Chas Christiansen / In search of the stoke

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


Chas
Hey! Whatsup?

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

Chas
Well there you go.

cyclespeak
You’re calling from home?

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

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

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

cyclespeak
You mentioned San Francisco as home?

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

cyclespeak
So it’s important?

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

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

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


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cyclespeak
Has Oakland become cooler since you took up residency?

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

cyclespeak
I’m guessing Chas is short for Charles.

Chas
It is. Charles William Christiansen.

cyclespeak
Does anyone call you Charles?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
Which is where the bike comes in?

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

cyclespeak
I can see the attraction.

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

cyclespeak
And a potential new scene to explore?

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


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cyclespeak
So you decided to switch career paths?

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

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

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

cyclespeak
So a hard life?

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

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

*Taking Care of Business

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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cyclespeak
Was this the gateway to racing Red Hook?

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

cyclespeak
And then gravel came calling?

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

cyclespeak
You scaled it?

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

cyclespeak
And what did they say?

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

cyclespeak
So you were in.

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

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

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

cyclespeak
But there is a difference between the disciplines?

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


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

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

cyclespeak
What made you decide to stop?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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cyclespeak
You’re comfortable with this analogue process?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

[here Chas pauses]

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

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

Two Together / Van life

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
Obviously stars were aligning.

Alex
I guess you could say so.

cyclespeak
So what function was your van meant to serve?

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

cyclespeak
And for you, Cayla?

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

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

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

cyclespeak
And how did that experiment work out?

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
How far are we talking about?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
So did you figure out a solution?

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

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

cyclespeak
You’re connected!

Cayla
We are indeed [laughs].

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

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

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

cyclespeak
That’s good to know [laughs].

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

cyclespeak
And your sleeping arrangements?

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

cyclespeak
Cocooned?

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

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

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

cyclespeak
So what have been the biggest positives?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alex
Not really any build plans…

Cayla
One little one…

Alex
The composting toilet?

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

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
So a composting toilet?

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

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

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

Cayla
Vice versa.

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

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

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

All photography with kind permission of Alex and Cayla

Sami Sauri / Adventure more

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

Sami
Home again [smiles].

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

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

cyclespeak
How’s the weather in Chamonix?

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

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

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

cyclespeak
What’s he called?

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

cyclespeak
A little like a toddler?

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


Click image to enlarge

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
So the process took some navigating?

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


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

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

cyclespeak
That sounds like a lot to contend with?

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

cyclespeak
It all sounds super stressful.

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


Click image to enlarge

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

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

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
So how can we make positive changes?

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


Click image to enlarge

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

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

cyclespeak
So how many different cheeses did you taste?

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

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

Sami
It was a massive day [laughs].

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

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

cyclespeak
You were flying.

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

cyclespeak
So you still have a competitive edge?

Sami
I do!!


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

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

cyclespeak
And the people?

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

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

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

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

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


Click image to enlarge

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
Wherever you feel comfortable in starting?

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

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

Feature image with grateful thanks to Jeremy Toro

Dan Craven / Top Class Bicycles

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
Are you also more connected to wildlife?

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Click image to enlarge

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

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

cyclespeak
So what’s changed?

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

cyclespeak
How are you getting around this?

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


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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
And can you categorise what that is?

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

cyclespeak
So where does Onguza sit?

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


Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Is paint an important part of this process?

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

cyclespeak
You launched Onguza with some pretty iconic visual designs.

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

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

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

cyclespeak
A case of buy well, buy once?

Dan
Yes, exactly.


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

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

cyclespeak
So it’s a possibility?

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

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

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

cyclespeak
And now?

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


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cyclespeak
Can you pinpoint what was stopping you?

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

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

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

cyclespeak
Surprises?

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

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

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


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

Dan
Let me use this as one tiny example.

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

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

cyclespeak
And give the bicycle more character?

Dan
Yes, one hundred percent.

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

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

cyclespeak
Which was?

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

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

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


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cyclespeak
And then?

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

cyclespeak
I’m sensing a but.

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

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

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

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

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

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

onguza.com

Dan King / A reason to be there

As the list of jobs lengthens—you’ll need the fingers of both hands to keep count—it takes a surprisingly long time before professional photographer and filmmaker Dan King mentions first picking up a camera. But pick one up he did—or borrowed, to be absolutely accurate—before heading to the south of France and the start of his creative journey.

Self-taught and with an innate passion for the outdoors, Dan’s body of work beautifully captures the blur of mid-race bodies and finish line faces etched with emotion. An approach to his craft that he offers up as a no-nonsense narrative: from a fascinating deep-dive into his recent film Caboose, to why it’s much more than just taking a good photo.


cyclespeak
You’re down in Brighton?

Dan
In a tiny village just outside.

cyclespeak
You grew up in this area?

Dan
I was born in Southwick which is a town just along the coast from Brighton. And my wife is from Burgess Hill which is why we ended up living here. But we’re actually thinking about selling up and moving up to the Peaks. What we can get for the little cottage we’re in now should get us something a bit bigger by moving further north.

cyclespeak
It’s rather grey up here.

Dan
That’s fine by me. I love the north. I would move to Scotland if I could make the transport connections work. So the Peaks is the ideal scenario and we’ve landed on Holmfirth as one potential place to start looking. Close to a couple of airports and good motorway links.

cyclespeak
And plenty of green fields and open spaces?

Dan
I couldn’t live in a city. It would drive me crazy. When I go to see Tom* in Manchester, I can’t do the crowds or the tram thing. All of that is just bollocks.

*Tom Reynolds. Friend and co-creator of Caboose

Team Amani / The TRAKA


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cyclespeak
Can we rewind back to your childhood? Whether it was a creative, artistic upbringing?

Dan
My Dad worked in IT so all we did was computers.

cyclespeak
Gaming or programming?

Dan
By the time I was in my mid-teens, I could build websites, even build my own computer. So I would copy CDs and games and sell them at school. But I never got on with Sixth Form—I just didn’t enjoy it—so I left and got a job at Marks & Spencer. And then a mate started an evening course in computing so I decided to do that. A job in IT security followed until another mate—who worked as a builder—mentioned that his uncle was looking for a woodworking apprentice. It took four years for me to get qualified but then I went out to Australia because another mate was working as a roofer. I’d only been there for three days before I started working as a roofer too. It was good money and you were working outside but then I hurt my back. My visa was about to expire so I just came home.

cyclespeak
And another job to add to our growing list?

Dan
I went to work with the mate who’d got me into carpentry—fitting kitchens—but my back was still playing up and because I was still doing the websites, I decided to apply for this job at a print agency that wanted to get into web design. That lasted for three years until I was headhunted to work with a startup that was doing something similar to Mailchimp. It was pretty obvious from the very beginning that they were never going to compete, so I decided to set up my own web agency. It was around this time that I was really getting into my cycling and keen to do web stuff for outdoorsy brands. So every morning I would walk down to the local chippy where I would peel mountains of potatoes. This gave me the ready money to travel into Brighton where I would meet people and pitch them my web work.

cyclespeak
But still no photography?

Dan
We’re nearly there [laughs]. Because I’d seen a post that mentioned the Further bike packing route in the Pyrenees. So I borrowed a camera and got myself down to the south of France with a view to taking some pictures for social media. I arrived late on a Friday night and the first person I met was Mike, co-owner of Zero Neuf*. Hunt bike wheels also happened to be there and asked if they could use some of my pictures for their newsletter. A little while later, Hunt got back in touch to ask if I’d like to shoot the road team they were sponsoring and it all started from there with a kind of three-year-plan.

*The farmhouse and retreat run by Mike Tucker and his wife Joss

cyclespeak
Which was?

Dan
Year One, I would go to events, take pictures and hope to meet people who would want to use the images or might need some web work. Year Two, I was only going to go if I had my expenses paid. And then Year Three, I needed to get paid for my time.

UTMB / Chamonix


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cyclespeak
So until you rocked up at Zero Neuf, the camera had never really figured?

Dan
My Grandad was into photography—in the way that he thought he was—and had all the gear but no idea. But me? I was never that into it.

cyclespeak
Because there’s the assumption—as it’s your profession—that at some point the camera switched from simply recording events such as holidays or birthdays to expressing an emotion or telling a story?

Dan
The biggest problem with photography, as I see it, is that very few people will share information about how and what they’re doing. But I was lucky because, early on, when I messaged the photographer Sean Hardy he was happy to chat about what it takes to build a career.

cyclespeak
It must take time to work out the way you shoot?

Dan
A brand employs you for the experience and knowledge you bring to their campaign. And yes, it takes time to fathom that out. But I had the safety blanket of my web design so I was in a very fortunate position of being able to pick the jobs that I really wanted to do. Because I’ve always preferred to do something that feels real and authentic.

cyclespeak
How does that play out in a practical sense?

Dan
It can go one of two ways. You either 100% stage whatever you’re shooting. Or it’s actually happening in real time and you’re there to capture it. When it’s in the middle, in my opinion it just doesn’t work. The models are uncomfortable because everything feels unnatural.

cyclespeak
Can we take these thoughts and ideas and apply them to your film Caboose that was shot around The Speed Project Atacama? The desert landscape was breathtaking but logistically I’m guessing it had its moments?

Dan
Atacama was in November and I’d first met Tom in June at the Gather Festival hosted at Zero Neuf. He mentioned that he was going to Chile for The Speed Project and I was like, fuck me mate, I want to go too, let’s talk.

cyclespeak
And Tom hooked you up?

Dan
After Gather, there were messages going back and forth until it was all arranged. But rather than just photographing the race, I said to Tom that we should reach out to some brands for sponsorship and make a film.

cyclespeak
How did you structure the pitch?

Dan
The approach I take is: this is what I’m going to do, are you in? That way the brands know what they’re signing up to and I retain creative control.

cyclespeak
So the project is on your terms?

Dan
Exactly. And if we’re sponsored by a number of brands, there isn’t one dominant voice shouting above the rest. So we reached out and it was, yeah, yeah, that’s all cool, and I booked my flight.

The Speed Project / Atacama


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cyclespeak
Did you and Tom work on a possible story line?

Dan
Leading up to the trip, I shot some video of Tom but you don’t really know how everything will pan out. It’s a real event so you can’t really count on anything. All you can control is having the available resources to capture whatever happens. But as we now had a budget, we decided to get our own crew to free me up from having to drive and look after the runners. So I reached out to a friend in South America and she recommended this person called Tilly who runs a horse and husky ranch.

cyclespeak
So you land in Chile…

Dan
And Tilly was there to meet us at the airport. And straight away she’s on it. Telling the hire car company—who were trying to pull a fast one—to fuck off. Perfect!

cyclespeak
What approach did you take to equipment?

Dan
My kit was pretty minimal because we were on the road but I knew I had enough storage and batteries to film everything. And then we would see what we had when we got back home.

cyclespeak
I’m guessing some decisions were made on the fly?

Dan
After we landed, we had a day’s drive to the start in Iquique. And on that drive I’d already decided to film some B roll with Tom wearing the same kit he’d be using in the race. So I had these shots in my head and we’d stop, hop out, do some filming before carrying on.

cyclespeak
It helped knowing you had these shots as back-up?

Dan
I knew that once the race got underway, I’d have no control over what time of day I could film. But funnily enough, the vast majority of that stuff was never used. The only shot I’m 100% certain we used was the opening scene at the bus stop. And Tom is getting up off the bench because a couple close-by were having a massive argument.

cyclespeak
So when the race finally started, you mentioned how you were filming everything?

Dan
Yes, but very quickly it was, fuck, this is so repetitive. Apart from the changing landscape, every leg and changeover looked the same. But I still had to be ready in case something did happen and—because it was repetitive—I had the luxury of maybe capturing something in a different way from how it had happened before. And Tom was the thread, so I knew that if I filmed everything he did, it would work out in the edit.

cyclespeak
So when do you start to pull the story together? As it’s happening or when you’re home and watching the footage?

Dan
I find it’s best to just park it for a month before starting the edit. Otherwise you’re just too close to the story. So after a few weeks I went up to stay with Tom in Manchester and we watched it all over again, in time order, and took three hours of footage down to about an hour. All the scenes we wanted to keep, we then story-boarded along this gradient of emotional intensity to keep the viewer engaged. And then in February, we went back out to Zero Neuf and did a little run camp. We ran before breakfast, sat down to edit and then ran again after lunch.

SYNRGY Training Camp


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cyclespeak
Now that you’ve been touring the finished film—and you’ve talked in some detail about the creative process—I was wondering where you seek inspiration?

Dan
I’m a sucker for print and there’s usually a pile of magazines close to hand. And on Instagram you do see interesting things. But, to be honest, I take photographs the way I want to take them.

cyclespeak
And that also applies when you’re working for a client?

Dan
Yeah, pretty much. I might get a brief but more often than not it’s comprised of imagery that I’ve shot previously.

cyclespeak
So they want you basically?

Dan
Generally that’s the way it works. And if the project doesn’t appeal, then it’s perhaps best to say no. Because even if it’s the best pay in the world, you’ll fuck it up or just not enjoy it.

cyclespeak
What’s your take on social media and living a life online?

Dan
You take Instagram for example. We’d be screwed in some respect if that platform suddenly ceased to exist. Because for many creatives, it’s super important. Most people have a website but what’s the first thing someone does when you mention a photographer or filmmaker?

cyclespeak
They check out their Instagram feed.

Dan
Exactly. And I wouldn’t be where I am today without Instagram. A lot of my connections have come from there. But it’s more than just taking a good photo.

cyclespeak
In what way?

Dan
You need to work well in a team. Like last year, I did loads of trail running photography. That came about because a brand sent me to shoot a race and that required me to work with other production teams. And we were on this mountain, in the middle of nowhere, and the videographer was up the trail. He’d left his tripod next to me, so I just picked it up and carried it with me. And he was over-the-moon which I found rather a surprising reaction because it didn’t seem like a particularly big deal. Isn’t it a given that you’d help look after someone’s gear?

cyclespeak
Obviously not [smiles].

