based in Connecticut and the brand that all the cool kids wanted to race on. Not to say it was all planned out but it was definitely a desire to have a voice in the lifestyle that I love so much.

cyclespeak
You record each episode of Alt Bike NOW! sitting across from each other at your kitchen table. So what do you see in the person opposite you? The person you’ve chosen to share your life journey.

Arya
I’m always looking at Ronnie.

cyclespeak
You are?

Arya
I look at him a lot because he’s very beautiful and I like beautiful things. The UltraRomance character that he has is very much him but there’s so much more going on beneath the surface. He has incredibly kind eyes and I usually know how he’s feeling just by a single look. There’s this incredibly gentle spirit in him that the Buddhist in me really appreciates. And I love seeing him ride a rigid bike over trails because he makes it look so easy—which it’s not—and he has really nice abs as well. You can’t see it with his shirt on but his abs and his legs are extremely good.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Ronnie, would you like to reciprocate?

Ronnie
When we’re at our best, we can radiate love from a mile away. Just an incredible feeling I get when we’re enjoying life together; a life of our own design that lets us thrive and be who we are.

Arya
What about my beauty?

Ronnie
I’m getting there [laughs].

cyclespeak
Please continue.

Ronnie
Arya is extremely intelligent—she runs laps around me—which I find really attractive. I like her curiosity and dedication to self-improvement; the way she’s always working on herself is very inspiring. And now we’ll get to beauty by saying I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful in my entire life. I’m obsessed, she knows it, and works that to her favour whenever she needs to. All that physical connection—the hand holding and snuggling—we’re way into it. 

cyclespeak
And when you get to ride together?

Ronnie
That combines the two things in life that I love the most. I often pinch myself that I have someone this special in my life to share the day-to-day with.

Grateful thanks to Ronnie and Arya for sharing their stories.

ronsbikes.com

Alt Bike Now!

Feature image taken by an unnamed 80-year-old passerby on Ronnie’s birthday bike tour. All other photography by Ronnie and Arya or credited individually.

Chas Christiansen / New horizons

Posted in ConversationTagged , , , , , Leave a comment

“Nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within than a secure future.”

So says the poster—sold out I might add—on Chas Christiansen’s online store.

But change—whether chosen or forced upon us—inevitably brings with it a sense of uncertainty. A situation the artist, fixed gear legend and relentless optimist freely admits is a struggle as he considers the what next. Questions and contradictions he addresses in a searingly honest conversation balanced with humour and heartfelt reflection, that sees Chas offload on the what-was-then and the new directions of the now.

cyclespeak
You’re sitting outside in the sunshine. Are you at home?

Chas
I’m not. I’m at a friend of mine’s house. About an hour away from Oakland on the coast. Which is funny because it’s a place I usually ride by…

cyclespeak
But this time you stopped.

Chas
It’s good to spend some normal person time every once in a while.

cyclespeak
We’ve kind of already told the greater part of your story…

Chas
But I’m definitely going through life changes at the moment. This will be my last year riding professionally before I move in a different direction. So it seems to me like a good time to sit down, talk about it all, and reflect a little bit.

cyclespeak
Because the last time we spoke you were days away from ACL reconstruction surgery. And I was wondering which was the most challenging part of the process: the physical recovery or the mental task of managing worries and concerns?

Chas
You know, it was probably the mental aspects. And what’s funny is that when I look back, even though I was going through so much, it was such a simple period in my life. The first time in 20 years I’d ever stopped and taken a break.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
It sounds like it was needed?

Chas
Physical stuff is fine. I’ve been a pro-athlete long enough to understand the importance of following a PT recovery plan. If anything, that gave me some day-to-day structure and a sense of purpose to work around. But the mental side was tough. Because for a while I’d been having feelings to suggest that I wasn’t at my happiest doing this job anymore. And having that enforced period of not being able to ride maybe gave me the time to explore that for a little bit? Which in turn started the whole process of where I find myself right now. A catalyst for change, if you will.

cyclespeak
I’m reading between the lines but is this a question of identity? Almost as if you’ve inhabited this character for so many years…

Chas
Notchas? With the question now being who’s actually Chas?

cyclespeak
And the answer to that question is part of the journey you’re now on.

Chas
But what’s funny is that when I’d recovered from the surgery, I’d been so single minded at getting back to where I’d been before—I’d built up so much momentum—that it wasn’t until earlier this year that I finally came to a reckoning and started to ask some serious questions about what it all meant.

cyclespeak
Before we explore all that in more detail and just to satisfy my curiosity, can you fill me in on the Zombie Knee™ reference?

Chas
I aged-out of them taking one of my own tendons to repair my knee.

cyclespeak
That age being?

Chas
Younger than 40. And the injury that prompted this surgery happened two days after my fortieth birthday so I have an achilles tendon from a man named Dan in my knee. Which explains the zombie reference as a way of acknowledging that gift and I had the donor’s name tattooed on my knee as soon as I’d been discharged from physical therapy. I guess there’s limited factory parts for me now [smiles].


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Speaking of parts—or featherweight components—is your MASH / Santa Cruz Stigmata still the lightest tracklocross build ever at 15.2lb?

Chas
Your timing is really good because that’s the bike I hurt my knee on. And I’ve only recently got it rideable and then raced on it for the first time since I crashed two years ago. And I can confirm how astonishingly fast and light that bike is but after I posted to dare anyone to make a lighter bike, sad to say, someone did. And to the tune of half a pound lighter.

cyclespeak
More bike talk in the shape of the limited release collab you did with Engine11 and the AARN double sided track rings. Do you by nature get a buzz from working with others?

Chas
Collaborative design is amazing. Because, for me, it stretches the boundaries of my art. Which I freely admit is a little lowbrow. 2D doodles on paper or on this or that component. So you take the Engine11 frame and the AARN chainrings, not only are you considering a physical object and how you’re going to cover it, but there’s a production process to also factor in which brings another level of complexity to my designs.

cyclespeak
So there’s a certain sense of satisfaction in overcoming these challenges?

