gravel – cyclespeak

Two Together / Van life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
Obviously stars were aligning.

Alex
I guess you could say so.

cyclespeak
So what function was your van meant to serve?

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

cyclespeak
And for you, Cayla?

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

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

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

cyclespeak
And how did that experiment work out?

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
How far are we talking about?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
So did you figure out a solution?

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

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

cyclespeak
You’re connected!

Cayla
We are indeed [laughs].

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

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

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

cyclespeak
That’s good to know [laughs].

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

cyclespeak
And your sleeping arrangements?

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

cyclespeak
Cocooned?

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

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

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

cyclespeak
So what have been the biggest positives?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alex
Not really any build plans…

Cayla
One little one…

Alex
The composting toilet?

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

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
So a composting toilet?

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

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

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

Cayla
Vice versa.

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

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

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

All photography with kind permission of Alex and Cayla

Sami Sauri / Adventure more

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

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

Sami
Home again [smiles].

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

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

cyclespeak
How’s the weather in Chamonix?

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

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

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

cyclespeak
What’s he called?

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

cyclespeak
A little like a toddler?

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

Click image to enlarge

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

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

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

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

Click image to enlarge

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
So the process took some navigating?

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

Click image to enlarge

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

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

cyclespeak
That sounds like a lot to contend with?

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

cyclespeak
It all sounds super stressful.

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

Click image to enlarge

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

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

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
So how can we make positive changes?

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

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

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

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

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

Click image to enlarge

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

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

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

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

Click image to enlarge

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

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

cyclespeak
So how many different cheeses did you taste?

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

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

Sami
It was a massive day [laughs].

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

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

cyclespeak
You were flying.

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

cyclespeak
So you still have a competitive edge?

Sami
I do!!

Click image to enlarge

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

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

cyclespeak
And the people?

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

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

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

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

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

Click image to enlarge

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

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

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

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

cyclespeak
Wherever you feel comfortable in starting?

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

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

Feature image with grateful thanks to Jeremy Toro

Alexis Skarda / A Sense of Self

December 2, 2024Posted in InterviewTagged alexis skarda, gravel, gravel bikes, gravel racing, Lifetime grand prix, rapha, Santa Cruz htSQD, unboundLeave a comment

A mere six weeks after surgery to rebuild a shattered collarbone, professional off-road racer Alexis Skarda lined up at the Leadville 100. Determined to get her Lifetime Grand Prix back on track, she subsequently finished the series in fourth spot. A truly remarkable result considering the mid-season disruption to her training, and offering an intriguing insight into her competitive character and willingness to bounce back from adversity.

Speaking from her home in Grand Junction, Colorado, Alexis takes us on a journey from early childhood—when she had zero interest in sporting pursuits—to subsequent success racing off-road disciplines. A candid conversation that explores her motivation to go the extra mile, why some races appeal—and others definitely don’t—and how racing her bike has provided a true sense of self.

Alexis is backlit by morning sunshine as our call connects. More usually recognisable for her Santa Cruz htSQD race attire, she’s dressed for the off-season in jeans and a hoodie. Assuming that rest is now a priority after finishing up another Lifetime Grand Prix, I reference the scene in her White Rim FKT video where, after setting a new fastest time, she’s clearly happy to climb off the bike.

“After both Big and Little Sugar, I knew it was time to stop and take a break. So in a mental capacity, I was ready for a rest. But a week later, I kind of wanted to scratch that FKT itch.”

Clearly still having something left in the tank, I’m wondering whether routine—rest, ride, repeat—plays a part in her approach to training?

“During the race season, it’s three weeks on, one week off. And by off, I mean easy. I feel that’s a good way to build form because your body has a chance to catch up.”

Click image to enlarge

Adding some running into the mix during the off-season as a nod to her athletic background, when the weather turns inclement Alexis describes using her indoor trainer to maintain form.