Dan
Yeah, so working well in a team, not bringing the mood down, it’s all super important.

cyclespeak
From the outside looking in, people might assume that it’s an enviable career but I’m guessing there are challenges earning a living as a professional photographer?

Dan
Maybe I’m contradicting what I said earlier but if you’re freelance, it’s hard to say no. Because you don’t have contracts. Maybe a rough idea of the days you’ll be working but you never really know what it will look like next year. Whatever I earn now, I see as the most I’ll ever earn and that’s what I budget on.

Adidas Terrex Camp


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cyclespeak
So unless the job is really not your cup of tea, you say yes?

Dan
That’s about it. Unless you’re just starting out and you say yes to everything [laughs]. And that causes you to buy more gear so, basically, you need an overdraft and credit cards to be a freelance photographer.

cyclespeak
Travel is a necessity for your profession. So what does home mean to you?

Dan
There are many places where I feel at home. I feel at home when I’m at Zero Neuf. That’s where I feel my most relaxed. But in another sense, my family here is my home. And however I choose to define it, I have to be busy. Which is why I like to travel because my time is occupied.

cyclespeak
I’m not going to ask you to name your favourite images but do you find it easy to feel a sense of satisfaction in your work? Or is there always the next project?

Dan
I think I do. But maybe that satisfaction comes as much from the process as the final result. Knowing how you captured a particular photograph, the memories of that moment and the people involved.

cyclespeak
I’ve spoken to a number of creatives, from a wide range of disciplines, who are hyper critical about their work.

Dan
You do look back and notice how your style has evolved over time. Or you’ll see someone else’s photograph from the same race and ask yourself why you didn’t do it that way. But I don’t worry too much about it and it’s like me and Sean [Hardy] always say: job done, move on.

cyclespeak
I like that.

Dan
Over the week of UTMB* I’ll take thousands of photographs and 99.9% of them will never see the light of day. The sun might be in the wrong place or it looks shit. But that’s the job.

*Ultra Trail du Mont-Blanc

cyclespeak
You call it a job but, in an emotional sense, can you describe how it feels to raise your camera to the eye?

Dan
I always hold my camera. So it’s there, ready. And the process of taking a photo is almost instinctual. In terms of emotions, when you’re on the finish line of a bike race, it’s almost like a war. A real fight to hold your place in the scrum of photographers. But with running events, it’s a very different vibe. You have your allocated place, everyone is very respectful. Of course it took me a while to figure this out and I was standing in front of the TV cameras snapping away until I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder.

cyclespeak
Would you say there’s a transference of emotion from the subject, through the camera, to you?

Dan
It’s probably more accurate to say that holding the camera to my eye is masking my own emotions. I still have the same feelings but the camera allows me to hide.

cyclespeak
Why do you feel the need to hide these emotions?

Dan
My mate was getting married and asked if I would take some photos. And I don’t do weddings. But I still took my camera because it meant I wasn’t on show. Because some people like being the centre of attention but I like having a job to do.


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cyclespeak
And you’re more comfortable behind the camera?

Dan
When I was in Paris for the Olympics there was this Japanese couple taking photos on their phones. And I didn’t think twice about getting right up into their faces and taking a picture. But I would never do that in the UK.

cyclespeak
Why not?

Dan
Because, in Paris, there was no way we could communicate. In the UK, you wouldn’t get away with doing that.

cyclespeak
An argument would ensue?

Dan
Street photography is a lot easier when you can hide behind your lack of cultural understanding.

cyclespeak
So are you taking on a character when you pick up your camera? Disguising the real you?

Dan
It’s like going to work. And because I earn a living as a documentary photographer, my job is to document. So with that defined purpose comes a heightened sense of confidence. I know what I’m doing. Like I’m carrying a get-out-jail-free card.

cyclespeak
It’s fascinating how different people perceive the interactions we have in life. But then you bracket this with your ability to capture these moments.

Dan
With a camera in your hand, you’ve always got a reason to be there.

Photography with kind permission of Dan King / Feature image by Maurten

danking.cc

James Nord / Contradictions

It’s true that sometimes what you love about something can also be problematic.

Founder and CEO of Fohr—a company providing influencer marketing solutions—James Nord is perfectly placed to offer an opinion on our desire to be seen, and noticed, through the lens of social media. With his own Instagram feed revealing a penchant for fine tailoring but no stranger to 5:30 am laps around Central Park, James was racing for Rapha NYC back when the brand was busy tearing up the cycling rulebook. A thread of nostalgia that runs through a conversation exploring the contradictions in how we measure success, find fulfilment, and even the way we ride our bikes.

cyclespeak
You’re calling from the office. I’m guessing your schedule is pretty busy?

James
We’re based in Manhattan, on the Lower East Side, and have the whole floor of this early 1900s building. As for my schedule, it’s robust for sure [smiles].

cyclespeak
That’s conveniently located for your early morning Central Park laps?

James
My morning spins set me up for the day.

cyclespeak
Still with your deep-section race wheels whatever the weather?

James
I’m a one-bike household and if you’ve got something really nice to ride, why not ride it every day?

cyclespeak
To my English ear, your surname has European, possibly Baltic, undertones?

James
It’s Swedish. And here’s the cliché because the Scandinavian side of the family moved over to the US in the late 1800s and started a furniture company that operated in New York for going-on a century. And if they weren’t making furniture, they were preachers.

cyclespeak
Were you ever tempted to follow in their footsteps and become a furniture designer or a man of the cloth?

James
No, I was not [smiles]. Maybe because my Dad was the preacher’s kid who rebelled. I guess you go one of two ways.

cyclespeak
You’re the founder and CEO of Fohr and I was scrolling down the about section on your website where your colleagues are pictured.

James
I love looking at that page. And I remember the first time I met one of our board members, he talked about how we maybe only have a handful of people in our lives that help us achieve something. But here I am with what was 10, 20 and now approaching 100 individuals all dedicating a significant proportion of their intellectual and emotional energy in helping us grow this company. So when I see those portraits, I feel humbled. And it’s funny that immediately before jumping on this call, I was taking the headshots of our most recent starters.


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cyclespeak
I recently visited Rapha’s London HQ and they have a similar theme with a wall covered with headshots of all the various teams. And I know you have a long history with the brand—you raced for Rapha NYC back in the day—so you’ll be aware that every new employee is given a copy of The Rider by Tim Krabbé when they first join the company. If you were going to present a book to every starter at Fohr, what might it be?

James
That’s a good question. And funnily enough we’re in the process of working on one. But until that’s ready to roll out, I sit down with every new employee so we can chat about the history of the company and the challenges we’ve needed to overcome to get to where we are today. I guess you could describe it as trauma dumping [laughs].

cyclespeak
Those challenges were very real?

James
Grit is such a big part of any success story. And we’re super explicit about our values so that everybody knows what they are. It’s so much a part of what makes great companies, great.

cyclespeak
Does that resonate with your early involvement with Rapha?

James
The first 10 years of Rapha were so exciting because it felt like they had a really defined point of view and a set of values they truly lived. And I was very fortunate to feature in one of their shoots and got to see, first hand, the amount of resources they were willing to invest to get that content. That was when Ben Ingham was still shooting their campaigns on his film Leica and I remember he would make us ride for at least two hours before he’d even pick up the camera. He wanted to capture something real and, as we were over in Norway, riding in the snow, you can’t get more real than that.

cyclespeak
I watched a couple of the Insta rants in your saved stories. And I’m conscious that Instagram plays a big role in what Fohr as a company does. From your professional perspective, do people generally get Instagram?

James
What can be hard about being successful on digital platforms—something I personally struggle with and I’ve been posting since 2007 when I started my first blog—is that it works best when you’re very honest and share a lot. So, looking back, the content I made that resonated the most, was when I was a little lost and trying to figure out where I was going in life. Really raw and with total transparency.

cyclespeak
And now?

James
I have a hard time sharing like that anymore. My employees and my clients follow me and though I still have struggles to contend with, I just don’t feel comfortable playing that out in public. Which means that my content receives far less attention because I’m less willing to fully share what is happening in my life.

cyclespeak
I guess that’s how it plays out? Individuals build a following by living their life online?

James
It’s always compelling when someone is sharing an unfiltered view of their life. As opposed to a curated, once-a-week post that acts as an update. Which is absolutely fine but it’s not letting you in.

cyclespeak
Linking this theme of sharing with marketing, I guess the use of influencers by brands is to encourage a desire to have, to experience, to be. Could it be argued that desires are sometimes best left unfulfilled? Is wanting a more satisfying and interesting state of mind than having?

James
That’s an interesting way of seeing it. And I think the cyclist in me understands the value of delayed gratification. Because, for me, what is most exciting in life is growth. Something I need to constantly feel as I don’t believe you can stay in a set, neutral state. Either you’re growing and evolving or you’re shrinking in some way.


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cyclespeak
That suggests you’re quite driven as an individual?

James
You know how getting fit is so hard? You have to push yourself and go through the process before you achieve whatever goal you’ve set yourself. And the same is maybe true for life? Having big ambitions is going to set you up for a life of toil.

cyclespeak
But in a good way?

James
I sometimes notice a feeling—especially in our younger generations—that life should be more joyful and not so damned hard. An attitude I really respect but just isn’t my world view.

cyclespeak
No?

James
If you build your world around immediate gratification and joy—actively avoiding discomfort—then you’re never going to grow. But that’s not to say you shouldn’t enjoy the fruits of your labour. Something my Dad addressed recently when we were out on a walk and he questioned whether I was having enough fun.

cyclespeak
Was he correct in his assumption?

James
I guess maybe so [laughs]. He sees how hard I’m working and how focused I am on building this company. And because I have this ambitious set of goals, I’m conscious I need to check myself and make sure I’m not operating in a way where my life is only going to start once I have this certain level of success.

cyclespeak
Because there’s always more, isn’t there?

James
I was working with this coach and we were discussing what would happen if I sold the company for a life-changing amount of money. And they were asking what would happen next. What would I be doing? What would it look like?

cyclespeak
And how did you answer?

James
I reeled off this mental list that referenced a place in the country—upstate New York or over in Europe—and more time to write. But they pointed out that none of it had anything to do with selling the company. Okay, maybe the place in Europe is a stretch, but if I really wanted to start writing a book, what’s stopping me?

cyclespeak
There’s this delicate balance between being goal-oriented and seeing something and wanting it. And knowing when enough is enough? But maybe that’s how it always was and we’ve just never been so connected as we are now?

James
The internet—which I feel is an overwhelmingly positive and magical thing—does have this challenging aspect of expanding your neighbourhood. Before, when you were growing up and looking around, you would see what everyone at school and on TV was wearing, how they wore their hair, and it wasn’t that much of a struggle to follow the fashions and feel good about yourself. Whereas now, your internet neighbourhood has seen such a degree of lifestyle inflation that it’s easy to feel you’re lagging behind. And that creates a lot of anxiety and discontentment and it’s yet to be seen what the longer-term consequences will be. But probably not great [laughs].


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cyclespeak
Looking specifically at the bike industry, what are your insights into how cyclists respond to, value and desire particular brands?

James
I feel cycling is in such an interesting place right now. That the life has just drained out of the marketing side of things.

cyclespeak
I didn’t see that coming [laughs].

James
I have to acknowledge that some of this is on me—that my relationship with cycling is also changing—but over here in New York, run clubs are just blowing up. And this scene has all these super cool, small brands, they have races that start at 10:00pm over a half-marathon course that ends with a huge street party. So there’s this sense of fun, it’s all about community, and the marketing is super edgy.

cyclespeak
And cycling?

James
Cycling, for sure, had that moment but the sport continues to have a really exclusive, very snobby culture, and the barriers to entry are huge from a cost standpoint. It’s not like a run club hosting a social three-miler at a 10 minute pace and all you need to rock up is a pair of running shoes. How many people have signed up for an organised bike ride only to get dropped and feel like shit when the fast guys smash it?

cyclespeak
So how are cycling brands responding?

James
I just feel there’s a dearth in bike culture. Even Rapha needs a complete reset. Maybe Pas Normal are doing some interesting things but the scene doesn’t feel anywhere near as alive as it once did. Like everything is a little stagnant.

cyclespeak
I look at the content these small running brands are creating and, I agree, everything feels very edgy and exciting. With cycling media, there’s a tendency to see the same images on the same roads with the same types of models. So maybe storytelling is a way to reinvigorate their brand message? Which reminds me of when I first saw Gus Morton’s groundbreaking Outskirts films for Rapha. A hugely influential moment for me personally and greatly impacting how I continue to ride. Have you experienced any similar influences?

James
I was a runner, got medium fast when I was in my mid-twenties, and was working next to a high-end bike store with its walls adorned with Pinarello and Colnago frames. They had a cafe and I got into the habit of going in each day to get my coffee and I’d lust after all these beautiful bikes. And when Simon [Mottram] first launched Rapha with those iconic black and white portraits and the one jersey, this store was the only place in the US that carried the brand.

cyclespeak
So a connection was made?

James
I bought that Rapha jersey before I had a bike. And I watched those early Rapha Continental films and they inspired me to start a little thing called Deux North with my brother Dylan where we’d go out and film the adventures we were having by bike. So this period of my life was incredibly important and it was the storytelling—and especially the Rapha storytelling—that played such a crucial part in my journey.

cyclespeak
But the sport isn’t without its difficulties?

James
We’ve already touched on how cycling isn’t always that inclusive. And we’re all maybe a little guilty in that respect because it’s true that sometimes what you love about something can also be problematic. How there are these unspoken but very real rules about what to wear and how to wear it. The reasons we shave our legs and always take a picture of a bike from the drive side. But, to be honest, I love all that [laughs].

cyclespeak
But these can be barriers to entry into the sport just as much as the bike price tag?