Chas
That’s one way of putting it. I’ve worked with Aaron Panone of AARN for over a decade and on the first ever edition of the rings we did, I forgot to mirror the design on the other side so a lot of the art is backwards. Which I just smooth over by saying those were limited edition pieces and hence collectable [laughs].


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
In May 2025 it was announced that you were joining the CNCPT team and then a little while later you set off on a tour of Japan with Alonso, Sean and Alvin.

Chas
I’ve been friends with the CNCPT boys for as long as we’ve been racing bikes. So being teammates seemed like something that had already existed throughout that time. But now I get to wear the jersey.

cyclespeak
And Japan?

Chas
One of the funniest things I remember from that trip is that, early on before we’d even got going on our tour, we were messing around in a mall where they have all those machines where you can buy little plastic toys. And as a joke, we all bought these tiny recorders which we somehow managed to learn to play some tunes on. So we’d pull up at a convenience store in the middle of rural Japan and it was never a spoken thing but one of us would start playing and the others would join in; four sweaty, grown men in cycling kit, loitering outside under the porch, tootling away together. The looks we got were priceless.

cyclespeak
Loitering with intent to make music.

Chas
Loitering with intent about sums it up [smiles].

cyclespeak
You acknowledged the advent of your truck rolling over 300k miles in a post and then later this year had a number of kit and component auctions to fund an engine rebuild.

Chas
That’s funny you mentioning my truck because tomorrow I’m picking it up from the shop after two months of them working on it. And it’s not that I place much importance on physical objects—I’m more of an experience based person—but that truck, for me, is a symbol of freedom. In the way that it handles and drives, it’s just like a track bike. And like my knee, the engine got a rebuild and we’re both good to keep on going.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Looking back at your auctions to fund the engine rebuild, what’s your relationship with stuff?

Chas
It actually comes with a significant amount of stress. So the truck gave me the impetus to shift a lot of it in order to raise the funds I needed to get the engine fixed. And you want to know the worst thing? It’s the fact that none of it was being used. All that race gear might hold a sentimental value to me but it means a lot more to know that someone else is wearing my old MASH kit out on their rides.

cyclespeak
So a cathartic process?

Chas
It was. A trip down memory lane when I was sorting everything out. Race kits with a hole in and I was like, “I remember that crash.”

cyclespeak
You frequently mention the freedom of travel and new experiences. And Death Valley seems to have a pull on you in that sense. Is that where you do some of your physical and mental sorting out?

Chas
There’s something about the expansive nature of that locality combined with the utter remoteness and the necessity to be self-supported. All that gets me to a place where I can mentally cleanse myself. Sometimes that’s by myself, other times when we organise our annual group ride. Which, when they first started, were really small but this last year we had 28 people and was probably my favourite thing I’ve done this year.

cyclespeak
Going from the social media posts I saw, you had 28 people and a whole bunch of fireworks.

Chas
Hey, woah. It’s a national park. I don’t know what you’re talking about [smiles]. But you know what? I like a little childlike fun in my life. And for whatever reason, fireworks take me straight back to the twelve-year-old Chas.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
From riding to running, and I’m not talking about a quick jog round the block. One of your early sorties saw you take on a 40 mile ultra in Arizona.

Chas
As I was recovering from surgery, my PT told me that if I ever wanted to run again, I needed to get moving. I guess you use it or lose it and my mind has to recognise that the impact on my reconstructed knee from running is a good thing. And then as I’ve been starting to transition away from pro cycling, it’s a space where nobody knows who I am. Which means that my running acts as this release valve because it allows me to still use my body and get what I need out of sport without all this weight of outside expectations. And here’s a little sneaky secret. Running led to swimming so I’ve registered for a half Ironman. Which makes me question who I’ve become because if you’d asked Chas, 15 years ago, if he’d ever do a triathlon, he would probably have punched you in the face.

cyclespeak
I was researching the 50k Taco Bell run in San Francisco that you competed in and it stated that no outside nutrition is allowed except supplements like tequila and caffeine.

Chas
It’s a wild event. An unsanctioned version of a totally legit, sanctioned race that takes place out in Colorado. And I’m lucky to have this great group of friends that, like me, don’t take themselves too seriously. An attitude that matches this event perfectly because to run 50k—in a weird, mildly painful way—is no small feat.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Weird, painful?

Chas
You run between nine different Taco Bells and only eat whatever they have to offer. However, if it’s a Taco Bell Cantina, you can substitute the food for a shot of tequila. But just watch out for those hot sauces. Too many and they’ll catch up with you.

cyclespeak
You lined up for The Rift in July. The 330 km ABYSS ultra route. Was that in any way a shakedown event for the Silk Road Mountain Race?

Chas
I’ve always loved racing in Iceland and my buddy Chris Burkhard hit me up about the event. The timing for Kyrgyzstan worked out as I could return home for a couple of weeks before heading out again for Silk. But then, with my decision to not travel out to Kyrgyzstan, this changed how I felt about The Rift. Would this be the last ever time I raced professionally?

cyclespeak
Which sounds quite momentous?

Chas
In some ways it was my swan song. An opportunity to take it all in, enjoy it, and acknowledge what an amazing journey this has all been. And Iceland is the perfect place to have all those thoughts because you’re riding at four in the morning through what is essentially another planet. So it proved to be a really positive experience and a reminder that I still love to race my bike and have all those great sensations.

cyclespeak
Which brings us to July when you posted the following: I’m not racing @silkroadmountainrace this year because my heart and head are not there…and that’s ok.