“But you have to build up mentally,” she adds with a smile. “I use Zwift and listen to music; a combination that works for me. After a week of riding indoors, my mind is nice and numb.”

For an athlete performing at the very peak of her race discipline, it’s perhaps surprising when Alexis describes not enjoying any sports in elementary school. And when she did finally decide to compete in her Fourth Grade fun run, the subsequent win proved such a surprise that her classmates were convinced she’d taken a shortcut. Nonetheless, the seed had been sown and running quickly became her life.

“It’s all I ever wanted to do. And I can remember in middle school, our PE warm-up was to run around the field before coming in for whatever the teacher had planned. But I just stayed out and kept running. So I guess it’s this particular mindset that helps keep me going in the world of ultra-distance biking.”

Competing in Iron Kids when she was only eight years old—Alexis recalls practising transitions in her backyard at home—it was joining the Colorado Mesa University Mountain Bike Team in her junior year of college that proved a pivotal decision. Twice representing the USA at the World Championships and enjoying a super successful race career before the Lifetime Grand Prix came calling, I’m curious whether Alexis feels the race series, to date, has favoured riders from a mountain bike or gravel background?

“Bike handling skills take a while to build so if you come from mountain biking, then maybe you have more of a head start. And when the Lifetime Grand Prix kicked off in 2022, there were gravel racers who’d never ridden a mountain bike in a race situation, so they had to quickly learn this whole new discipline. That being said, the tactics that are now playing out in the Grand Prix also require you to focus on strategy and where you want to spend your energy. A lot of my fellow competitors are very good at that and it’s something that I’m still working on.”

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Not that anyone, I suggest, has it 100% dialled at all times—a flat tyre or mechanical all too readily determining a race result—but back to back overall wins at the US Marathon National Cross-Country Mountain Bike Championships saw Alexis sporting a very fetching Stars and Stripes jersey. A race result that perhaps edges it as her proudest moment to date?

“I feel that’s my best result,” she confirms with a slight hesitation in your voice. “But doing Leadville earlier this season—six weeks after surgery for a broken collarbone—proved a pretty memorable day. The crash and subsequent time off the bike had put me so far back in terms of my fitness and, to be honest, I was scared that I’d crash again and really mess myself up.”

But you still went ahead and raced, I prompt.

“And doing it, mentally helped me get back in the game. I’d got in a bad funk during the weeks of recovery because it’s super stressful, knowing you have these big races coming up and you’re getting more and more out of shape every day. So I wasn’t in a great space.”

That Alexis still managed to finish the Grand Prix in fourth place overall has me wondering, when these setbacks occur, where she sits on a scale of utter frustration at not being able to ride, or dogged acceptance that her body needs time to heal?

“When something like that happens, you have so many ups and downs within even the space of a single day. I would go from feeling extremely frustrated, to kind of not knowing what to do with myself, to deciding after talking to my coach that everything was working out fine. And then an hour later, I was falling apart again.”

A mix of emotions, I imagine, made even harder with the Grand Prix being a race series?

“It definitely puts you under more pressure to get back quickly. And maybe this sounds a little dramatic but it’s so easy to lose your whole season if you miss races where you would normally place well. It was super unfortunate when they cancelled Crusher due to the fires but, luckily for me, it meant I had less pressure to do well at Leadville.”

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Even rolling up to the start line required Alexis to ignore advice from one particularly risk-adverse member of her medical team. Concerned that the screws fixing the metal plate to her broken collar bone would be shaken loose on the Leadville course, it took conversations with teammates who’d experienced similar injuries to allay any fears.

“I knew I wasn’t fit and that it would hurt but I did feel ready to race. And I was super grateful to have finished without any incident. But that was coupled with a little bit of disappointment because the previous year I’d finished on the podium, so I knew where I should be.”

Living her professional life under such scrutiny, I can only imagine the rollercoaster of emotions?