James
The first group ride I ever went on was in late November when it’s cold in New York. I didn’t have any winter gear because it was too expensive so I showed up wearing a hooded ski jacket and running tights under my summer bibs. And I’m sure I looked like a complete idiot and I remember feeling awkward and embarrassed.

cyclespeak
I think we’ve all been there at one time or another [smiles].

James
I’d never ridden more than 20 miles before and this was a 50 or 60 mile loop. I didn’t understand the importance of fuelling so ended up massively bonking and getting dropped. And sometimes it’s our cycling traditions and the signals we send to each other that we’re serious and all in the same space, that can make it hard for people to break through and feel welcome.

cyclespeak
Very unfortunately, for many people that would have been their first and last group ride. But you decided to keep at it.


Click image to enlarge

James
I was hooked on the sport and determined to figure it out. And Rapha was there as an educator with the blog posts they created to explain the quirky, unspoken traditions and norms in cycling. I guess you could say I was all in and one bad experience wasn’t going to put me off. So I asked for the classic hardshell as a Christmas present and put the ski jacket back in the closet.

cyclespeak
You mentioned being a one-bike household and you ride for Trek with a race-ready Madone. But going by your penchant for a well-tailored suit, I can’t help wondering whether a custom steel bike would work very nicely for high days and holidays?

James
It’s definitely possible [laughs]. When I look at what Dan Craven is doing in Namibia with his Onguza bikes, I could see myself riding one of those. But living in New York and not having a garage, ultimately it comes down to space. And I’m also super into race bikes—the most ridiculous tricked-out version you can have—which is why I’m more than happy with my Madone.

cyclespeak
So what’s your most treasured cycling-related object?

James
My old Deux North jerseys hold some special memories. And I still have the first Rapha race jersey we wore that was similar in design to the Rapha Condor team kit. It has lettering up the side that spells out New York City and there are little flashes of Rapha pink. We were the only amateur Rapha team in the world and rolling around in that jersey, at that time, was pretty cool.

cyclespeak
Going back to those early days, Rapha pretty much reinvented the road scene. Which makes me wonder, if you were to sit down with the brand, what would you suggest from a marketing perspective moving forward?

James
That’s a good question. Because when they brought that first jersey to the market, their message was so simple set against a backdrop of super garish kit that everyone was wearing. And I’m not suggesting that they simply go back to stripping away all the design elements of the current product range. But there’s still such an importance attached to good storytelling—something Rapha did exceedingly well—so maybe they could help support the current crop of key players in cycle culture in taking that narrative forward?

cyclespeak
Looking at the States, the road scene appears to be really struggling. Whereas gravel continues to explode in popularity?

James
I love road racing but it’s so dangerous and we’re losing races all over the country. Even here in New York which has long enjoyed an incredible bike racing culture and you could easily race four times a week.

cyclespeak
And now?

James
The Tuesday and Thursday crits were raced on this abandoned airfield out in Brooklyn but that space isn’t available anymore. Central Park and Prospect Park are both trying to kick the bike racers out. And then, when you zoom out on the scene as a whole, it’s so hard for promoters to cover their costs. Which is why it’s perhaps unsurprising how we’ve seen a rise in gravel events which, by their very nature, don’t demand road closures. And the roads in America have their own dangers. A lot of people are taking up gravel or mountain biking to avoid being taken out by a three ton truck driven by someone on their phone.


Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
So taking all these various aspects of cycling as a sport—the negatives but also the overwhelmingly positive—can I ask why you, yourself, continue to ride?

James
I always joke that riding a bike is my gym, my church, my yoga studio. And that’s all balanced by a job that’s quite intense but no one wants to hear from a CEO whining about the challenges of the profession they chose to enter.

cyclespeak
I wouldn’t suggest that you’re complaining. Just giving a balanced account of the realities of building a company from the ground up?

James
I guess growth always takes its toll and it can be lonely to lead from the front. Which is why—every single time I’m in a bad mood or I’ve had a difficult day—when I throw a leg over a bike and go out for a ride, I always feel better. It’s time away from the phone, an opportunity to let my mind wander, it’s the one selfish act in my schedule where no-one else is benefiting apart from me.

[pause]

And maybe my wife. Because I’m not so grumpy.

cyclespeak
Which has to be a good thing [smiles].

James
It’s interesting how the sport attracts this really interesting and diverse group of people. My colleagues at Fohr always joke about the cycling illuminati and wonder why so many of my friends that ride bikes are also super successful in their chosen field.

cyclespeak
And how do you answer them?

James
I guess it’s the mindset that it takes to do this sport. Being able to commit and put in the work to achieve whatever goals you set yourself. And it’s a way to grow friendships that aren’t forged around drinking; which in New York is the way it’s largely always been done.

cyclespeak
And these friendships are important?

James
If you have a friend who you regularly ride with, you might spend 10 hours a week with them, talking about everything: the problems they’re having at work, what’s going on with their partners or kids, if they’re excited or worried about something. You build these super deep relationships where you get to explore your hopes, dreams, even your fears. And that’s a very cool thing and so central to my life that it isn’t even a choice. Riding a bike is almost like breathing—something I just have to do.

Images with kind permission of James Nord / Feature image by Tracy L Chandler

fohr.co

Pete Stetina / Return for the dirt

Kicking off with Lachlan Morton’s win at Unbound, the Life Time Grand Prix three years in, and the realities of campaigning a privateer gravel calendar, Pete Stetina then gets down to business with a fascinating look back at his first tilt at the TRAKA 360—arguably Europe’s premier gravel event.

Despite a series of mechanical mishaps and a race route ripped apart by a week of heavy rain, his refusal to throw in the towel saw him push through for the win. A truly remarkable result that Pete describes, blow-by-blow, before squaring up to decide which race takes the title of biggest, baddest, hardest of all.


cyclespeak
You’re calling from California?

Pete
I am. Back home in Santa Rosa.

cyclespeak
After racing Unbound last weekend?

Pete
My result was a little bit of a disappointment but nothing really went wrong that I can point to. I made the right moves at the right moments and was in the group with Mattia de Marchi chasing after Lachlan—we got to within a minute at 60km to go—when my stomach flipped upside down, the lights went out like never before, and I just had to nurse it home. But that’s bike racing for you and my friend Lachlan is such a worthy winner.

cyclespeak
I did note your time for this year’s race. 9:22:57. A few years back, that would have seen you finishing in first place with time to spare?

Pete
That’s the same story for every race on the calendar. Winning times are tumbling by huge margins. I guess you can factor in better fuelling and equipment but the conditions at this year’s Unbound were also nigh on perfect. There was a little rain in the days leading up to the start—everyone, myself included, freaking out about the chance of mud—but then it dried up just enough to make the going super fast.

cyclespeak
The whole world seemed to cheer when Lachlan crossed the finish line. And I was reminded of the post he made leading up to Unbound when he mentioned being more focused on enjoyment and not getting caught up with what everyone else was doing. Does that resonate with how you yourself prepare for a big race?

Pete
It’s how I try to do a lot of it now. Guys like myself and Lachy have been racing professionally for a long time and understand that the best road to success is to play it our way. The way that Lachlan raced Unbound was perfect for him. It’s not like everyone else can go out and replicate those moves. He had to go from a long way out because he’s such a diesel these days and maybe doesn’t have the same sprint as a Keegan or a Van Avermaet. So he played to his strengths and did it on his terms.


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cyclespeak
Last time we chatted it was very early in 2022 and the inaugural year for the Life Time Grand Prix. Now that the series is firmly established, what’s your take on how it’s continuing to influence professional gravel racing?

Pete
I feel the US still leads the way in the world of gravel—where it’s most prolific and you can enjoy the best career financially—and the Life Time series is the pre-eminent representation of this way of racing. Saying that, if a European rider goes to their sponsor and says they want to race the Grand Prix, I do wonder how much that sponsor particularly cares? I know the pro road mentality—it’s what I did for 10 years—and the World Tour only really cares about the World Tour.

cyclespeak
We did see UCI Gravel Champion and current World Tour pro Matej Mohoric race Unbound this year?

Pete
Gravel as a whole is gaining more respect but that’s still race by race. Unbound is Unbound and that’s where everyone wants to come, so you do have this influx of people. But does the global community care as much about Chequamegon or Crusher in the Tushar?

cyclespeak
Fast forward to 2024 and you took an early season win at BWR* Utah; a race series in which you’ve enjoyed considerable success over the past few years with multiple victories. Can you put your finger on what it is about BWR that drives this winning streak?

*Belgian Waffle Ride

Pete
That’s a good question.

[pauses]

I guess it plays out a little differently to the Grand Prix and just suits how I like to ride. Maybe more road race tactics which is where I come from. And BWR is more of a hybrid in terms of surface. Yes, there’s single track but mixed in with a fair amount of pavement and the organiser always likes to throw in a climb towards the end that creates separation. But at the end of the day, it’s a case of good vibes and confidence.

cyclespeak
That’s a good mix.

Pete
I’ve won three BWR Utah titles so I guess you could say I’ve got that one figured out.


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cyclespeak
I was scrolling through your 2019 results when you were riding in the World Tour with Trek-Segafredo—but still took second at Unbound—and it struck me that, according to procyclingstats, you had 80 race days that year compared to 12 in 2023. And maybe this is rather a simplistic comparison but which was the harder year?

Pete
I’m going to spin that question and start off by saying I raced almost 30 times in 2023. I guess procyclingstats is attempting to understand gravel but what qualifies as an official gravel race in their mind? Here in California we have the Grasshoppers but maybe they’re viewed as a regional series even though the field is deep.

cyclespeak
So how do you define a race?

Pete
Anytime I pin on a number. Because you know you’re going to go as deep as you can on that day. And going back to your question, you look at my schedule and there’s only 30 days of racing compared to the 80 I did in the World Tour. But it probably equates to the same amount of travel commitment. And that’s the metric, right? The hardest aspect we have to balance with our loved ones. Because now, I’m primarily a one-day racer and travelling almost every weekend.

cyclespeak
Maybe even travelling more than when you were racing the World Tour?

Pete
What I think you’re seeing, is that the riders with a road background are used to that. And maybe we use the smaller events to race into form? Whereas there are other riders who only roll up to the key races when they feel 100% prepared and primed.

cyclespeak
You’re racing gravel in the top tier, yet seem to relish the regional races just as much as Unbound or Leadville?

Pete
A couple of years back, I felt I was getting pulled back into that high performance, elite-only points chase. And what I was maybe forgetting, was the reason I left the World Tour was to pursue a more fulfilling, holistic race career. So I needed to take a step back and make the conscious decision for my own internal harmony to do it my way. A sentiment I feel Lachlan addressed really well in a recent interview where he contrasted the high octane, marginal gains of the gravel world to his own World Tour days.

cyclespeak
So what does your way look like?

Pete
I can’t do good vibes only and go out to the brewery on the evening before a big race—I still need to ride hard—but I can choose to balance key events like Unbound with the smaller races where I can enjoy the relaxed atmosphere and hang out with the community.

cyclespeak
I was chatting to Sarah Sturm recently and she was quite open about wanting to mix things up race-wise after finding the Grand Prix series a little repetitive. Are these considerations you yourself share? And did they play into your decision to cross the Atlantic to race the TRAKA?

Pete
I love the Grand Prix and what they’re doing for pro-racing in the US but they’re not the only show in town. You’ve got Mid South, Steamboat, BWR and TRAKA, to name but a few, that are all super relevant. So I can’t just give myself solely to the Grand Prix because there’s just too much cool shit going on and I want to do it all.

cyclespeak
This was your first time racing the TRAKA but you spent time living and training out of Girona during your World Tour days?

Pete
I lived in Girona way back in 2007 before it became such a cycling hotspot. So it was quite an eye-opening experience returning. The city is still beautiful and great for a week’s visit but I wouldn’t want to live there now.


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cyclespeak
No?

Pete
I love to ride and race but don’t want to be reminded of that 24/7. Saying that, it was really fun to return because I’d never really ridden dirt in Girona.

cyclespeak
I guess when you were living there, it never occurred to you to try it?

Pete
Gravel wasn’t even a thing, back then. So I guess you could say this was my return for the dirt. And to stay in the same hotel where I always used to crash was such good fun. The final third of my career—when I was constantly going back and forth between Europe and the States—I got rid of my apartment. So I literally had a suitcase waiting in the storage closet of the Hotel Historic that I would open up when I rolled into town. And that still feels like my Catalan family.

cyclespeak
You were down to race the 360km route which has 3700m of climbing and is notoriously super gnarly. Leaving aside for a moment the weather conditions, were there any changes in preparation you made compared to your US races?

Pete
Not really. I’m naturally a climber so tend to race better when it’s a harder, hillier course. The only change I made to my training was sprinkling in quite a few more seven to nine hour rides a couple of months out. Trying to normalise that long, long distance in the saddle.

cyclespeak
Girona had been suffering from a severe drought leading up to the TRAKA. But then during race week, the rain was monsoon-like leading to the organisers first delaying and then cancelling the XL race. Can you talk me through the days leading up to the start of your race? Were you able to recon much of the route and did the uncertainty upset your race preparation?

Pete
Honestly, I think you can draw a parallel between my TRAKA and Lachlan’s Unbound. In the sense that we both took our foot off the gas and tried not to stress over the small stuff.

cyclespeak
How so?

Pete
You have riders that know the TRAKA course super well and have raced it on multiple occasions. But then suddenly the weather is throwing a wrench into everyone’s race preparation. I show up and there’s no way I can recce 360km within three days and be rested for the race. So I decided to ride the final 120km with my friend and coach Dennis van Winden and call it good. As things played out, a blessing in disguise as that last section is so darn twisty that it helps to know the key turns.

cyclespeak
You knew you didn’t have extensive experience at riding dirt in this region. But, on the other hand, felt confident in your ability to do well in BWR style races. When you finally lined up at 6:00am on race day, did it cross your mind that you could take the win?