Chas
Silk had been on my calendar for years. The race I was supposed to race but then my knee surgery got in the way. And even throughout my recovery, it was the shining star of motivation. So a good couple of years working towards it but also, if I’m honest, a couple of years knowing that it’s not really what I want to do.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Can you put a finger on what lay behind those feelings?

Chas
I’ve been working on a bike for 20 years. I started as a bike messenger in 2006 and I’ve been a professional cyclist for the last 12. And you get to the point where you’re doing things because it’s your job. And there’s nothing wrong with that. That’s the reality for most folks. But I was travelling to all these different places and having what you could describe as once-in-a-lifetime experiences and my heart and head weren’t in it.

cyclespeak
So stepping away from Silk?

Chas
Was a way of wilfully breaking the cycle. Because our trip was fully funded, we had money to make a film, kind of a dream scenario. So walking away meant something.

cyclespeak
You’re talking about accountability?

Chas
When I first started to earn a living riding my bike, I promised myself I would say yes to everything. So to flip that on its head and say no to Silk was a pretty big deal. And let’s not forget that I was down to race as a pair with my buddy Alvin. Which brings with it a whole other level of consideration if I were to line up with him, knowing that mentally I wasn’t there. We’d done a bunch of training and I knew that he was super motivated and one hundred percent good to go.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
So saying no to that…

Chas
Was me wanting to take a step back. And although it’s scary, I do believe I’m regaining agency about what makes me happy and what I want to do with my life. Something I’ve not been feeling in a really long time.

cyclespeak
Was it important to announce this decision to the wider world?

Chas
I think I’m big on accountability. And I’d been talking about racing Silk a whole bunch so it seemed appropriate to make a statement and close the circle. As opposed to simply ghosting away. Because the past couple of decades have seen me experience incredible emotional highs but there have also been really low points that I never gave credence to. I just steamrollered on to the next high. And it had got to the point where I was travelling three weeks out of every month, 10 months of the year. So logistically, in a real world sense, I never stopped and took the time to work through any negative feelings I was having. But here’s the rub…I love this. It’s the coolest job; travelling the world to race bikes with my friends in crazy places. So I knew that if I didn’t make my decision about Silk public, I’d just keep backsliding and nothing would change.

cyclespeak
Is there ever any pressure to inhabit the best-of reel of these highs that you mention? Almost as if you’re playing a character?

Chas
There’s no doubt about it. I’m Notchas. And that’s one hundred percent authentic which I guess is why it resonates with so many people and the brands that have supported me over all these years. But that being said, I kind of lost sight of what I actually need in my life. The things that will sustain me both physically and mentally in my search for the stoke. Because the search is real and like you said, my life had turned into a highlight reel.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Personally, I believe we’re living through troubling times. There’s still joy to be found but also hardship and uncertainty. So where and how do you seek strength and support?

Chas
That’s a big question because when I look at all these changes that I’m going through, for the longest time I simply ignored any perceived problems because I had this singular focus on the trip, the travel, the race. So I’m now having to learn how to deal with all that. Which is why I’m trying to focus on the things that I care about—the friends and the family that bring joy to my life—rather than simply burying it all and getting on the next flight.

cyclespeak
So what’s next?

Chas
TBD. Partly because I didn’t fully realise how structured my life has been. I thought it was the exact opposite but, when I took a step back, it all started to make sense. There’s contract season which needs negotiating, then you get your race calendar set up, which in effect sets in stone the whole year. Factor in the January training blocks and next thing you know it’s November. So I’m still going to race bikes but I’m really leaning into the idea of things being less structured. And what that will look like is me being self-funded—which might prove interesting—and with more focus on quality over quantity.

cyclespeak
So when you wake up in the morning, what’s the first thing that goes through your head?

Chas
Right now? If I’m being honest, it’s fear. For the past couple of decades it’s been the next thing and the next but now there’s a lot of uncertainty in my life. And although this decision was my own to make, there’s an element of what am I going to do today. So I’m excited but also trepidacious. Which is an interesting place to be in life.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Can I suggest that a lot of people live their lives as a compromise? They feel they have to do this or that job—that might not excite or stimulate them—to cover their rent or mortgage payments. And they might daydream about breaking free from society’s shackles and perceived expectations but never find the strength or support to take that first step.

Chas
This has been, by far, the hardest year I’ve had in my 41 spins around the sun. And I’ve ridden a fixed gear through city traffic for a living. But the idea of creating life change and seeing it through is pretty scary. And I laugh about it because I still have this PMA* and out of all the challenging things that I’ve done—things that a lot of people would consider insanely hard—this is actually what terrifies me on a daily basis.

*positive mental attitude

cyclespeak
If we can wind the clock back to last December, you posted these poignant words: The cracks are where we grow, everything that goes wrong is an opportunity to get it right. Was the time of that post significant—it being winter—or was it more dictated by these life changes you’ve been describing?

Chas
Full transparency, I separated from my long-term partner late last year. And that has been a significant part of this whole process. And for someone who’s relentlessly—might I say toxically—positive, being able to embrace the cracks, the things that go wrong in life, and see them as opportunities for growth, is something that I’ve been really working on.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
You’re talking about resilience?

Chas
Resilience is probably one of the most important character traits we can develop but that’s not to diminish the difficulty of picking yourself up off the ground when things go wrong. That can be hard. And what I’m coming to terms with is that it’s okay to take a knee and acknowledge that things are difficult. Which isn’t easy when you have this idea that there’s only one path forward—which when you crash in a race means getting back on the bike and getting to the finish. But where I’m at now, is questioning whether there are other goals that I want to pursue. That it’s okay to take some time to reset before going in a different direction.

cyclespeak
What I find super inspirational is how you acknowledge these tough times but still come out swinging.