“Being an athlete and racing is exactly that. All of the time. And though I’m not dramatic by any means, I definitely respond quickly. I can get really excited about things or really down but then it’s over and I’m back to neutral.”

Asked how this might play out at Unbound, where everyone is constantly refreshing their weather app to see if the race will be wet, Alexis responds with a wry smile. Not a favourite race, I suggest?

“I love pushing myself but for some reason Unbound is not my preferred way of doing that. Because what I really like is intensity and Unbound is more of a long, slow discomfort.”

I can hear how Alexis means physical effort when she references intensity but I’m wondering, when the gun goes off, whether a mental switch flips as she enters full-on race mode? And what reserves she draws on when the race is full gas and everything is hurting?

“That’s a good question because I feel that lately the end of the race has not been my strong suit. I tend to spend a lot in the first half—which has always been my racing style—and I’m still learning to work with the group and hold back some reserves for the finish. Which doesn’t come naturally to me because in mountain biking you just go as hard as you possibly can for 90 minutes. And you also have the downhill sections where it’s not exactly easy due to the technicality but there is an element of recovery. Racing gravel, you have to pedal all of the time.”

Racing on the Santa Cruz htSQD team, not only are there logistical and equipment benefits but Alexis also believes her bike family offers her a sense of belonging. And with constant innovation being applied to bike setups and race tactics, she feels reassured to have a team happy to try new things and keep one step ahead. A professional approach to racing that only very recently prompted some difficult conversations in relation to the so-called spirit of gravel.

“I can totally see how cool it was to show up, race without support, and just be a part of the community. But as soon as you put money on the line and organise a race series where everyone is fighting for the overall, you have very different needs.”

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A pressurised environment where every decision and race result plays out under worldwide scrutiny, and might make a regular 9-5 job with riding at the weekend seem appealing?

“Like having a normal life?” Alexis quips back with a laugh. “And yes, I might think those thoughts when I’m up at 4:30 in the morning so I can eat breakfast and get to the start line ready to race for eight or so hours. At those times, I do sometimes question why I’m doing it. But then, after the race and depending on your result, it’s like a complete one eighty and you feel on top of the world. So it’s a weird life for sure. With both good and not-so-good aspects.”

Maybe the more you invest in something—the more effort it takes—the greater the sense of accomplishment when everything slots into place?

“But it’s more than the effort you invest on race day. It’s the ten years you’ve put in prior to that—not making a dime—which people don’t always understand. How there were so many years when I seriously considered quitting. When I just needed to push through and believe in myself. But this is a small community and no one is really doing it solely for the money. At the end of the day, we’re all dealing with the same stuff.”

At this, I can’t help suggesting—tongue in cheek— whether Alexis is inadvertently describing the spirit of gravel.

“I guess maybe I am,” she replies with a smile.

Competition aside, when not training and racing Alexis enjoys working on her own music and closed out this year’s Big Sugar with a DJ set. The preparation for which led to a few late nights she confessed in a podcast conversation with fellow off-road racer Payson McElveen.

“To tell the truth, I’m a little embarrassed about the time I put into it. I’m a professional off-road racer—that’s my job—so it feels rather silly to spend so much time on what is, after all, a hobby. But in the same way I put ten years into mountain biking without getting paid to do it, I feel something similar about my music. And though I was a little nervous beforehand, seeing everyone vibing with the songs that I’d chosen felt really special.”

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When I mention the format of next year’s Lifetime Grand Prix, it’s amusing to hear Alexis confirm that she has applied but in such a way that suggests the organisers might not offer her a place. But what really intrigues me is not whether this or that race has been added or left out of the series, but whether she views her bike solely as a tool for a purpose or if it prompts a deeper, emotional response?

“That is an interesting question. And there’s definitely an emotional response with the bike. One hundred percent. You spend so much time together that it’s like you have a relationship. Almost as if you’re a team. And that’s especially true for my mountain bike.”

And does that influence your thoughts about why you race, I ask?