Pete
On paper I guess I was one of the contenders. And I heard some comments about how the Americans were finally coming over to race. But I was very aware that other riders were much better prepared for this particular race than I was. I’d raced BWR California a week before—that result sealing my Triple Crown—and then straight away hopped on an international flight without really having any time to rest and recover. So not having the perfect build-up—in any shape or form—if I’d have stressed about all the small stuff I would have just psyched myself out completely.

cyclespeak
I guess that comes with experience? The ability to take that mental step back. Because going by your posts after crossing the finish line, it’s safe to say you had quite an eventful day?

Pete
Starting out, the first 60km was honestly quite stressful. Thankfully it had stopped raining but the mud was insane. And the conditions were just compounded by all these young riders who were so hungry, they just charged through irrespective of following the best line. I couldn’t tell how deep the puddles were. Some were only a couple of centimetres but others were, quite literally, half a metre.

cyclespeak
That sounds super chaotic.

Pete
Those guys didn’t seem to worry if there was a hidden rock waiting to take out their wheel. Their mindset was, fuck it, I’m going to send through it. Taking insane risks and just destroying their bikes in the process. And I was getting so beat up in the scrum that eventually I just had to commit and follow. Until eventually the attrition whittled the group down to about 15 or so riders after two hours of racing.


Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Where was this in relation to the race route?

Pete
At this point we were crossing the flatlands heading north towards the first aid station. Everyone kind of called a truce so I decided that was a good moment to take a comfort break. But as I pushed on to catch up to the group, a rock sniped my rear wheel and the tyre went fully flat in an instant. I jumped off and tried to plug the thing but there was mud everywhere so I was struggling to even find the hole. After throwing in three plugs it still wasn’t sealing, my gear was strewn out all over the trail, and that’s when I noticed the rock had punctured the bead of the tyre at the rim.

cyclespeak
What happened next?

Pete
After throwing in another two plugs, the tyre was finally holding air and I set off to chase down the group. Glancing at my Wahoo, I could see that I was down by six minutes. So I’m thinking, crap, this is a problem.

cyclespeak
So you’re chasing on hard?

Pete
We were about 20km from the aid station and I was just hoping the pace of the group would stay steady. So I went all in, time-trialling, and finally reached the aid station where my friend and mechanic Big Tall Wayne checked over my rear wheel. It was still holding air so we decided to leave well alone. Rob Britton—who’d also punctured and was chasing back on—serendipitously was leaving the aid station at the same time. We go way back, there’s a lot of mutual respect, and we decided to work together to try and bridge up to the front group. I honestly thought it was a big ask but we’d both travelled over from North America and packing it in after three hours was never going to happen.

cyclespeak
I guess the effort it took to even get to the start line means you’re committed.

Pete
We were riding as a two-man team and sharing the load when, unfortunately, I had more problems with the mud. It was acting like a lubricant and causing my seat post to slip so I had to stop another two times to unpack a multi-tool and adjust my ride position. By all intents and purposes, it was turning into a complete mess of a day.

cyclespeak
But you managed to bridge up to Rob again?

Pete
I caught up with him right before the hike-a-bike section and I could see the lead group away in the distance. Self-timing the gap, I had them around eight minutes ahead. And it was here that we entered what I like to refer to as the doldrums. Heading south across the coastal plains into a block headwind: it was slow, it was hot, it was late in the day. And that’s where we kept passing the odd rider or two—absolutely destroyed—that had been shelled from the front. So beat up, they couldn’t even hang with me and Rob and take a pull.

cyclespeak
The chase was on.

Pete
But it was here that I really started to suffer. I’d been rationing water and was rapidly becoming dehydrated—still taking a turn but my lights were starting to flicker—whereas Rob was still strong. But about 20km from the second aid stop, we caught sight of the lead group and that gave me the lift I needed. That was never supposed to happen—chasing down an eight minute gap—but we were back in the race.

cyclespeak
And then after the aid stop?

Pete
We resupplied as fast as possible—boom, boom, boom—and charged out the other side as one group. Approaching the climbs after Corçà, Rob and I both knew this was the break point of the race. And sure enough, everyone dropped off leaving just three of us. Rob, myself and Mattia de Marchi; three time TRAKA winner.

cyclespeak
Exalted company.

Pete
Mattia attacked—as you’d expect—but only gained 15 or so seconds on the climb. I then took a few risks on the descent, caught up with Mattia but distanced Rob. And I just felt—after riding together for so long and so far—that it wasn’t fair to screw him over. Mattia races with such a sense of honour that we both eased up a little and allowed Rob to latch on. The fourth place rider was way back so we all knew that this was the podium. And then, as things sometimes have a way of playing out, a stick kicked up and ripped off Mattia’s rear derailleur. The worst luck in the shape of a total random act and his day was done.

cyclespeak
Which just left the two of you.

Pete
There was 60km to go and we both felt flabbergasted—completely dumbfounded—that we were sitting in first and second place. But as each of us tried to picture how it would play out, it gradually became evident that Rob’s bigger gears were starting to take a toll. We both knew the final move would be on the hill outside of Sant Gregori and that’s where I hit it with everything I had and was able to bring it home.


Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
What a day!

Pete
Placing first was incredible but there were also all these other silver linings that made it feel equally special. Having my oldest Catalan friends helping out Big Tall Wayne as my pit crew and all of Canyon’s top brass waiting at the finish line. This weird set of circumstances that played out over three hundred plus kilometres.

cyclespeak
And then it was time to celebrate?

Pete
When you race that hard and for that long, your body is in full revolt. You can’t go out and party.

cyclespeak
Not even a little party?

Pete
We went to a bar, ate some good food, and that was me done. And I was still pretty wrecked the next day. Sleeping in until 11:00am before breakfasting on two espressos and a beer.

cyclespeak
The response must have been overwhelming?

Pete
Since the finish, I’ve received so many calls and messages. And I guess that’s when the enormity sets in. I knew TRAKA was a big race but kind of didn’t understand how big.

cyclespeak
‘The biggest, the baddest, the hardest of all.’ That was a comment you made in a podcast in reference to Unbound. Now that you’ve ridden, and won, the Traka 360, are you still sticking to that statement?

Pete
I still feel that Unbound is the biggest.

[pause]

But I don’t think it’s the baddest or the hardest.

cyclespeak
No?

Pete
Unbound is the OG. The granddaddy of this whole space. But now the collective professional field is so good at racing 200 miles of Kansas gravel that—setting aside my stomach issues—this edition was my easiest Unbound.

cyclespeak
And the TRAKA?

Pete
Let’s just say that I’ve done enough bike racing to question whether these fairytales ever happen for me. And even though I’ve enjoyed my fair share of success, nothing compares to how this race played out. So crossing the line, I knew something special had just happened.

Peter Stetina / peterstetina.com

Feature image by kind permission of Alex Roszko for Orange Seal / All other imagery individually credited

Sarah Sturm / The coolest job ever

Instantly recognisable for her beaming smile, raucous laughter and even the occasional tear, off-road racer Sarah Sturm is a living, breathing embodiment of what-you-see-is-what-you-get. But dig a little deeper, and there’s an intriguing sense of quiet introspection that contrasts her doggedness and determination.

Talking over a call from her home in Colorado—Sarah’s dog Norman keeping her company—this complex and questioning performance athlete offers her unfiltered views on the highs and lows of the gravel world, the inherently selfish nature of the sport, and the way she balances the emotional strain of a life lived in public.


cyclespeak
You’re just back from the West Coast. It looked like an amazing trip but not without its moments?

Sarah
I was just talking with a friend about my norovirus experience. Equal parts shitty—quite literally—but also so, so funny. And my coach decided it was toughness training because I kept on riding [laughs].

cyclespeak
Because, initially, you suspected food poisoning?

Sarah
I really thought it was. But then on day three, my friend Maude also came down with the same symptoms. So we were trying to work out what just the two of us had done that was different to the rest of the group.

cyclespeak
Considering you were quite poorly, you got in some miles.

Sarah
California is a crazy place. Just insane. It’s got all these tech bros and rich people but it’s also really beautiful and I can totally understand why so many people want to live there.

cyclespeak
You were riding down the coast?

Sarah
Yep. From San Francisco to Santa Barbara and then I kept on to LA. I ate well on the first day but for the remainder of the trip, with my tummy troubles, I existed on a single banana and a PayDay bar.

cyclespeak
But you’ve made it back to Colorado in one piece. And I’m guessing Norm was pleased to see you. I can just see his ears poking up in the corner of your screen. Is he the sort of dog who likes to be near you?

Sarah
All the time. It’s why we hang out in an old school bus. Otherwise, I would drive my Honda to the races [laughs].

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
So you live in Durango?

Sarah
That’s right. I’m back for a bit before I pop down to Arizona where the winter weather is a little kinder. It’s very affordable to stay and, unlike LA, less like a Disneyland for adults.

cyclespeak
Talking about affordability, I was planning on visiting a friend in Boulder and was pricing up some accommodation. Seriously expensive.

Sarah
I’m only spending $800 for a month in Tucson. And you’re right. Boulder is insane. There’s no way I could afford to live there. Unless we park up in the bus [laughs].

cyclespeak
So, at home in Durango, are you a cycling gear all hung up in colour-coordinated rows, kind of person?

Sarah
I’m going to say yes but only because my fiancé Dylan is extremely organised in his role as my equipment manager. So his desire for neatness and efficiency is kind of forced upon me; for my remaining career and our future marriage.

cyclespeak
Have you set the date?

Sarah
We have. At the end of my season in November which is a funny time to get married in Colorado.

cyclespeak
A weather risk?

Sarah
Yes! You’ll need to be tough and bring a jacket.

cyclespeak
Because you first met Dylan when you were both studying design at college. But I believe your graphic design business is currently on hold whilst you focus 100% on racing?

Sarah
I was kind of phasing out of it, to be honest. I love being creative and I was already starting to make my cycling life into this creative space as opposed to working for clients. Part of being a freelance designer is listening to a client’s shitty ideas and then getting it done because you want and need money. But cycling has been my main source of income for the past six years. So—very fortunately—I was able to move on from that aspect of my life. But I still get to design my bike and helmet paint schemes.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Speaking of creativity, could you talk a little about the kiss-the-baby thing?

Sarah
I know [laughs]. It’s so weird. And you’re not missing out on anything.

cyclespeak
Because I saw your SSCXWC + Sarah Sturm video and loved it…

Sarah
That’s the venue we’re looking at for our wedding.

cyclespeak
But it’s basically a deserted hill top.

Sarah
Yep. It’s the mesa above Durango.

cyclespeak
With gopher holes.

Sarah
Norm loves it. But he’s never got a gopher. Anyways, back to kiss-the-baby. I began racing in cyclocross which I really loved.

cyclespeak
The races are a lot shorter in duration than the gravel scene?

Sarah
It’s shorter races, it’s not as much training, and it’s just so much fun. Then there’s the crowd which—outside the start / finish line—you don’t really get at a gravel event. Admittedly cyclocross is a little random and not always easy to explain when the person sitting next to you on a plane asks what you do.

cyclespeak
How do you answer?

Sarah
I just say it’s a better version of the Tour de France.

cyclespeak
That seems fair [laughs].

Click image to enlarge

Sarah
Anyway, I digress. The kiss-the-baby thing started at the US Single Speed Cross Nationals one year. They had this feature where we rode up a ramp and through this junk trailer packed with people throwing things at you. Trust me, it’s a disgusting, rambunctious, not-good-for-your-health experience of athleticism [laughs]. Someone in that trailer—almost certainly super hammered—had these old baby dolls and insisted on jamming them in our faces, yelling, “Kiss the baby,” before you could pass.

cyclespeak
Okay. That makes absolute sense [smiles].

Sarah
And then. And this is not exactly a great memory for me. Not particularly a shining moment. So, kids, don’t do this.

cyclespeak
That’s fair warning.

Sarah
So I was so super intoxicated after only eating a packet of oatmeal in the morning, finishing my race, and then cheering on the men whilst drinking shots, that I got hold of the dolls and started to yell, “Kiss the baby,” too. And now it returns to haunt me at every single race. Which is a very long way of explaining why I was glueing tiny dolls heads onto my race number in the video. Not a move that my bike sponsor Specialized saw coming [laughs].

cyclespeak
I’d love to be a fly on the wall at their brand liaison meeting.

Sarah
Oh my God, yes! And that’s after cutting so much from the final version of the film.

cyclespeak
We see glimpses of it in the video and I know people love to talk about your school bus but I’m a little confused by the terms you use in the States for these types of vehicles. It took five minutes talking to Alex Howes—admittedly a very enjoyable five minutes—to finally figure out that the travel trailer he was sleeping in at races was what we, in England, call a caravan.

Sarah
Oh, I get you. It’s totally confusing. It’s like when we say sprinter van—which should really only apply to a Mercedes—but we’re referencing a Ford or a Dodge.

cyclespeak
In England, we have what we call white-van man. Named because most commercial vehicles are painted white—the cheapest colour option—and are often driven terribly. So when you’re out in your school bus, do other drivers make assumptions and give you a wide berth?

[Sarah laughs]

Sarah
Because of the wrap—the design I did is very colourful—I do wonder whether people think we have children onboard. So that’s perhaps the reason they give us extra space? But then we drive past and they see all the bikes attached on the back and assume we’re just this bunch of hippies.

cyclespeak
It does have a little of that vibe. Maybe it’s the shape?

Sarah
Dylan saw it advertised on Facebook Marketplace and it was only an hour from here and affordable.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
I read somewhere that you didn’t actually get the bus for bike racing?

Sarah
We bought it because of Norman. A portable camp, kitchen and bed with space for him to stretch out. It was never meant to be driven to Unbound. But as things turned out, we’ve driven it the length and breadth of the west side of the US. And let me just put this on the record; it is not a comfortable vehicle for that kind of journeying.

cyclespeak
No?