Chas
You take Instagram as an example. There’s this feeling that everyone on the platform is leading this perfect life and I’ve certainly been guilty of only showing the good parts. But that’s not everyday life, I don’t believe anyone gets to live like that all of the time, and why would you want to? You need the downs to define the ups. So in sharing all this, maybe I can signal that it’s okay to have difficulties. That you can embrace them and process them. Which is something I never did before but I’m trying real hard to do now. And when all is said and done, the really important part is you just get back up and do something.

Feature image by Matthew Reamer

All other photography with kind permission of Chas Christiansen (photographers credited individually)

notchas.com

Holly Barnhart / City Cyclo

Posted in ConversationTagged , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

It’s 6:00am in Los Angeles as our call connects. A sunny Saturday morning, Holly Barnhart is sitting at her desk, dressed casually, with coffee cup to hand. When not writing up her PhD thesis or out on a boat—research trips, she helpfully explains—Holly is kept busy organising grassroots racing, hosting bicycle themed yard swaps, or simply out having fun, riding with friends.

Quick to laugh and with a conversational energy that is palpable, Holly shares her nuanced insights on the LA cycle scene; a wild ride that takes in everything from the joys of ABS (always be snackin’) to riding tandems with a significant other, and the unadulterated craziness that is City Cyclo.

cyclespeak
Living on the West Coast, is it true what they say about the beautiful weather?

Holly
Pretty much. And honestly, I don’t think I could live anywhere else because of that.

cyclespeak
So on the rare occasions when it does rain, do you still ride or maybe hop on the indoor trainer?

Holly
Actually, I would do neither. This choice comes up so infrequently that, in my book, it’s a day off.

cyclespeak
I can see you’ve got your breakfast coffee and I was wondering whether you’re normally such an early riser?

Holly
I thought it would be good motivation; ready for my bike ride later today. But normally? No. Sleepy lady over here.

cyclespeak
So what’s your home vibe? Super minimalist or jam-packed full of bikes?

Holly
I moved in with my partner a little over a year ago and it’s that funny thing in a relationship where you’re living in someone else’s space. There’s definitely stuff that I’ve made my own but that’s not to say it’s wholly a representation of me. And yes, it is full of bikes. With a tandem and a couple of town bikes outside.

cyclespeak
Don’t they say that riding a tandem with your partner is a maker or a breaker?

Holly
Oh yeah. The phrase I heard was that wherever you’re going with your relationship, the tandem will get you there faster [laughs].

cyclespeak
Dare I ask who gets to steer?

Holly
Oh, that’s me of course. For better or worse, I’m the captain.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Before we get into bikes and bike riding, can we take a little look back at where you grew up, college, and what you’re doing now?

Holly
I grew up in San Diego and then went to Berkeley to study Earth Science which is sort of in between Geology and Environmental Science. I stayed up there for a year or two after graduation before returning to LA and grad school. I started a PhD programme at Caltech, working as a chemical oceanographer, which means you’ll find me either in the lab or out on a boat. But I’m getting towards the end of my PhD so a lot of my time is now spent sitting in front of a computer, processing data and writing papers.

cyclespeak
So not long and you’ll be Dr Holly Barnhart?

Holly
That’s right. Or Dr Barnfart as I like to tell people they should call me [laughs].

cyclespeak
Were bikes a big part of your childhood?

Holly
Honestly, not that much. I do distinctly remember scootering back and forth to my grandma’s house. But cycling didn’t really get going until I started college. And don’t hold this against me—I thought it was the coolest thing in the world—but it was joining the triathlon team that first got me riding a bike. Not that I ever did a single race but I really enjoyed the sense of community.

cyclespeak
Now that riding has grown to be such an important aspect of your identity, are your bikes simply a tool for a job or is there more of an emotional connection?

Holly
When I first started riding it was exclusively road. And it wasn’t until the end of my time in the Bay Area that I got my first gravel bike: a graduation present to myself but on a college student’s budget so it was pretty basic and had road gearing. But what it did do, was introduce me to this idea that the bike is a tool you can use to explore stuff. Which was a pretty big shift for me. And then, when I made the move to LA, I discovered this community that did a lot more off-road riding, which in turn, helped me figure out the local trails and the cool neighbourhoods. And looking back, that’s maybe when bikes took on a whole new meaning.

cyclespeak
And the emotional connection to your bikes?

Holly
They all have sentimental value with the possible exception of that first gravel bike. Which on the first ever City Cyclo event organised by Dani Arman, Jen Whalen and Kyle Kelley—and after taking a wrong turn through some bushes—I managed to fully rip off the derailleur before walking the two miles back to the finish line.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
So do you embrace n+1? Or once you’ve got a bike for a particular job, is that enough?

Holly
I have a road bike that I count as a forever bike. A steel framed Beach Club that once belonged to Sean Talkington of Team Dream and The Cub House. An amazing bike that I absolutely love—it rides so nicely—and the Cub House folks were some of the first cycling friends I made in LA.

cyclespeak
And gravel?

Holly
I have a steel Dark Moon that is pretty epic so I don’t need another gravel bike. And my mountain bike—also steel—is by Souvenir Cycles and was built by a friend of mine. So I’ve got this beautiful steel fleet—each with its own origin story—that just gives me so much joy.

cyclespeak
I guess it’s rather difficult to pin down the LA ride scene?

Holly
That’s the beauty of the West Coast, in that it’s all the scenes. The community is so large and diverse that you can pretty much find whatever riding you’re looking for. If you’re a diehard roadie, there are rides for that. Or maybe you want to get off the road and hit some dirt trails.

cyclespeak
Do these various groups talk to each other or is there a hierarchy?

Holly
Not a hierarchy as such but maybe very little overlap. The roadies meeting up for Panda’s Ponies on a Wednesday morning aren’t necessarily the same folks going to The Cub House basket ride.

cyclespeak
So is it tribal? Are there unspoken rules?

Holly
There’s a little bit of that. But maybe my own experience is coloured geographically.

cyclespeak
How so?