“I guess it’s something I’ve always done. Something I was genetically capable of doing. And it’s where, in my formative years, I found my home. People noticed me because it was something I was good at. Something my Dad did and I’ve always looked up to him. So racing—and mountain biking in particular—is really what I’m passionate about and it’s opened my mind to what my strengths and weaknesses are. So you could say it’s helped me develop as a person as well as an athlete.”

Alexis stops, staring into the middle distance, before once again picking up her train of thought.

“Ever since Fourth Grade, racing is what I decided I wanted to do. It’s played out a lot differently to what I expected but I never pictured myself doing anything else.”

Alexis Skarda

All photography by Brett Rothmeyer / brettrothmeyer.com

Dan Craven / Top Class Bicycles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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.

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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.

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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

Hailey Moore / Continental shift

July 3, 2024July 5, 2024Posted in InterviewTagged gravel, gravel bikes, hailey moore, the radavistLeave a comment

With her polished prose offering a nicely nuanced balance of insightful critique and creative flair, freelance writer Hailey Moore is a regular and well-respected contributor to The Radavist. And speaking over a call from her home in Boulder, Colorado, Hailey is happy to let our conversation wander as we take in her East Coast suburban childhood, how words became the tools of her trade, and her ever-evolving relationship with riding. A story that is testament to the transformative power of pursuing diverse interests, and her unwavering willingness to embrace change.

Coffee cup to hand, measured in response to my questions, but quick to smile and laugh, Hailey Moore has taken time out from packing for a month-long trip that will see her and partner Anton Krupicka ride bikes and climb rock faces before she takes another tilt at Unbound.

The bikes we get to a little later in our conversation but Hailey’s love of climbing—or more specifically bouldering—goes back to when she studied Psychology with a double minor in French and Entrepreneurship at Appalachian State in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

“That particular community was super welcoming. Which I guess explains why I pretty much climbed exclusively throughout my college years. And then after graduation and together with my college boyfriend at the time, we took off on a six-month climbing road trip around the US which proved to be a real eye-opener.”

Cris-crossing the western states in a Honda Element—not exactly aerodynamic, Hailey points out, but the boxy shape allowing for a little bed platform in the back—although particularly captivated by Colorado and the outdoor lifestyle it afforded, following the trip Hailey instead chose to settle in Chattanooga, Tennessee.

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“I guess that growing up in North Carolina meant that pulling the band-aid off in terms of familiarity proved too much of a risk. And perhaps pointing to my fairly sheltered upbringing in the city of Greensboro? Kind of a mixed bag in terms of classically suburban but with some of the culture of a university town. And I do remember when I was 14 or 15, my Mom would drop me off at one of the campus coffee shops so I could meet up with friends to do our homework or listen to music. So there were just enough cultural experiences to make me consider wanting something a little bit bigger.”

As things sometimes have a way of turning out, one of the multiple jobs Hailey was working happened to be on a contract basis with an outdoor media platform. Very click-baity stories—Hailey cites best kissing spots in Chattanooga as a prime example—but it was a job as a writer and encouraged her to apply for an editorial internship at Climbing Magazine. With the publication based at that time in Boulder, she packed up her things and made the move west in October 2016.

“I’ve called Colorado home for going-on seven and a half years, but when I look back at my 24-year-old self, it still amazes me how I made such an impulsive decision at what was a relatively young age.”

Having dwelt on Hailey’s early years, I’m curious to what extent bikes played a part in her upbringing? This question prompting Hailey to reminisce over riding round the neighbourhood and commuting by bike when she started high school.

“Partly because I would occasionally get into a little bit of trouble and be grounded from my car,” she adds with a wry smile. “But also because I just enjoyed the sense of freedom it offered. That feeling of going under the radar and bending the rules with fewer consequences?”

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Initially a means of getting from A to B—Hailey doubting whether she even oiled her chain—there followed a period during and after college when she barely rode at all.