Sarah
It’s so loud—Dylan will sit up front wearing ear protectors—but somehow me and my 70-year-old mother drove straight across the country in it and she was listening to an audiobook on tape. Unbelievable [laughs].

cyclespeak
It certainly catches the eye.

Sarah
It has its quirks but I love it. And we’re currently in the process of getting a more race friendly, super-functional vehicle but every ad that I forward to Dylan looks really similar to the bus we already own.

cyclespeak
You use the term super-functional. Which leads me nicely onto the level of team support that seems required to be competitive in the gravel racing world nowadays? An inevitability of gravel’s popularity which should therefore be embraced? Or does it disenfranchise the privateer who has a limited budget and is balancing their racing with a full-time job?

Sarah
This is such a good question. And it was inevitable, right?

cyclespeak
Maybe because there’s more money being made available?

Sarah
I’m going to make a big statement here. But they’re my friends so I can say this.

cyclespeak
Go for it.

Sarah
Back in 2019 when I won BWR*, Keegan and Sofia were still racing mountain bikes and they would tease me by calling gravel a retirement sport. But now they’re both racing the Lifetime Grand Prix and are two of the most hardworking professionals I know. They’ve been racing since forever, bring with them all this experience, and have raised the bar to where we presently see gravel racing. And when someone ups the ante, others follow.

*Belgian Waffle Ride

cyclespeak
I guess a very different situation to when you first rolled up at that start line in 2019?

Sarah
It was just me and the bike that Specialized had given me to ride. There was no-one waiting in the feed zones for me, I had my pockets stuffed with sandwiches, and didn’t know shit about gravel. But now, everyone is at this insane level of training and prep, and that, in turn, means you need a crew and a mechanic.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
For the past two years you’ve had your own little team with Ellen Campbell. And I understand that you both race independently but can you talk about the dynamic of how this all works in terms of your personalities?

Sarah
I used to coach Ellen when she was 14. And we work really well together because we’re super opposite. I’m a little more sporadic and Ellen is super organised and logical [laughs]. The gravel world is difficult to break into unless you have a huge result so me bringing Ellen onto our team was always with the goal of mentoring the privateer life. I want to leverage the connections I’ve made and introduce Ellen to these people.

cyclespeak
Sought of semi-seriously but does Norman give you a race edge?

Sarah
Hmmm. That’s an interesting question. And I do know I’m always incredibly excited to see Dylan and Norm at the end of an event. This year at Unbound specifically—which was an horrific experience—I remember riding the last 10 miles and just wanting to finish so I could give them a hug.

cyclespeak
There’s a great photograph taken at Unbound that captures the moment when you first realise you’ve finished in third place.

Sarah
Looking back at my athletic career, that was definitely one of the highlights. Because Unbound is basically our Tour de France, right? It’s a big event and it’s so hard to keep track of where you’re placing out on the course. So it was a lovely surprise.

cyclespeak
We’ve already mentioned your breakout win at BWR in 2019. Have you changed since then as a racer?

Sarah
I guess one way of putting it—and I’ve learnt a lot—is that I’ve had to adapt. Because the level that we’re now racing at has just gone…

cyclespeak
Stratospheric?

Sarah
Yes! Like when I got to line up at the UCI Gravel World Champs with the winner of last year’s Tour de France Femmes. Together with everyone who is anyone and that includes some seriously big names from the World Tour.

cyclespeak
Is it fair to say they’re coming to gravel from a different pathway?

Sarah
I’m racing against women who have been to the Olympics. They’ve raced mountain bikes and road at a super high level. Whereas I grew up playing soccer and doing martial arts and my race resume is pretty much gravel. So I’m actually quite proud of myself and the work I’ve put in. I’ve even hired a nutritionist because I realised how I was only eating half the carbs I needed to race at the front [laughs].

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
You placed fourth in the 2023 Lifetime Grand Prix and I’m conscious that—unlike the majority of people’s jobs—every single up and down happens under the full scrutiny of your sport and community. Does that bring with it a certain pressure to perform? And if so, how do you stay so smiley?

Sarah
Probably because I think sport is so silly [laughs]. Because at the end of the day, even if you’re the best athlete in the world, what are you actually contributing? What are you gifting to this existence we have as humans? Yes, I understand that it can be inspiring. But it’s also absolutely selfish. All these people wearing these ridiculous outfits, riding this outlandish piece of equipment, and one of them is the fastest and wins. And that’s an accomplishment?

cyclespeak
Can I suggest that many people would say, “Yes, it is.”

Sarah
Maybe you’re right. Because it’s not nihilism [laughs] but I do question what it’s all about. And I think that—because I like to have fun—people just assume I hop on my bike and casually ride around Durango in the off-season and just party and ski with my friends. But that is not the case. I have a training plan. I check in with my coach every single day. I lift heavy weights. I even put them back [laughs].

cyclespeak
Maybe, like many of us, you’re just searching for some answers?

Sarah
I go through extreme highs and very low lows. Last year’s Leadville, for example, was rough. And that’s so stupid. In the grand scheme of things, Leadville doesn’t really matter. But I allowed myself to feel so sad when I fell short of my self-imposed goal. And it’s not like I’m out there saving lives.

cyclespeak
So why put yourself through it?

Sarah
Because being an athlete is the coolest job ever but also one of the most stressful; in that it’s almost impossible to detangle your self-worth from a result. But I do wonder if that’s how we are wired. That even if we didn’t have the same level of scrutiny over our day jobs—if you took all the photos, videos and fandom out of it—we’d still be super competitive?

cyclespeak
You must need a certain something that drives you, to even contemplate rolling up to a start line?

Sarah
Or something wrong with you to keep pushing after you’ve peed in your pants [laughs].

cyclespeak
Really? It’s now so competitive that there’s no time to even stop for a comfort break?

Sarah
Yep. It’s crazy.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
You’re perhaps questioning the positive impact from racing and I don’t want to disagree with you…

Sarah
Oh, please do [laughs].

cyclespeak
But scrolling through all the comments on your posts, it’s clear that you inspire countless people through your racing.

Sarah
I love that people take the time to comment on a post or say hi at the races. And it amazes me that people care what I do and how I do it.

cyclespeak
So who do you follow that inspires you?

Sarah
Demi Vollering springs to mind. Watching her win last year’s Tour de France Femmes was so inspiring.

cyclespeak
And then she got third at the UCI Gravel Champs.

Sarah
These women just have insane power. It’s unreal. But watching them, it did make me realise that I might not have the same cornering skills on the road, but get me on a sketchy, gravel descent and I can probably pass them [laughs].

cyclespeak
In your film for Wahoo—It’s supposed to be fun—you talk about some of the highs and lows of what is a long, long season. Sitting eating pre-race oatmeal in tears at four in the morning or shakedown rides with Ellen filled with chatter and laughter. Quite a range of emotions to contend with?

Sarah
I’m gradually learning to cope a lot better. And I probably had less pre-race nerves during my second year on the Grand Prix. The first year I was seriously questioning if I belonged and whether everyone would see what a fraud I was. So, yeah, looking back at that first Grand Prix year, I was in tears before Unbound and absolutely terrified. Which, as things turned out, was completely justified as the start was so scary. But in the second year, it was a different ballgame. Stiffer competition but I had a bit more confidence.

cyclespeak
You did mention in a recent interview that the Grand Prix series can get a little boring? I guess doing events like the Traka helps to keep things fresh?

Sarah
Totally. But I still want to do the Grand Prix again because this is my job and that’s where most of the media is centred. But the very nature of a race series is you end up repeating the same events. So there’s this context to deal with. In your head you know you finished in this position last year so if you do worse than that, you’re going to feel crummy.

cyclespeak
So the Traka…

Sarah
I just needed something new. A different level of pressure because I wasn’t counting points as I crossed the finish line. Not that I do my own mental maths because my Dad does it for me.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
You came in a strong second at the Traka behind an on-fire Amity Rockwell. Riding 390 km of challenging parcours in 15 hours and 46 minutes. Which if you think about it, is kind of crazy?

Sarah
I know. And I’m doing it again this year [laughs].

cyclespeak
That route is so hard.

Sarah
And last year, I flew into Girona right after Sea Otter. I didn’t know the course because there wasn’t an opportunity to pre-ride. And I’d got it into my head that outside support wasn’t allowed; not realising that wasn’t the case until the day before the race. So we pivoted and Dylan was waiting for me at the feed stops. But I still managed to run out of water and I was nauseous for so much of that day.

cyclespeak
Your sponsor Osprey pulled together a brilliant film of your Traka experience—well worth a watch—which really conveyed how brutal the race was. And I recognised the garden of your hotel because that’s where I stay in Girona. You were building up your bike with Dylan next to the wooden pergola where I hang up my bib shorts to dry.

Sarah
I’m sure they love seeing all your laundry [laughs].

cyclespeak
An important question. Did you try the hotel buffet?

Sarah
I did!

cyclespeak
My friend—every time we stay there—tells me he’s going to go steady and not eat too much but then just can’t resist.

Sarah
That’s how I am with any buffet. Pre-race or not.

cyclespeak
Before the race, you joined Sami Sauri on one of her Women’s Collective rides. It looked like seriously good fun.

Sarah
Rather than worrying about my lack of race prep, I got to talk and ride with all these cool women. Something I never usually get to do. And I had such a great week in Girona. We ate out every night—which purely from a performance standpoint is less than ideal—but it’s cheap in Europe and I like going to dinner with my friends.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Is this engagement outside of racing something you find fulfilling? Because in your Wahoo film you talk about mentorship and you’ve already mentioned how you used to coach Ellen.

Sarah
Yes, is the short answer. And although I’m not exactly great at organising stuff, I love connecting with people authentically. But being a bike racer is so selfish—it has to be—so having a dog and prioritising my relationship with Dylan is about as much as I can handle at the moment. But moving forward, as my career progresses, it would be good to do some cool, fun things with other people.

cyclespeak
Speaking of cool, fun things—and returning once again to your SSCXWC film—I was wondering whether the UCI should decide grid positions for their Gravel World Championships with a tug of war, beer chug and Big Mac eating heats?

Sarah
Hell yeah!! Can you imagine? Because I guarantee that the women racers normally on the front would be way in the back. And people like me would shine [laughs]. 

cyclespeak
Let’s talk to the UCI and make it happen.

Sarah
Just so you know, I’m actually quite a slow chugger. But just watch me jam a Big Mac down my gullet.

cyclespeak
Before we say goodbye, I also asked this final question of your teammate Ellen. Because we’ve already talked about the full media glare of the race world where every decision you make can be dissected and commented on. So, bearing all that in mind, is it a simple thing to say why you race?

Sarah
Actually it is. And I’m not trying to be too profound. But it’s either in you or it’s not. The desire to have that sort of challenge and have it against other people. That’s something so specific and personal and deep and beautiful but also a bit dark. A primal exercise of competition and survival of the fittest 

[Sarah pauses]

Or just something that us crazy people do [laughs].


Sarah Sturm

Ellen Campbell / Good sensations

Now heading into her third season as a full-time professional and rostered to race the 2024 Lifetime Grand Prix, Ellen Campbell takes an intriguing look at the emotional challenges of rolling up to a start line, the self-healing benefits of kindness and compassion, and how fun and laughter with teammate Sarah Sturm help balance the pressure to perform.


cyclespeak
Hi Ellen. How’s Madeira working out for you?

Ellen
It’s a really cool little island. Our friend’s Mom bought a spot here to have as a rental and we were invited over for a month-long training camp to escape the winter. So here we are [smiles].

cyclespeak
Is it good road riding?

Ellen
Honestly? I’d say a mountain bike would probably be best. It’s super steep and the roads are kinda rough.

cyclespeak
So what does your off-season look like? I’ve seen you’ve been out skiing and hiking so is it a time to let loose?

Ellen
At this point, mid-January, I’m definitely back into structured training. After a rather turbulent start to my off-season. Normally I take one or two weeks off the bike and I’ll ski, climb or run. Whatever motivates me to get outside. But this year I was travelling more—maybe not getting the rest I needed—and my body was telling me to slow down and step back a little. So not exactly the smoothest transition into training.

cyclespeak
And now you’re back at it but in Madeira?

Ellen
Which is kind of challenging because there aren’t any easy spins [laughs].

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
You mentioned needing a couple of weeks to rest up. Are you able to accept that or is there a part of you frustrated at being inactive?

Ellen
I’m not super great at it. I tend to have this internal battle going on. Part of my brain is telling me that rest is good and I’m doing the right thing. But the other part sees everyone else on social media out training and there’s this feeling you’re missing out. So, yes, it can be hard but it’s really only a moment in time and there are so many more days in the year.

cyclespeak
I’ve heard you talk about riding with the Durango Devo* squad and you raced a lot before first chatting to Sarah at Leadville about going full-on professional. But what are your memories of bikes and riding from childhood?

*A community-centred development programme dedicated to sharing the love of riding mountain bikes based out of Durango, Colorado.

Ellen
I definitely had cycling in my life from a very young age. My Dad is a big road cyclist—maybe even a fanatic—so he was a massive influence. Not pushy but it was something that he enjoyed doing so we always had bikes around and there was talk of the Tour.

cyclespeak
And that, in turn, led to you riding with Devo?

Ellen
Which was a great environment to learn the ins and outs of racing in a team and having fun on the bike. At first I didn’t like it that much because it’s hard, going up hills. I remember not liking the feeling of being uncomfortable. So back then, I mostly rode to spend time with my friends. When you’re talking to each other, the hills don’t seem so bad [laughs].

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
You mention having fun on the bike and that reminds me of this quote from the tail-end of 2023: ‘We’re here for the giggles. And the fun. And the friendship. But mostly for the giggles.’ And I wanted to ask about those sentiments with respect to your team dynamic with Sarah?