Holly
I did an all-day ride in the Santa Monica mountains—so West Side—wearing a tee over bibs and carrying a musette and got a few funny looks. And then, when I flatted early on, this guy stopped to help me fix it and offered to tow me back to the group which was a nice friendly gesture. I think he was surprised when I held on and then subsequently dropped him [laughs].

cyclespeak
And East Side?

Holly
Maybe more—how can I say—kookier? And a little bit of a fashion show? I’ve noticed in summer time that people are now wearing just a sleeveless base layer or a crop-top over their bibs. People kind of want to show up and look cool. Whether that’s in a pair of jorts or head-to-toe branded kit.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
And what do people ride?

Holly
It’s a real mix. And one of the things that is really cool about the LA scene is that the vast majority of the rides are beginner friendly. So you can ride whatever you bring. Often you’ll have over a hundred people on Panda’s Ponies—rolling out at 6:30 in the morning—with a mix of hard chargers going for the KOM and new riders on their grandma’s bike. It’s just beautiful because everyone’s out there together, having fun, and we all re-group at the top.

cyclespeak
Is there anything that particularly defines riding in LA?

Holly
There’s the shop scene which is kind of special and very West Coast. These awesome bike shops such as The Cub House, Let’s Ride, and Golden Saddle Cyclery—which is now Allez LA—that all act as community spaces and offer a really beautiful entry point into cycling.

cyclespeak
It sounds like there’s something for everyone.

Holly
The Cub House basket ride on a Wednesday evening is a tootle up to a lookout point with a stop on the way for a beer at the corner store. And Allez LA has a Friday morning ride that bops around LA on some of the most awesome and/or scariest dirt in the city.

cyclespeak
Referencing the #LASucksForCycling hashtag, are there any misconceptions regarding LA as a cycling city?

Holly
That’s what’s so funny because it absolutely does not. Maybe it takes a little getting used to—I was terrified when I first moved here—but it’s got everything. Which probably goes some way to explain why the cycling community is so diverse. The road riding has spectacular climbs and epic descents, the gravel is awesome with so many different flavours, and then there’s all this crazy in-town stuff.

cyclespeak
You mention craziness, which leads us nicely to City Cyclo.

Holly
It originated a couple of years ago. Dani Arman and Jen Whalen teamed up with Kyle Kelley to host a race—kind of low-key but also relatively competitive—which was held in Elysian Park and proved to be completely nuts. There were all these checkpoints where you had to find stickers and then everyone stayed to party afterwards. And that continued for a while until there was this lull. Which was when I decided to reach out—not wanting to step on anyone’s toes—but Dani was, “Please. Take it. Use the name.” Which is pretty much what I did.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
So how would you describe City Cyclo to the uninitiated?

Holly
Frequently fucked-up routes. Ridiculous promo videos. Women running the show. An exploration wrapped up in a little bit of a suffer fest. Take your pick [laughs].

cyclespeak
It all sounds rather awesome.

Holly
I guess you could say the format is loose, with more emphasis on goofing off and going hard than enforcing any particular set of rules. First place finishers score a dollar-store trophy or an airbrushed T-shirt from City Cyclo patron saint Charlie Staunton. Beyond that, there are no finish times and no race results. Just a beer afterwards.

cyclespeak
I guess this sense of community you’re building—everyone looks like they’re having such a good time—extends to your yard swap concept?

Holly
That all started when me and a couple of friends were moving in with our partners and needed to get rid of stuff. There’s kind of a culture on the West Coast for bike swaps and a friend had this beautiful big yard so we decided to throw something together. Everyone is welcome to bring whatever they have and hang out all day.

cyclespeak
It all sounds super inspiring. And something else that meets that mark was your participation in TSP CYC* riding on the CNCPT team. Which looked like a pretty epic experience?

*The cycling edition of The Speed Project: an unsanctioned, self-supported relay race from Santa Monica pier in LA to the Las Vegas city limits sign.

Holly
So I knew Alvin Escajeda and Sean Eric Martin from CNCPT—just from riding in LA—and they were my first introduction to the idea of ultra cycling. With their encouragement, I signed up for this 400 mile loop not far from San Diego called Stagecoach which was me dipping my toe into another way of racing.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Isn’t that quite a rowdy event for the first dip of your toe?

Holly
Yeah [laughs]. Very possibly. Which is why Alvin and his partner Ginger—the sweetest couple—took me on a couple of recon trips that included an overnighter in Anza-Borrego, the desert area outside of San Diego. And then I got a call from Alvin as I was heading downtown on the metro train in LA. He explained how there was this thing and they needed a woman [laughs].

cyclespeak
That’s quite a conversational lead.

Holly
That’s when Alvin explained that the teams had to have both male and female riders and asked whether I was interested. He’s giving me all these details but there’s all this shit going on in the train so I said how it sounded really awesome and I’d think about it and get right back to him. So I ended the call and then this person on the train—who was having some kind of mental breakdown—turned around and just punched me in the face. So traumatic and disconnected from this conversation I’d just been having a second before with Alvin.

cyclespeak
So what happened next?

Holly
The people on the train were wonderful, helped me out, and then when I got to the ER they confirmed I had a broken nose and two fractured bones in my orbital wall. A couple of days later I messaged Alvin to say that some crazy shit had just happened—I had a double set of wicked black eyes and my nose was huge from the swelling—but if I could still ride my bike, I was in.

cyclespeak
How long until the race was to start?

Holly
A couple of weeks [laughs]. And honestly the race wasn’t that bad. The biggest downside was my broken nose meant I couldn’t snot rocket.

cyclespeak
Which as a cyclist…

Holly
You have to do [laughs]. It’s just part of riding a bike. And that proved the hardest part of TSP: taking these long pulls and letting the boogers drip down my face.

cyclespeak
That’s definitely a look.