“But with the move to Colorado, I wanted to pick it up again and had this brief period of riding road on a garish Cervélo that would get beat up on all the local trails. That coincided with meeting other riders who were curating their own bikes and the realisation that you can allow for wider clearances and it doesn’t need to be so stripped back that performance is the only goal.”

Referencing a recent article Hailey wrote for The Radavist that recapped all the various build iterations of her Crust Bombora, I ask whether she also changed as a rider over the same period?

“One of the reasons the Bombora evolved was because I was acquiring other bikes. Which probably points to how I’ve become a more diversified rider. My touring preferences have seen me drift more towards a hardtail with drop bars and I don’t set myself the goal of riding super hard on every ride. Comfort, also, can have its own benefit; even if your bike weighs a couple of pounds more.”

This mention of The Radavist prompts another amusing anecdote as Hailey recalls her time working as a pastry baker.

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“I would clock in at 4:30am and spend the majority of each shift on my feet before going riding when I finished at twelve. And on top of all that, it’s not as if I was making a lot of money. So I was already considering going back to my writing, I’d been submitting the occasional article to The Radavist, and then when The Pro’s Closet took over control, John and Cari* had the wherewithal to advertise for an editorial position which I applied for but didn’t get!”

*Founder of The Radavist, John Watson, and his partner Cari Carmean

Quick to point out that the opening definitely went to the right person, the application process did allow Hailey to meet John in person. So when, subsequently, the editorial team needed more help with copy-editing, formatting and product testing, Hailey’s name immediately came to the fore and she was offered a freelance position.

“You do, largely, feel like you’re working for yourself. And when I look back to the pretty standard office job I got after finishing the internship that brought me to Colorado, the people were great but it was 9-5 and the rigid structure made me want to tear my hair out. I just feel that being stuck behind a desk for 30 to 40 hours a week doesn’t reward efficiency. And as it was a marketing position, if you don’t feel inspired? But at The Radavist, John is very trusting and I have the freedom to pitch whatever I want and if he believes it will make a good story, then it’s given a green light.”

Asked whether there’s a flip side to working on a freelance basis, Hailey confirms that it kind of conforms to what everybody says. How there’s the constant hustle and the need to set boundaries but with the understanding that these are choices she herself made.

“I’m hesitant at coming across as complaining,” she adds.

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Maybe complaining is a little strong, I suggest. And that we’re just exploring the realities of one particular way of working. A lifestyle that some people might assume is all roses?

“It’s definitely not!” laughs Hailey. “And because both my partner and I work on a contract basis, there’s a hint of insecurity relating to what we’ll make each and every year. Which makes working out how to buy a home just that little bit harder. Firstly, housing here is so expensive, and secondly, I don’t know that many people my age who have been able to get on the property ladder. But with the bike industry still having difficulties post-pandemic, I’m not sure full-time positions are any guarantee either. There were several companies I continued to work with just after the pandemic that were simultaneously making massive layoffs.”

Setting aside these financial uncertainties that many are now facing, when it comes to Hailey’s day-to-day routine she allows how she’s pretty good at turning off Slack by 6:00pm and keeping the weekends free for the numerous outdoor activities she enjoys.

“I find it interesting how the core tension of my personality is that I love routine. But I’m also very planning-focused so I want to be the one determining what that routine looks like. I’d be quite happy spending the next six months in Boulder, writing for a few hours each day before going out to exercise, and then working on the garden until it’s time to cook dinner. On the other hand, I feel strongly that it’s important to prioritise new experiences and embrace opportunities. Short-term this might mean a bit of stress or a lot of travel but the rewards are well worth all that.”

When it does come time to travel, Hailey references routine in the shape of her pre-breakfast rituals.