Ellen
I remember writing that post because it was kind of a hard one. Because both me and Sarah are very serious cyclists but we never want to take ourselves too seriously. Cycling attracts a lot of Type A people and there can be a lot on the line if it’s your livelihood. So on the one hand there’s definitely this tension but then you have Sarah who’s so giggly. And it helps that we spend so much time together, travelling to a race, driving through the middle of nowhere. We have this good little crew: me and Sarah, my partner Howard, and Dylan, Sarah’s partner.

cyclespeak
And that team dynamic helps balance out the inevitable stresses of racing?

Ellen
One of Devo’s slogans was ‘Never forget the feeling’. A reminder to enjoy the sensation of flying down a hill or going hard when the mood takes you and not taking any of that for granted. So when I was writing that post, I was not only thinking about the racing but all the other special little pieces that come into play. Navigating Sarah’s school bus through a tiny, little town or yelling at Norm* to climb onboard after he’s stretched his legs. All the fun stuff that keeps you moving when you’re suffering over 200 miles of Kansas gravel.

*Sarah’s dog Norman

cyclespeak
Back in 2022, you referred to yourself as a newbie when you first became Sarah’s teammate. So what kind of learner are you?

Ellen
That’s not something I’ve ever really thought about [laughs]. But I have noticed that I’ll mimic other people that I think are good at something. I have a picture in my brain of what that looks like and I’ll try and copy it. So maybe you could say I’m an experiential learner?

cyclespeak
What were the biggest takeaways from your first full-time season?

Ellen
2022 was quite a whirlwind. So much newness coupled with this feeling of ‘Holy cow, I’m actually doing this.’ Because coming through the Durango Devo programme, I always knew that if I worked hard enough, then professional racing was a goal to which I could aspire. But when that finally becomes a reality, it’s as if your mind is playing catch up and there’s this nagging question of whether you’ve earned it.

cyclespeak
So how does riding as a team figure in a race situation? Does it give you both an edge?

Ellen
From the very beginning, Sarah and I decided to operate as a team everywhere except on the race course. We’re good friends and want to support each other, so we’ll talk during the race but I’m never riding for Sarah. If she flatted, I’d happily give her a CO2 cartridge or a spare tube; but in much the same way that I’d do that for a lot of people and not just Sarah.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
What’s your take on the rise in professionalism on the gravel racing circuit? Large support crews, power washers, spare wheels etc. Is it inevitable as the scene explodes in popularity—and should therefore be embraced—or does it disenfranchise the privateer who has a limited budget and is balancing their racing with a full-time job?

Ellen
That’s a tricky line to walk as I do feel it’s very difficult to mandate levels of support. You’ll always have individuals with different resources regardless of whether they’re on a factory team or a privateer. And let’s not forget the thousands of competitors lining up to race these events without any outside support.

cyclespeak
I guess there are no simple answers?

Ellen
Maybe, as professional athletes, we need to focus on making the sport approachable; whether that’s our interactions on race day or in the posts we put out on social media? And then combine that with a cascading series of race distances so that individuals new to riding a bike can come along and join in the fun?

cyclespeak
Speaking of responsibilities and in a sport that seems to delight in finding contentious issues to argue over, have you always been comfortable in expressing an opinion and planting a flag for what you believe in?

Ellen
I wouldn’t say I’m always comfortable [laughs]. But there are moments when things can get a little silly. And I do try and see both sides of things because it’s easy to get worked up or offended. But there’s no one way to do bike racing and I will speak out when I feel someone is being too narrow-minded.

cyclespeak
In your recap from season closer Big Sugar you mention racing assertive and smart but then reference a death by a thousand cuts. And it struck me how very candid and upfront you are with your comments?

Ellen
Social media is a funny one for me. And I do feel it’s important to be as authentic and honest as I can.

cyclespeak
I guess what we often see is rather a filtered version of our best lives. So it’s refreshing when people share their difficulties and talk about the lows as well as the highs?

Ellen
It’s just my take on things but if someone else had a difficult day riding an event, then to see that I also suffered out on the course might help them to validate their own experience?

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
You placed 11th in last year’s Lifetime Grand Prix and you’re rostered to race in the series again this year. Is it a format that plays to your strengths, that you enjoy and enables you to have fun racing? Or does the success of the series bring with it a sense of pressure to perform?

Ellen
The length of the series is definitely a help as I tend to be a pretty consistent rider. So multiple races over a longer period of time is generally beneficial even though there are more opportunities to get hurt or sick. And if you look at it plain and simple, all you can do is line up, try and do your best, and hope that the stars align.

cyclespeak
On the one hand, you can define success with your Grand Prix race results. And then, on the other hand, you had 20 novice riders show up for your first RIDE DIRT workshop which is pretty awesome. So in a very broad sense, what are your metrics for a successful season?

Ellen
That’s a great question…

[Ellen pauses]

I guess I break it down between the competition side of things and the feelings I have about bike riding. And having those women show up for my workshop—putting their trust in me—was one of those great sensations.

cyclespeak
And that helps you find a sense of balance?

Ellen
Over a season there will always be things that don’t go to plan. So overall, I just want to feel good about my performance. I want a race to go right regardless of where I’m placing and for me to enjoy a good experience out there. But these same metrics can be applied to a skills workshop I’m leading or if someone I’m coaching gets a good result.

cyclespeak
So an emphasis on the right feelings?

Ellen
This year I had a rider I coach win a mountain bike national title. Which was pretty cool. So yes, good sensations are my metric for success [smiles].

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Focusing in on your own racing style, in the MTB rounds of the Grand Prix when you’re racing on singletrack, are you a shouter—get the F out of my way—or more of a polite ‘can I pass’?

Ellen
I’d describe myself as assertive but nice. Or nicely assertive. You take your pick [laughs].

cyclespeak
What does that look like in a race situation?

Ellen
A lot of my high school races included sections with limited opportunities to pass. And I was always taught—which is what I tell anyone I coach—that you have the right to pass but not to be mean. In terms of my personality, I don’t seek out conflict but I also want to get things done and get to where I’m going.

cyclespeak
You could argue that being a professional athlete brings with it certain pressures. And I was wondering whether there are ever days when a regular 9-5 job with riding at the weekend seems appealing? Or are you living the dream?

Ellen
Financially, a 9-5 job sometimes sounds appealing [laughs]. But no, I get to lead a relaxed life where I wake up, go for a ride, have lunch, maybe watch a movie or catch up with friends, before going to bed. Sometimes I’m not feeling particularly motivated to train but head out regardless. Or if I’m travelling, I might miss out on family occasions. But I wouldn’t swap what I do. And if I had a regular job, I wouldn’t be flying off to spend a month in Madeira.

cyclespeak
That would be an interesting conversation to have with your employer [smiles].

Ellen
I guess you could say I feel very privileged to live the life that I do. And want to soak up every opportunity for as long as I have it. I call it my vacation life [laughs].

cyclespeak
So as a disciplined professional, are you a ride-all-weathers athlete or is there a place for indoor training?

Ellen
Generally I try and get outside as much as possible but there are definitely times when it just doesn’t make sense. My coach—especially this time of year when the weather is so variable—will plan a combination of activities. I might go Nordic skiing for a couple of hours and then go on the indoor trainer.

cyclespeak
I’m an hour tops on my indoor trainer. After that I’m losing the will to live.

Click image to enlarge

Ellen
I’m right there with you. My max is probably an hour and a half and there has to be some structure. If I’m twiddling my thumbs, watching a movie, then it’s more likely 20 minutes [laughs].

cyclespeak
Your partner Howard* also races the Grand Prix series. So I’m guessing that makes logistics a little easier?

*Off-road professional racer Howard Grotts

Ellen
Travelling together is definitely a plus. Sarah, Howard and I all live in Durango, so that helps with booking flights or sharing a ride to the race. And another big benefit is Howard obviously understands what’s going on with my training and my goals for the season.

cyclespeak
When you’re out on the trails together, is there ever a sense of competition?

Ellen
Not so much. But we did have one little incident…

cyclespeak
Which was?

Ellen
We were living in Montana, returning from a ride, when Howard asked if I wanted to sprint home. I honestly wasn’t that keen but we started to accelerate before getting our bars locked up. Howard was okay, he didn’t go down, but I crashed and this happened right before mountain bike nationals which was kind of worrying. Luckily there was no permanent damage apart from a pretty spectacular bruise [laughs].

cyclespeak
Rather than post the usual year-end recap reel, you saw out 2023 with some intentions. The themes included having compassion for yourself, bringing more awareness to your body’s needs, making time for family and friendships. Are these set in stone or do they act as markers to guide you through the coming year?

Ellen
It was never intended to be a rigid plan. If something doesn’t feel right, then it will change and evolve as I learn and experience new things. But I did feel it was important to set some goals that would lead to success not only in bike racing but in life. Trying to be a professional athlete in any sport is hard so it’s important to be kind to yourself.

cyclespeak
I think it’s something that would be helpful for most people. Life can be very tricky. And intense.

Ellen
I feel it’s important to give yourself the space to acknowledge any negativity but know that it doesn’t define you or make you a bad person.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
When you line up at the start of a race, every decision you make out on the course is open to scrutiny. But then I scroll through the comments on your Instagram posts and there’s so much good feeling and respect for what you’re setting out to do. This enormous groundswell of positive energy that combines with a sense that you inspire so many individuals. So is it tricky to balance this public persona with a need for privacy?

Ellen
That’s a good question and I think I need to remember this a bit more. Because I’m not the kind of person who will process alone. Often I feel the need to share and talk with others and I definitely lean on Howard and Sarah in this regard. But in terms of my public persona—when I’m at a race or an expo—I do consider how I carry myself because actions can speak louder than words. Yes, a certain result can be life changing but ultimately a race is just a race. And I always remember the distinct moments when people have been kind to me. And I also remember when people are mean. So I try really hard to be nice when I’m racing.

cyclespeak
Not many of us do our jobs under a media spotlight?

Ellen
It’s kind of crazy when you race. You’re under this magnifying glass with everyone watching you. And it’s not as if you’re looking your best. You’re properly suffering and you’ve got food all over your face [laughs]. But when people do have an outburst or say something unkind, then there’s a tendency for it to come back and bite them on the butt.

cyclespeak
Taking all these thoughts and detours into consideration, is it a simple thing to say why you race?

Ellen
I honestly don’t know if it is. Sometimes it’s not fun but then I think about the times we hang out after a race, the finish line hugs, the fun and laughter of travelling with Sarah, the cool places we get to see.

[Ellen pauses]

But why do I race? I guess the opportunity I get to push myself is pretty unique. Because you can push yourself in a whole lot of different ways: in your job or as a parent. But to do that in a physical sense and on a global stage? That’s really special and definitely not something I take for granted.

Feature image with kind permission of Alex Roszko / All other photography (credited individually) courtesy of Ellen Campbell.

Alex Roszko / Fast, fun and easy

It’s Thanksgiving Day and photographer Alex Roszko is taking our video call on his mobile phone as he strolls through a suburban neighbourhood in Austin, Texas. Jacket zipped up against the December chill, he’s visibly relaxed and happy to let our conversation wander.

Tracing his love of visual storytelling to when he was gifted his first camera—a Polaroid covered in Ninja Turtle stickers—when the opportunity arose to swap his programming position with an engineering firm for the gravel trails of race events, he decided to make the leap.

A decision to pursue photography as a full-time career that he explores with an unwavering honesty; Alex offering an intriguing take on the challenges of being your own boss, and why it can be the smallest of details that make your heart sing.


Alex
Good morning. Or I guess afternoon for you?

cyclespeak
That’s time zones for you. But we managed to navigate the difference at our first attempt. You’re calling from Austin?

Alex
I am. But I usually only stay for a few weeks at a time. Which probably explains why the most common question I get asked is, “So, how long are you here?”

cyclespeak
Austin is enjoying something of a boom?

Alex
You can see it in the house prices. Tech is coming in. We’re the new San Francisco [laughs].

cyclespeak
The price of progress. And I remember a friend of mine mentioning that a lot of your dirt roads are being paved over?

Alex
You have to get pretty far out of town to find any good gravel.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Because you’ve just got back from Girona where there are endless trails to ride. And I was smiling at your Instagram story where you mentioned not being able to take your bike bag on the small train to Barcelona which meant an unexpected €200 trip by taxi.

Alex
To be fair, I’d taken this same train a couple of times without any problems. But this time, I just happened on the wrong person and it was a very definite ‘no’.

cyclespeak
I was looking at the ‘About’ section of your website where you mention that your first name is John.

Alex
But I go by my middle name, Alexander. Or Alex. But most people call me Roszko. Which is my last name. Which I can see is all kind of confusing [smiles].

cyclespeak
When I saw the spelling of Roszko, I immediately thought you might have some European heritage?

Alex
I believe my great grandparents came over from Poland in the 20s.

cyclespeak
Well, there you go. And looking back on your family life and childhood, do you remember it as being particularly creative?

Alex
Actually, my dream as a child was to be an artist. I was obsessed with drawing and I must have sketched the Titanic over a hundred times to try and get it perfect. But I’ve always been a visual learner rather than relying on memorising text.

cyclespeak
So what are your first memories of photography?

Alex
I got my first camera when I was seven or eight. So I’ve been looking through a lens for a long, long time.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Did your visual education continue at high school and college?

Alex
I went to high school in Houston. Initially still wanting to be an artist but that changed when I developed an interest in meteorology and geography. I was really enamoured with the physical world and our weather and how that all combines. But when I enrolled in community college, I discovered meteorology was out of the question because it required four years of physics or math; two subjects I’m just hopeless with. My brain just doesn’t bend in those ways [laughs].

cyclespeak
So what did you study instead?

Alex
I graduated from Texas State University with a degree in physical geography.

cyclespeak
Where did your photography fit in?