Holly
There I was, this crazy lady crossing Death Valley in the middle of the night, terrified that something might come out of the bushes. Whereas, in hindsight, they’re going to be way more scared of me.

cyclespeak
As it’s a relay race, were you able to get any sleep when Alvin or Sean took a pull?

Holly
I got a little rest but not nearly enough. And there’s also the challenge of getting as much food into you as possible. And what proved funny, was this craving I had for tinned tuna and crackers. So the poor boys, cooped up in that van, had to contend with the smell of fish whenever they took a break.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
A fair proportion of your Instagram feed seems to depict you snacking on and off the bike?

Holly
I guess I’m pretty food orientated. The ride is your excuse to eat weird shit [laughs].

cyclespeak
And speaking about Instagram, you’ve featured in some extremely funny spoof video clips with friends Jen, Audrey and Dani. There was Bike Wash where you set out to reverse toxic masculinity, and Debbie and Deborah which features you as a victim of City Cyclo.

Holly
When Jen and Dani started City Cyclo, they put together these goofy promo videos and that just remains part of the scene. And if I’m going to take this on, at the very least I have to meet their level of weirdness and maybe even aim to exceed it. And it’s all just pulled together on iMovie; which is kind of funny, living in LA, where people do this for a living.

cyclespeak
So which of the potential City Cyclo injuries featured in Debbie and Deborah have you yourself suffered?

Holly
Physical and mental exhaustion, check. Definitely the cramps.

cyclespeak
Sticker residue on bike frames?

Holly
You can tell who’s attended a City Cyclo race for weeks afterwards based on whether or not there’s half a sticker still attached to their bike frame [laughs].

cyclespeak
You talk so passionately about your bikes and bike riding. And I was very curious about the emotional response this aspect of your life engenders. Which I guess is a complicated way of asking how it makes you feel to ride a bike?

Holly
That’s such a hard one. Because I think my answer would be different depending on what bike I’m riding. Since I’ve been doing a lot more mountain biking, I love that it’s kind of like a puzzle. A mental challenge in addition to the physical effort. On a technical trail your mind is working on where to place your wheel so you can make a turn or avoid this or that rock. Which is a very different experience to when I’m out on my road or gravel bike where my main focus is to see stuff.

cyclespeak
So if there’s a choice between being lost or found?

Holly
Whether it’s a new trail or a different neighbourhood to explore—and without wanting to sound too woo-woo—the idea of getting lost means you’re actually finding something. Which maybe doesn’t address your question but, to me, sounds really cool.

All photography with kind permission of Holly Barnhart (images credited individually)

Two together / Camp And Go Slow

Posted in Conversation, Two TogetherTagged , , , Leave a comment

I’m sitting on a call with Casey Clark and Sarah Lillegard from their home in Lassen County, California. After some initial technical difficulties, somewhat fittingly these partners in both life and work are sharing a single pair of wired ear buds. With individual small businesses balanced by their brand Camp And Go Slow—playfully self-described as a menagerie of bar tapes, bags, apparel and accessories—our conversation explores how they first found each other as a couple, both the risk and reward of being their own bosses, and how they wouldn’t have it any other way.

cyclespeak
As it’s your morning and my early evening, I was wondering whether there’s a routine your day usually follows?

Casey
We start out about the same but then things can get a little random.

cyclespeak
So you sit down together over breakfast?

Casey
We do. Because we both work from home, we’re pretty much here together each and every day.

Sarah
We have animals so there are morning chores. Letting the sheep out of the barn, feeding the dog and the cat.

cyclespeak
So what time does your day start?

Casey
We try not to set an alarm unless we really need to. But between the sun and our little dog, it’s usually somewhere between six and seven.

cyclespeak
Before we dig deeper into your work lives, can we start with your story as a couple?

Sarah
Casey and I had been in similar friend groups for quite a while. We were both involved with non-profits and art groups in Reno and we shared a makers’ space called Cuddleworks. Casey was making pottery, I had an artist studio, and at some point during this time we’d both separated from our then partners. Gradually we began to realise that our friendship had the potential to be a little bit more than simply friends and that we both shared similar ideas of where we wanted our lives to go. Which, as I remember it, led to a very adult realisation that yes, this is working out very well.

Casey
We’d been friends for quite a while before we started dating. Which is kind of weird because usually you start dating and then see if there’s a friendship.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
And it all went from there?

Casey
Sharing those big spaces meant we were constantly collaborating on this or that—very aware of what each was doing—and then when we moved out here together, we pretty much continued working in much the same way.

cyclespeak
Was there ever a fear that you might spoil a friendship?

Sarah
For me, there was an odd certainty about where we were going relationship wise. It was check, check, check, all the boxes ticked. And to be honest, I was more worried that it wasn’t going to happen.

Casey
Knowing the way I can process things, maybe there was a part of me that recognised I should be afraid of spoiling our friendship. But in reality it never felt like a concern. It all felt very intuitive and an easy decision to make.

cyclespeak
Leaving aside Camp And Go Slow for a moment and focusing first on individual work roles, I read on your website, Casey, that you’re a bike mechanic (retired), potter (current), and cyclist (passable). So is being a potter a passion, a profession, or a little of both?

Casey
Obsession seems a little more apt of a term. But now it’s my profession, the reason we live where we live, and why I split my time between making pots and running Camp And Go Slow.

cyclespeak
So how did that play out?

Casey
I was working full-time as a bike mechanic, clocking out from the bike shop, and then starting work on my pottery—oftentimes until one or two in the morning—in my studio that was next door.

cyclespeak
And now?

Casey
It’s become an important and necessary part of our small business model. I still love it but I do have to manage my time pretty carefully, produce enough items, and make sure they’re priced accordingly. So you start off learning the craft part of it with all the intrinsic motivations that come with doing something you care deeply about. And then, if you decide to commodify it and turn what you’re making into a business, then that imposes certain restraints. There are a lot of pots I picture in my head that I know I can’t sell. But that’s the trade-off.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Same question for you Sarah. With the intriguing reference to you being a small flock sheep shearer with the emphasis on small.