“Every morning Tony and I drink coffee and read our books before we do anything. And because we’re both pretty introverted—with our own goals—most days at home we’ll get out by ourselves and maybe once a week go climbing or for a ride together. And I’ve noticed how Colorado has this sense of familiarity that extends to wherever I’ve travelled previously with Tony; like those memories are keeping me company and I don’t feel alone. But I really couldn’t see myself riding the Italy Divide—which we did last summer—without Tony for company. We have our systems down to a tee. We’re very dialled in.”

Click image to enlarge

This ability to roll with the punches proved useful when the couple needed to wait out a torrential rainstorm on a trip through Nebraska. Spying a parked-up school bus and discovering it was unlocked, they hauled their bikes inside and slept head-to-toe in the aisle.

“It was a Friday night,” qualifies Hailey. “So we weren’t worried about being woken up in the morning and shooed away.”

Happy to share her experiences of travelling in articles for The Radavist, Hailey also contributes product reviews with one recent example featuring a bike trailer. Referencing commuter woes and society’s increasing reliance on the car, I ask whether she feels these concerns are important to address when we take a step back from our daily lives?

“I believe it’s important to recognise your personal values and try to live in a way that embodies what these are. But there’s also a need to be realistic and not judge people too harshly for just trying to make their way in the world. And maybe give yourself a little grace in that regard too. I probably travel more than the average American so what right do I have to start pointing a finger?”

Suggesting that her article was very balanced and maybe it’s a case of taking the wins where we can—those little one percents that, when totalled, can and do make a difference—I can’t help but mention how a fair proportion of The Radavist content is about stuff. Trends coming and going over the course of a season.

“I struggle with this as well. John struggles with it. And to some degree it’s a paradox that, to be totally honest, I don’t know how to reconcile. At The Radavist specifically, we try to balance this with stories that aren’t product focused—that have place or human interest at their centre—but we all kind of understand how the internet rewards product reviews in its SEO.”

Click image to enlarge

Returning, once more, to her riding, Hailey explains how by nature she’s happier to get caught out rather than set off when it’s pouring down. That’s when, she suggests, she’s more likely to choose running, as the clean-up after a wet ride is just so off-putting. This duality of activity going some way to explore her motivation to get outside but with the bike perhaps edging its way as a preference?

“Aside from pretty basic commuting, my first rides definitely had an element of wanting to get better. Whereas now I ride simply because I enjoy it. And though I love to run, cycling allows me to have a wider range of intensity levels. There’s no escaping the inherent musculoskeletal impact of running so it can be really nice to start a ride super easy and, if the mood takes you, gradually increase the effort. Or not, if that’s what you decide to do. And something else I’ve noticed about my riding, is that when I’m coming out of winter and perhaps not feeling quite as fit, I’m more hesitant at doing a ride that puts me further from home. But come summer, I want to go out there [Hailey points to the horizon].”

And for seeing new places, I ask?

“I think the bike is the ultimate tool.”

Not too slow, not too fast?

“Exactly,” Hailey confirms with a smile. “You can carry whatever you need and stop whenever you like.”

Photography with kind permission of Hailey Moore / Feature image by Josh Weinberg / All other imagery individually credited

The Radavist

Pete Stetina / Return for the dirt

June 26, 2024September 8, 2024Posted in ConversationTagged girona, Girona cycling, gravel, gravel bikes, gravel racing, traka, traka 3602 Comments

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.

Click image to enlarge

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.

Click image to enlarge

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.

Click image to enlarge

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

February 19, 2024Posted in ConversationTagged gravel, gravel bikes, gravel racing, rapha, sarah sturm, Specialized bikesLeave a comment

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

All photography with kind permission of Ri Ganey

From corporate clients—think Fizik, Osprey and New Balance—to the madness and mayhem of Single Speed Worlds, Ri Ganey has built a body of work that combines beautifully observed storytelling with an innate sense of truthfulness.

“I want my subjects to feel seen and as comfortable as possible,” suggests Ri. “Photography that is real and authentic as if I’m folding myself into whatever is happening around me.”