Alex
I’d skateboarded for twenty years by this point but got an injury so I picked up my camera to take some pictures of my friends. And that was the moment when photography re-entered my life and I started to scratch this creative itch.

cyclespeak
I’m guessing you didn’t immediately start earning a living as a photographer?

Alex
I remember in 2013 using my credit card to buy my first full-frame camera—which was terrifying—and the deal I made with myself was I had to pay it off with the income I made using the camera. At the time I was working for a local engineering firm so at weekends I would take high school portraits, graduations and engagements before trying my hand at weddings. That lasted for eight years. A 9-5 job during the week and photography on the weekends.

cyclespeak
So what happened to make photography a full-time gig?

Alex
Covid, actually. We were all working from home and my company sent out this email to ask for volunteers who wanted to quit.

cyclespeak
Voluntary severance?

Alex
That’s right. I thought about all the free time I would have and what I could do if I accepted their offer. So I volunteered.

cyclespeak
And said goodbye to the 9-5?

Click image to enlarge

Alex
Actually, no. Long-story-short, they denied my application but this idea was still stirring around inside my head so I reached out to some local bike shops and offered my photographic services on retainer. I’d arranged a meeting with one of these bike shops and told my boss that I was sick and had to finish early. But he told me I couldn’t because we had a meeting at noon that I needed to attend. So I rescheduled with the bike shop, turned up at this meeting, only to be told they were letting me go.

cyclespeak
How did that feel?

Alex
I was kind of happy, excited and also a little scared. But then I just drove down to the bike shop and negotiated my first retainer. So I was technically unemployed for about 30 minutes.

cyclespeak
Looking back at your photographic work since this pivotal moment, it’s been very varied and you’re definitely not pigeonholed with a bike in every shot.

Alex
Each brief is pretty unique. And I wear a lot of hats. I do a lot of product photography but even that allows a degree of creativity when there’s a message behind what I’m portraying. Other times it’s adventure photography where it’s more difficult to control the environment so there’s an element of spray-and-pray. And then there are times when I try a new creative angle.

cyclespeak
Keeping things fresh isn’t always easy?

Alex
It’s very hard and needs constant thought and application. Something I discuss with my videographer friends and their use of movement, edits and music. But a photo is a photo. One final product.

cyclespeak
Sometimes I think it’s the shots off the bike—sitting around a campfire making coffee or sheltering from a rainstorm—that afford you little moments of visual magic.

Alex
I completely agree. I definitely get more joy from the details. When I see someone capturing muddy eyelashes it just looks so cool.

cyclespeak
Your Instagram story from earlier today had a very nice shot of your partner’s wisps of hair escaping from her helmet and droplets of rain on her eyewear.

Alex
Capturing details like that is my personal motivation. You know, the little nuances of a moment like the hair wisp photo. I’m out with my partner—we’re in the mountains with the Fall colours on the trees—but I keep getting pulled in by the way her hair is catching the wind. Until eventually I snap out of it and realise I need a photo [laughs].

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
In your approach to a shoot, where does the balance lie between what you’ve previously planned to capture and your instinctual response to a subject and location?

Alex
I plan things pretty meticulously—a lot of scouting and Google Street View—but I do a lot of my shoots on the bike and I’ll always see something I didn’t expect. And those are the moments I typically like the most. The impromptu shots when you feel that spark of inspiration. I’d much rather be pulled in by a location than force the photo. Which is why I build in some spare time on a shoot and I always tell everyone that it’s going to be fast, fun and easy. As if we’re just on a bike ride and hanging out together.

cyclespeak
Are you conscious of using phrases like ‘just one more time’ or ‘can you ride that section again’?

Alex
Managing time and keeping everyone happy and engaged is one of the biggest challenges of any shoot. And it definitely helps that you sell yourself; so they’re onboard with what you’re trying to achieve. If you’re fun to work with and personable and you make people laugh, then you’re much more likely to forge a healthy relationship with a client and get a callback. The images are almost the easy part—that’s what I do, it’s my job—but what I’m also focusing on is my interaction with the subject or the client. That takes a lot of effort but I want it to look and feel effortless.

cyclespeak
The secret sauce?

Alex
A shoot can go great and you come away with some stunning images. But if the client or subjects are having a rotten time, then that almost feels like a failure.

cyclespeak
I’ve enjoyed talking to a wide range of creatives across a number of disciplines and they can be very hard on themselves—always focusing on how they could have done something better. And I was wondering where you sit on that spectrum?

Alex
I re-read my post about Big Sugar and it made me question whether I’m ever positive about my work [laughs]. I’m aware that sometimes my sharing can be a little woe-is-me, but I think it’s important to share both the wins and the losses. And it doesn’t help when my friends and co-workers are constantly churning out incredible work. A feeling encapsulated by probably my favourite quote, ‘comparison is the thief of joy’.

cyclespeak
I love that.

Alex
But I believe that you really do have to be critical of yourself in order to improve. Because if you thought that everything you did was bang on the money…

cyclespeak
You’d stand still?

Alex
Exactly. But, as in all things, there’s a balance to be found. And one thing that I have noticed in my creative community, is how welcoming and supportive they all are. To such a degree that I see them as co-workers rather than my competition. And I might leave an event in a self-critical frame of mind but then get lifted up by the positivity of what feels like a family.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
With all this talk about doing a good job, can I ask if there’s such a thing as the perfect photograph? Does it exist and, if so, whether there’s a recipe to replicate perfection?

Alex
I wish I knew [smiles]. So I’m going to butcher a quote from a good friend of mine, the photographer Caleb Kerr, who suggests that every good photograph needs three things: an interesting subject, something happening that makes that particular moment unique, and good light. Because you can take a hundred great photos of someone smiling, but if you can capture that exact glance, at that exact time…

cyclespeak
A photographer friend of mine, Ian Walton, very often places the point of interest just outside of the frame…

Alex
Nice!

cyclespeak
So it encourages the viewer to seek the narrative.

Alex
I completely agree.

cyclespeak
Your own imagery is beautifully lit and full of captured motion. And you’ve mentioned that you like to shoot while on the bike. But are there times when it’s better to be slightly removed?

Alex
Sometimes when I’m close to the action, I do get lost in it. So I just have to take a step back and remind myself that I’m the photographer with a job to do. And that can be as simple as being dropped off at a distance to get that tracking shot of the riders crossing the landscape.

cyclespeak
Are you the type of person that can leave for an assignment at the drop of a hat?

Alex
It can vary. Sometimes I can be ready to go in 10 minutes. Sometimes it might take half a day. And I am pretty scatterbrained so I like to have everything I need physically arranged in front of me.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
I’m guessing it’s also important to keep yourself fuelled on a long workday? Does a coffee help and, if so, what’s your order?

Alex
Now that I’m back from Spain, I’m a flat white kind of guy.

cyclespeak
Does a Texan flat white differ from the Spanish equivalent?

Alex
Inwardly I’m smiling when you order a flat white in Austin and they ask you, “What size?” And when it comes to food, I do have this pretty notorious streak for under-fuelling on race days.

cyclespeak
In the same way that Dominique Powers has her partner Ken handing her Snickers, you need someone to take charge of your fuelling.

Alex
If we’re working the same event, Dominique feeds me actually. She’ll produce a hummus sandwich or an extra Uncrustables.

cyclespeak
I’m guessing it’s a tool of your trade but what are your views on Instagram?

Alex
Just last night I thought, this is a soul-sucking waste of time. And then, other times, I view it as such an amazing networking tool. So maybe, as my Dad is fond of saying, everything in moderation. And because I manage social media for a few brands, it’s part of my job and I kind of need to know what’s going on.

cyclespeak
Inspiration comes from a rich variety of sources. Where do you look to fill up your creative reserves?

Alex
All kinds of places. I have friends that only use an iPhone and get amazing results that make me stop and think. And my colleagues blow my mind when we’re at the same event and they come away with a completely different image set.

cyclespeak
Is this a state of mind? Being open to visual stimuli?

Alex
I think of work all the time….

[Alex pauses]

…or am I just looking for inspiration? Because returning to this concept of the perfect photograph, it needs to strike me visually—give me goosebumps—but also include an emotional element. What is that person thinking and how does it make me feel? Which is pretty amazing for a flat format that you view on a screen or pin to the wall.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
From the outside looking in, people might assume that it’s an enviable career but are there challenges of earning a living as a professional photographer?

Alex
It’s funny you ask because I’ve just posted an image on my Stories that asks what people think you do as a professional photographer. And it shows a pie chart with the smallest segment labelled as ‘taking photos’ and the largest as ‘having fun’.

cyclespeak
That sounds like the perfect job [laughs].

Alex
But there’s a second pie chart which shows what I actually do.

cyclespeak
Which is?

Alex
There’s the same-sized segment for taking photos but the rest is divided up into marketing, social media, budgeting, emails, planning, portfolio consolidation. Basically everything that consumes the vast majority of my time.

cyclespeak
That’s a lot of work.

Alex
I’m very fortunate to love what I do but at times it can be stressful and I’ve never worked harder in my life. And only recently when I was in Spain on holiday with my partner, she commented that I looked rather down. So I explained that I’d been up since four in the morning worrying about what I was going to do next year and whether this career was sustainable.

cyclespeak
I imagine you aren’t alone with those thoughts. And because you work for yourself, everything is down to you.

Alex
Which reminds me of another silly quote, ‘I didn’t want to work a 9-5 job so now I work 24/7.’

cyclespeak
Obviously travel is a necessary aspect of your profession. So I was wondering about your concept of home? Is it a place, people, belongings or something else?

Alex
When I’m away, it’s people. That’s what I miss the most. And I’ve had some changes in my living arrangements this year so I’m staying with a friend right now whilst I transition into my next phase.

cyclespeak
What might that look like?

Alex
It could be a van or even multiple locations; part-time here and there. So home for me is a little abstract at the moment.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
As a photographer, your sight is crucial to the imagery you create. How do you tap into your other senses?

Alex
My music taste is pretty eclectic, but the last time I flew back from Spain, I spent the entire journey—upwards of 20 hours—listening to Brian Eno. Very musical and pure ambience. And I find that to be incredibly meditative as it helps me to stay calm and centre my thoughts.

cyclespeak
I like the image of you flying across the Atlantic together with Brian Eno.

Alex
And I’ve played drums for many years so whatever I’m listening to, I’ll concentrate on the rhythm and technique.

cyclespeak
What does a typical day in your life look like when you’re not carrying a camera? How do you unwind from the pressures of a busy work life?

Alex
I ride nearly every day. I wake up at seven and hopefully I’m out on the bike by eight. And I also like to plan fun things; it’s always nice to have something to look forward to. Maybe the next trip, tickets for a show, or checking out a few vans for sale as I’m in the market.

cyclespeak
Have you got a #vanlife wish list?

Alex
Basically a sprinter van. Room for a bed, storage for bikes. Water and solar. Composting toilet.

cyclespeak
Is the plan to convert it yourself?

Alex
Based on my work schedule, that’s unlikely. So I’ll probably go for one that ticks most of my boxes, try living with it for a while and then make any necessary modifications.

cyclespeak
You’re living the dream [smiles].

Alex
That’s an interesting phrase because I hear it a lot. And I never quite know how to respond.

cyclespeak
How so?

Alex
Don’t get me wrong, my life is rich and varied and I feel very fortunate to be earning a living this way. But there are aspects I still find a little scary. So I’m wary of people comparing a romanticised version of my life with theirs and feeling they come up short. Because I was there, working the 9-5, for a very long time, dreaming of becoming a photographer. And now that’s become a reality, I’m a little happier but there are also things that stress me out.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Is it fair to say that happiness as a state of being doesn’t really exist? That life has a way of balancing things out? And we live in a world where marketing and social media platforms drive sales through making you feel less of a person without this or that? So maybe, rather than shooting for happiness—or living the dream—it might be better to aim for contentment?

Alex
Only very recently, I was thinking something very similar when I was having a bad day in Spain. There I was, on holiday with my partner, riding my bike, eating great food, not worrying about money or health issues. Absolutely no reason that justified me feeling unhappy. But I was. And then the next day—when it was cold and nasty—I was in the best mood ever. So what’s going on? And that got me thinking about our perception of happiness. You definitely can’t buy it and it can be tricky to hang onto.

cyclespeak
I guess there’s always more. Always something bigger or better. And maybe we all occasionally struggle with knowing when enough is enough.

Alex
I guess so [smiles].

cyclespeak
So once again circling back to your photography, in an emotional sense can you describe how it feels to hold your camera and raise it to your eye?

Alex
It can be frantic. Get the shot, get the shot. The subject is moving, things are changing. Go, go, go.

cyclespeak
I guess that’s especially the case for an event or race situation?

Alex
But if you’re talking about pure emotion, when I’m holding a camera I definitely feel empowered and confident. And, in a sense, invisible. Which I guess is an odd thing to say when you consider I’m taking pictures. 

cyclespeak
In the sense that you’re divorced from what’s going on?

Alex
Absolutely. And maybe because it’s human nature for people to want to look natural. So they’ll play it cool. Which was exactly what happened yesterday when I was taking a shot from the inside of a coffee shop of some riders in the parking lot. Nobody took a blind bit of notice—or at least that’s the impression they gave—so I was invisible.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Do you think a lot about the future? Where you’ll be and what you’ll be doing?

Alex
I know we’ve talked about me getting a van and, long-term, I do think about a home and where it will be. But for now, I’m just trying to take advantage of my time and health by travelling and pushing my limits both physically and creatively. I’ve been very aware and thankful for my health over the past few years.

cyclespeak
One aspect of our lives that we sometimes take for granted?

Alex
Definitely. Everything is fleeting. And maybe that’s why I enjoyed photographing those hair wisps so much. Because, for me, they perfectly represent another one of my favourite quotes; ‘nuance is the spice of life’. I’m not sure where I first heard it but it’s been ringing around in my head a lot lately and it’s so true.

cyclespeak
The little details—so easy to overlook—that help define a situation or experience and its importance.