Sarah
In the shearing industry there’s a distinction between large and small flock shearing. And most images that you see on television or online tend to feature a large flock. There’s a pen of sheep in a contained area and the pace is pretty frenetic.

cyclespeak
And small flock shearing?

Sarah
I mainly work with small-scale ranchers or people that have hobby flocks. There’s a lot more focus on customer service which means I spend a lot of my time interacting with the flock owner. It’s not unusual for these sheep to have names, specific personality traits, and origin stories that the owner is keen to share with me. Whereas in large flock shearing they have to make numbers so they’re moving through thousands of sheep.

cyclespeak
How did this job find you? Or did you find it?

Casey
How long have we got? [laughs]

Sarah
I took a wool spinning class and instead of learning to knit with the yarn I was making, I went the other way. Partly because sheep are so fascinating—I’ve read up on the cultural history of sheep and love talking breeds with the flock owners—and because it’s a job with a rural setting.

cyclespeak
Which brings us nicely to your shared business Camp And Go Slow. Which I believe started almost as a joke with a die-cut sticker?

Casey
It was a bike shop gag. And there were only twelve in the first batch of stickers. Literally cut out of some scrap vinyl from a trash can. But I gave them out to my friends and they all thought it was funny and then people started asking for more. Which was when I actually paid $4 to buy some vinyl.

cyclespeak
From little acorns, as they say. And now that it’s grown to be a business in its own right, how do you individually divide up the tasks that help keep Camp And Go Slow on the road?

Casey
One aspect of our romantic breakfast-together lifestyle is basically eating eggs whilst having a daily employee meeting. The initial product development—which is a fancy way to say it—is mostly derived from my bike-nerd brain and then we bounce these ideas back and forth across the table. And because I’ve worked in bike shops pretty much since I was out of high school, I have a lot of friends with small businesses producing various bike-related products and that encourages me to consider what they’re good at, how we can collaborate, and how that might be mutually beneficial.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
And your role in the business, Sarah?

Sarah
Bike culture isn’t ingrained in my life. So Casey is the one with product ideas and the witty social media posts. But my background in exhibit curation and graphic design helps when we take a concept through to ideation. I look after all the day-to-day digital file components of each individual design and spend a lot of time considering colour palettes.

cyclespeak
You mention colour and I’ve noticed that much of your product range appears to take stylistic cues from your local fauna and flora and an earthy colour palette. And I was wondering if Camp And Go Slow is intrinsically rooted in your present locality or whether it’s actually the two of you and could therefore adapt to wherever you decide to lay your hat?

Sarah
I have strong feelings about this. And particularly the colour influence of our work which I would agree is rooted in the Great Basin where we live. The palette is pretty subtle, it rewards a long look, it’s very seasonal. And I feel at a certain point that kind of infiltrates into who we are and what we make.

cyclespeak
And you, Casey?

Casey
It’s a good question but not one that I’ve ever thought about because I’ve never considered the possibility of living anywhere else.

cyclespeak
As simple as that.

Casey
If you look at how we dress and the way our house looks, it’s pretty obvious that the language of this colour palette is native to us. And that’s not to say we don’t like other languages but we’re not fluent in them.

cyclespeak
I don’t think anyone lives a life devoid of pressure and the occasional calamity. So how do you each respond to challenging times and, as a couple, support each other?

Casey
That’s a big one.

Sarah
I feel like a good chunk of our relationship has been navigating traumatic and stressful situations. When we moved out here, it felt like one natural disaster after another.

Casey
We’ve had some doozies with wild fires and a mud slide that took out our water supply.

Sarah
I feel like we’re constantly learning better ways of managing. Because by nature I tend to bottle things up and get stressed. But Casey can read that right away; obviously I’m far from subtle…

Casey
It’s a bottle but it’s a clear bottle.


Click an image to open gallery

Sarah
So if I’m stressed, Casey will encourage me to spend time in the garden, go for a run, take the dog for a walk. In much the same way as I’ll suggest Casey gets out on his bike or spends some time with friends.

Casey
There are the day-to-day pressures of being small business owners and juggling the gazillion responsibilities that come with that. And we understand that when we do take some time away, whatever project we’re working on will be right here on the kitchen table waiting for when we get back. Which means we work a lot but we understand that trade-off and with it you get a lot of agency.

cyclespeak
And when it’s not an everyday problem but something more potentially catastrophic?

Casey
It’s usually a natural disaster or a weather related problem that just throws everything into chaos. And when these things happen, you don’t go for a bike ride and feel better. But you gradually evolve a response mechanism after going through the wringer a few times. We both know what we’re good at, so we see what needs to be done without having to hash out who’s doing what.

Sarah
During the wildfire—when it was coming straight at our property—my priority was to make sure the animals were safe. And when that moment arrived, I didn’t say, “Casey, I love you, be safe” because I knew he understood how to handle the stress of that situation. But then later, when things were more under control, I did wonder whether it was odd that I didn’t vocalise my concern and affection. But I trusted Casey implicitly in the knowledge that he knew what to do.

cyclespeak
You mention communication and your breakfast-time talks. And I was wondering whether there’s a debrief at the end of each day? Or is everything a little blurred because you live where you work and work where you live?

Casey
The second one [laughs]. We don’t really have boundaries between working and living. It all happens simultaneously.

cyclespeak
Would you like to have boundaries?

Casey
Not boundaries as such. But it might be nice to feel less pressure to be productive and work so often.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
How does this look in real life?

Casey
It’s rare that I go for a bike ride and don’t stop to take photos for the Instagram feed. It’s rare that I go on a bike ride not thinking about the never-ending list of projects that I’ve got on the go.

cyclespeak
So you’re always on?

Casey
Pretty much but it sounds a lot worse than it actually is. I like being tuned into it. I’ve worked really hard so I can be tuned into it. And it’s a lot more rewarding than spending eight hours a day working towards someone else’s goals.

cyclespeak
But that’s the reality for the vast majority of people. They do a job that’s okay but not something they love. To get a monthly pay check that they spend on their hobbies and interests. Whereas you and Sarah have flipped that and though you might put in more hours, your passions guide what you do for a living.

Casey
It’s definitely less financially secure and the boundaries are blurred. But we’ve both tried to do it the other way and that’s just not how we’re wired.

cyclespeak
I understand the challenges of running a small business—or businesses in your case—and I imagine you put in way more hours than the standard nine to five but can I say that you both look very well on the life decisions you’ve made?

Casey
Thank you [smiles]. And I guess that’s just how we roll. There’s this need to be neck deep in whatever project or business idea we’ve got going on. Which all comes with more risk but a lot more reward when you nail it.

cyclespeak
Does that all resonate, Sarah?

Sarah
I feel like we’re constantly trying to sort out how to communicate what needs to happen and when. And then you add in all the tasks relating to the upkeep of this property. Which means that certain times of the year can be a little intense with to-do lists and calendar notes.

cyclespeak
Those pinch points of life and living?

Sarah
Sometimes in the spring it can feel especially overwhelming when the shearing season adds to everything else we’ve got going on—a lot of moving parts—which is usually when we discuss how it would look if we scaled back one of the businesses. We’ve got this three-legged stool with Casey’s pottery, my sheep shearing, and Camp And Go Slow. Which in reality means that no one business gets one hundred percent of our attention and time. So we do have these what if conversations but we’ve never quite found an answer.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
Is that because you prefer things to happen organically?

Casey
I don’t know whether making plans or favouring organic growth are mutually exclusive. We’re both very methodical but there are always those moments when things don’t quite go according to plan. Which, if you think about it, is most of the time. And it’s not like we’re typing out little manifestos but we have a framework and then shuffle things around as needs must.

cyclespeak
And long term planning?

Sarah
I think that’s where the organic comes in. There isn’t a ten-year master plan pinned up on the wall because every year there’s some big hick-up. But for me, not having a rigid sense of what the future holds makes the bumps in the road a little less stressful.

Casey
It’s like being on a bike tour. You have a general sense of the direction and the route you’ll be following but there’s always something that throws a spanner in the works. So the flexibility to improvise is a real skill and a lot of what I learned through bike touring applies really well to our businesses.

cyclespeak
Pulling all these strands together and in whatever terms you choose Sarah, what do you see and feel when you look at Casey?

Sarah
There are so many things that constantly amaze and impress. His mind works in a way that is so different from my own. I swear he wakes up, opens his eyes, and tells a joke. Whereas I have to save it up for a year, working it over in my head. And there’s this duality with Casey that, being his partner, I get to see. On the one hand a toughness and sense of accountability that can come across as a little gruff or grumpy. But wrapped up and around that is so much kindness and consideration. Smart, savvy and handsome. Rugged yet sensitive.

cyclespeak
The same question for you, Casey.

Casey
Sarah has qualities that I might have little bits of, but I wish were bigger. In Sarah they’re inflated a thousand times. She’s such a thoughtful and caring individual—it’s just innate—the bedrock of her whole being. Which makes it so easy for me to trust her and that’s coming from someone with an autonomy complex. And Sarah is the only person in my life that I know will do this or that way better than I ever could. Which is a charming thing to have in a business partner but especially in a life partner. It just feels so nice to be seen and taken care of. And I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed that so much as I do now. A little halo of light around my gruff exterior and this might sound a little clichéd but I like myself more when I’m around her.


Click an image to open gallery

cyclespeak
And the best aspects of your life together?

Casey
My favourite thing is just being in it with Sarah. Even the challenging parts—perhaps especially the challenging parts—when instinctively we draw closer to each other. There’s this profound sense of reward that, together, we’ve got through whatever has been thrown at us. It’s like when they say something’s greater than the sum of its parts. We both place a value on the agency of working for ourselves and how we get to decide when and where to focus our time and energy.

Sarah
I really appreciate how we can create ethical boundaries on what we make and how we do it; something I always struggled with when I was working for other businesses. And what this looks like—when we’re developing products for Camp And Go Slow—is a lot of time considering how we’re treating the other makers we’re working with, what the customer experience will look like, and whether there’s a longevity to whatever we’re creating. It’s so exciting to finally touch and feel a product that started out as a discussion over the breakfast table.

Casey
Because our businesses are really small, we don’t have marketing executives and account managers pushing us in this or that direction. If I want to spend an extra couple of minutes on every coffee mug that I make, doing some fussy little detail that most people won’t even notice, I can just do it. We both place a lot of importance in that sense of freedom. And because we’re really into the details of what we do, that’s where we get to do our most rewarding work. And there’s nobody here to stop us [smiles].

Feature image and Great Basin Pottery photography with kind permission of John Watson and The Radavist

Grateful thanks to Casey and Sarah of Camp And Go Slow for their conversational candour

Harry Talbot / Race chaser

Posted in Conversation, PhotographyTagged , , Leave 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


Click an image to open gallery

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


Click an image to open gallery

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


Click an image to open gallery

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

Posted in Conversation, PhotographyTagged , , , , , , , , , Leave 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)


Click an image to open gallery

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


Click an image to open gallery

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


Click an image to open gallery

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

Click an image to open gallery

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

Posted in ConversationTagged , , , , Leave 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

Posted in ConversationTagged , , , , Leave 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

Posted in ConversationTagged , , , , , Leave 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

Posted in Conversation, PhotographyTagged , , , , , , , Leave 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

Posted in Conversation, InterviewTagged , , 1 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