Alex
Because nuance is the best part of most things. It’s the part you can’t describe or easily explain.

cyclespeak
The things on the edge or outside of the frame?

Alex
There you go. Beautiful [laughs].

All photography by Alex Roszko / roszkophoto.com

Sami Sauri / Mountain high

In a year that saw life explorer Sami Sauri swap city living in Girona for a new home in the French Alps, we once again sat down to chat over the thrills—and some spills—of snow buried bikes, baking bread in Arabia and a wild ride by ambulance through Kenya’s Maasai Mara.

Honest, heartfelt and never shying away from life’s complexities, Sami weighs up the uncertainties of her profession, how she sought solitude but then needed to embrace the silence, and why there’s always time to stop and smell the flowers.


cyclespeak
Your hair looks very long, Sami. Though, to be fair, it’s quite often hidden under your bike helmet.

Sami
I’m trying to grow the fringe out after I cut it. I was very disappointed [laughs].

cyclespeak
You cut it yourself?

Sami
Why spend the money to go to a hairdresser?

cyclespeak
When you can do it yourself and then be disappointed.

Sami
Exactly [laughs].

cyclespeak
You’re calling from Morzine?

Sami
My new home in the French Alps.

cyclespeak
I picture you halfway up a mountain in a wooden chalet.

Sami
It’s a typical little village towards the top of a col. So every time I finish my training I have this steep, steep climb back home.

cyclespeak
How’s your French?

Sami
I knew French before so that was a big advantage.

cyclespeak
So that’s Spanish, obviously, and Catalan?

Sami
Yes.

cyclespeak
And also French and English.

Sami
And Italian [laughs].

cyclespeak
Is there no end to your talents?

Sami
I’m also trying to learn some Arabic. I feel it will open doors and allow me to speak to the women I meet in their own language.

cyclespeak
I’m really looking forward to hearing all about your new home but can we start with your recent adventures in Turkey? Judging by your posts and stories, it looked like some kind of Hollywood screenplay.

Sami
The plan was to ride in the northeast of Turkey where few people speak English and there’s very little information available about cycling or hiking.

cyclespeak
It sounds relatively unexplored in bike packing terms?

Sami
Every time I was working on the route, I just kept on finding more and more epic stuff. It’s such a big country and I just wanted to go and discover it for myself.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
So what happened on that fateful day?

Sami
I woke up with my partner Nick to a lovely sunny sunrise. We’d pitched our tent at about 2,000 m and the wind had been a little gusty during the night but nothing that would give rise to concerns. So we had no idea that it was all going to go shitfaced [laughs].

cyclespeak
So it was a beautiful day…

Sami
And we started hiking up, carrying our bikes, all our gear and enough food for two days. My hip was starting to hurt so Nick was going back and forth to carry the two bikes towards the pass that would take us over into the next valley.

cyclespeak
He’s an ultra runner so I’m guessing feels super comfortable in the mountains.

Sami
The higher we climbed, the more snow was on the ground and it was getting quite foggy. And then as we reached 3000 m, the wind was getting really strong and drifting snow over our bikes. It was at this point that I knew we had to quickly make a decision.

cyclespeak
At altitude, the weather can change so suddenly.

Sami
Nick couldn’t feel his feet, I was wearing everything I had and visibility was down to a few metres. So we decided to abandon the bikes and get down to where we could pitch our tent and wait out the storm.

cyclespeak
With snow on the ground, that must make navigation difficult?

Sami
Earlier in the day we’d passed a shepherd’s barn. The path was covered but we eventually reached this shelter—feeling pretty panicky—and pitched our tent inside. We got a fire going and heated up some noodles and then I managed to get phone reception through the SIM card I’d left at home. So I sent a message to my friends Ben and Gaby in France with the Instagram profile name of this guy we’d met earlier in the day before the weather went crazy. He’d invited us for a cup of chai at the house he was renovating and we’d noticed he was driving a 4×4.

cyclespeak
That sounds very fortuitous.

Sami
So Ben and Gaby reached out with our coordinates and asked if he could possibly pick us up in the morning at the barn where we were sheltering. But a couple of hours later—Nick was asleep in the tent—I heard a car pull up outside. I was shaking Nick to wake him and he was like, “Stop dreaming. Nobody is going to drive up a mountain in a snowstorm.” But the headlights were shining through the cracks in the barn door and I jumped up, still inside my sleeping bag, and started shouting. The guy had brought us hot soup and tea and then took us down to this pension hotel.

cyclespeak
That’s so kind.

Sami
They wouldn’t even let us pay for our stay. Amazing.

cyclespeak
And your bikes? Because they were still buried under a snow drift at 3000 m.

Sami
We took a couple of days to recuperate before renting a car—another adventure because everything was in Turkish—and driving to the other side of the pass where we could trek up to collect our bikes.

cyclespeak
You make this all sound very simple but they were covered in snow on the side of a mountain.

Sami
First, we live in a technological world where we can record everything. And we had our Suunto watches so we had the coordinates and we’d left them by a quite distinctive rock.

cyclespeak
I enjoyed your Instagram story where you scrape away at the snow to reveal a wheel which you then bend over and kiss.

Sami
We’d abandoned everything in such a hurry that it was a relief to find our bikes as we’d left them.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
It’s good that it all ended well. And taking our conversation to warmer climes, late last year you took a trip to Socotra where you spent some time with a group of teenage girls?

Sami
I was invited to visit them at home. They smiled and I smiled back and then I watched as they prepared some flatbreads. One of them was wearing curcuma on her face—this yellow henna made from turmeric—and I was trying to communicate how pretty it looked. Well, five minutes later they came out with a bowl and started pouring curcuma all over my body.

cyclespeak
I’m guessing there’s not much you can do as a guest in their house?

Sami
Exactly. I didn’t want to be disrespectful and it was nice that the girls wanted to share a little of their culture with me. But I was so yellow I looked like a character from the Simpsons.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
We live and learn.

Sami
I actually went back to the same family the next time I visited Socotra and took them some notebooks and crayons for school but also some black henna and asked if they would paint designs on my hands and feet.

cyclespeak
A little after your time in Socotra you had another adventure but this time in the high mountains on a ski / bike trip.

Sami
That was amazing. The fact that you’re travelling under your own power and able to reach places that you couldn’t get to by car. Physically tough as we had eight back-to-back days.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
I’m guessing you burn lots of calories and I saw an Instagram story where you were enjoying a fondue. Is there a forfeit if your chunk of bread falls off into the melted cheese?

Sami
Yes [laughs]!

cyclespeak
There is?

Sami
I always say, if you drop the bread, you pay for the fondue.

cyclespeak
The start of the year also saw you launch your W Collective and I was wondering what inspiration lay behind the original idea?

Sami
It all started from a conversation I had with a friend from Dubai. One day she asked me how I went cycling with a period. And I was like, well, I just use a tampon and that’s it. And when she explained that she couldn’t do that, it left me feeling like I didn’t have any answers. So that got me thinking about all the other women out there who may have questions on a whole range of subjects and maybe we need to create a safe space where ideas, advice and experiences can be shared.

cyclespeak
You led a W ride out from La Comuna in Girona in the days leading up to the Traka. What did it feel like to see all those women coming together under a banner that you’d created?

Sami
I honestly couldn’t believe it. I’d advertised the ride but you sometimes have this fear of failure? Where the only ones who show up will be your usual four friends. So when 40 women turned up it was amazing and a little scary because I was the only one leading [laughs]. Luckily my friend Maya—she’s the community manager in Spain for Komoot—was able to help out. 

cyclespeak
So after coffee, off you all went?

Sami
I’d chosen quite a hilly route and when we re-grouped after this longer climb everyone was chatting away—cheep, cheep, cheep—and when I said, “Okay, let’s roll,” no one followed me. They were all too busy getting to know each other [laughs].

cyclespeak
It sounds like a proper social ride. And I saw one of your W Collective stickers on the coffee counter at La Comuna. Am I right in thinking Sarah Sturm did the design for you?

Click image to enlarge

Sami
Sarah was super generous and referenced the ride in her Traka film. So cool!

cyclespeak
You rode your YT-Industries gravel bike in the Traka. How’s it working out for you?

Sami
I really love that bike.

cyclespeak
It’s fitted with a short travel suspension fork. Does that make a big difference?

Sami
It does for me because I love going downhill fast. Shredding properly and seeking out gnarly trails and rocky paths. But even on smoother gravel it will make a difference over a long day. On the Traka 360, everyone was knackered. Hands and arms on fire. Me? Zero, nothing. And on the downhill sections I was able to pass people with ease.

cyclespeak
In the summer, you took a blue and white colourway of the YT bike to Kenya for the Safari Gravel and Migration Gravel races. It looked like you enjoyed a very warm welcome?

Click image to enlarge

Sami
I didn’t want to feel rushed so arrived a week and a half before the first race was due to start. I visited the Team AMANI House and the new pump track—a wonderful project that will soon be finished—and then I led another woman’s ride.

cyclespeak
I saw lots of zebras in your posts.

Sami
And giraffes and elephants [laughs].

cyclespeak
Very unfortunately you crashed out during the Migration Gravel race?

Sami
My first big injury from racing and I was in the middle of the Maasai Mara in Kenya. I don’t remember the crash but immediately afterwards I thought I’d broken my back. It turns out it was my sacrum which is connected to your pelvis.

cyclespeak
That sounds super painful.

Sami
It was also my first time in an ambulance. Five hours on a very bumpy road and when we were nearly back at the camp we were stuck in a traffic jam because the riders were coming through. A complete shit show with the truck carrying all the race baggage stuck in the mud and my ambulance the only vehicle with a winch. It was 30°C, I’d just had an injection of Tramadol because the pain was so bad and when the winch cable took the strain, I was close to being catapulted out of the rear doors.

cyclespeak
What happened when you finally got to camp?

Sami
The doctor checked me over and asked if I wanted to fly by helicopter to Nairobi? But I really wanted to do the safari we had planned so decided to stay in the camp, get some sleep and cope as best as I could with the pain. And then I spent three days travelling all over Kenya with a cushion under my ass.

cyclespeak
Did you get checked out when you got home?

Sami
They just confirmed it was broken and told me to rest for six weeks. No speedy recovery.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Speaking of this setback, earlier in the year you posted—in your typical unfiltered fashion—about how you define yourself professionally and whether people sometimes have assumptions that life is easy for you. Are these difficult thoughts to navigate?

Sami
100%. I’m constantly struggling to make sense of it all. Because you need to plan each year in advance and sell ideas and projects to brands and sponsors so that you can continue to be a full-time cyclist. And this time of the year—September and October—can be a little uncertain because you don’t always know who’s in and who’s out.

cyclespeak
I guess it’s the not knowing that can be stressful?

Sami
I put a calendar up and marked next year’s racing but everything costs so much money. You need to pay the entry fee, your hotel and travel. My last race of the year is Across Andes in Chile and that’s a super expensive trip. I get a sponsor salary but that doesn’t always cover all this extra stuff that I’m choosing to do. So sometimes I’m a little conflicted. Do I focus on my bike packing trips and creating routes like I did in Turkey? Or do I keep racing for a few more years whilst my body is still strong?

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
It sounds like there’s an inherent amount of uncertainty in this model of making a living. But could you ever see yourself doing a regular job?

Sami
For the security, maybe. And sometimes I do think it would be nice going back to when I made coffee, got a monthly paycheck and still had time to ride my bike. But that would mean working for somebody, instead of being my own boss. And there’s also the fact that I have zero family back-up, so if I have a problem I better have some savings which means managing things really carefully between submitting invoices and paying my taxes.

cyclespeak
I’ll admit to being very biased—in the hope that you carry on being you and having these amazing adventures. Because what you do is super inspirational and that encourages people to get out on their own bikes. But I don’t for one second think it’s easy. So that being said, let’s come full circle back to the mountains and your move from Girona. What prompted you to relocate in the first place?

Sami
Girona is amazing but it’s also a bubble with the same things happening and I’d lived there for four years. So I just needed a change both personally and professionally.

cyclespeak
And does Morzine live up to your expectations?

Sami
When I open my front door in the morning the view takes your breath away. The only problem is it helps to have a car and I don’t have a car licence. But the guys at Cake Bike very kindly loaned me one for a year and basically saved my ass. But most days, now that I can ride again, I’m out training.

Click image to enlarge

cyclespeak
Looking back to when we talked this time last year, are you the same Sami or have you changed in some ways?

Sami
That’s a very good question.

[pause]

I guess I’ve had to learn how to be alone. Because when I lived in Girona, I’d just go for a coffee and there was always someone I knew to talk to. But here, there’s solitude and silence. Which I’ve grown to love but at the start was a little more challenging.

cyclespeak
So what’s exciting you, motivating you at the moment?

Sami
I want to pivot more into longer distance events. Gravel races now are going the way of road and it’s just full gas from the off. And I’m more of a one pace and go forever which is what appeals about the Across Andes event. It’s my first ever ultra that is more than 500 km. Because I did a 450 km race before but you can do that in a day.

cyclespeak
I remember you did that race with no specific training and you were still first woman home.

Sami
Yes. But it was only 450.

cyclespeak
Only [laughs].

Sami
In Chile it’s 1000 km. And that’s no joke. Or one day [laughs].

cyclespeak
It sounds like the perfect event to see out your year.

Sami
I’m going to give it a try to see if I like it. I’ve always been somebody who prefers long distances because I love stopping to chat with people, to try nice food, to look at flowers. And I want to see what my mind can cope with. Not my body. My body is whatever. But my brain? That’s the hardest part [laughs].

Click image to play film

Thanks to Sami for the stories and smiles

Feature image by Nick Cusseneers / ‘Eat pasta, ride fasta’ film by Jean-Baptiste Delorme / All other photography credited individually

samisauri.com / The W Collective / YT Industries