In her imagery of Sarah Sturm—coincidentally they share the same birthday—Ri’s playful personality is writ large. Her camera capturing a vibrancy of mood and movement that channels the inherent energy of her subject.

Visit wildchildmedia.co to commission Ri

Ellen Campbell / Good sensations

February 5, 2024Posted in ConversationTagged gravel, gravel bikes, gravel racing, rapha, Specialized bikes, wahoo fitnessLeave a comment

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.

Henna Palosaari / Outside

January 23, 2024Posted in InterviewTagged bikepacking, Fara Cycles, gravel, gravel bikesLeave a comment

Growing up in the north of Finland, the weather was never something to complain about. If it was -20°C, Henna Palosaari simply put on more layers. A remarkable relationship with the outdoors that has continued into adulthood. Whether snowboarding in winter, bike packing through warmer months or surfing in between; Henna is a life adventurer happiest when outside.

Henna has just messaged to say she’ll be a little late for our call. Swapping her native Finnish slopes for a four-week snowboarding holiday on Japanese powder, when her video feed pings into life she explains how her evening meal was truly wonderful but took far longer than expected.

“We found this traditional Japanese restaurant run by a couple in their eighties. All very lovely but it took us over two hours to eat our dinner. And then I felt a little guilty that they were still working into their old age.”

After honing their craft over all that time, I suggest that maybe it’s more passion than profession. And then continue our food theme by admitting how the name of Henna’s cold weather clothing—Haglöfs—reminds me of an ice cream brand.

“Häagen-Dazs?” she responds with a laugh. “That’s funny. Maybe I should suggest they diversify.”

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Looking relaxed and warmly wrapped up in down jacket and wool beanie, I’m reminded that Henna studied accountancy at university but quit her job as an auditor to spend the winter in Innsbruck as—and I quote—a ski bum. So I’m naturally curious to learn what prompted such a major change in lifestyle?

“One big factor was the semester I spent abroad in New Zealand studying for my Masters. I hiked a lot and learnt to surf and then spent some time in Bali before returning home to Finland to take up a position with an accountancy firm. And I remember thinking whether this was how it was going to be for the next 20 or 30 years. So my best friend and I decided to try the European ski season and that’s how we ended up in Innsbruck.”

Fast forward to 2024 and Henna is now working for Bikeland.fi—the Finnish centre for cycling tourism—where she’s responsible for building and updating the website as well as coordinating the development and integration of cycle routes.

“Back when I was working as an accountant,” Henna explains, “I didn’t ride a bike. That came later when, like a lot of other people, I started to ride during the pandemic. Initially it was just a way of getting some fresh air but then I began to go a little further. I bought a gravel bike and some bike packing bags and set off on a 4800 km trip around Finland. And the more I rode, the more cycling became a passion. So when I saw a job with Bikeland, I applied but didn’t get it. And then a little later, I applied for another position with them and didn’t get that one either. But then they called me about the job I do now and that’s how I got started.”

A good example, I’m thinking, of how it pays to be persistent, before our conversation turns to Ride To Ski; the recently released film that, as the title suggests, combines her love of cycling and snowboarding. Featuring friends Sami Sauri and Malva Björkman, Henna not only planned all the routes but also produced the film. So very much a passion project?

“Yes. For sure. It was an idea that I’d been mulling over for a couple of years before deciding that, this winter, we were going to make it happen.”

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Offering a plentitude of Alpine panoramas and loaded with smiles and laughter, certain emotive scenes show Malva coming to terms with a traumatic event she’d previously experienced when skiing. So I’m wondering whether the way the three friends were travelling and experiencing the outdoors helped unlock these inner thoughts and feelings?

“When you travel by bike,” suggests Henna, “there’s definitely more time to process your thoughts. And when you’re physically tired, emotions can get stirred up that maybe you’re subconsciously suppressing? So I guess for me, cycling is a kind of safe haven where I can think through what’s going on in my life.”

Not the first project Henna has shared with Sami Sauri, the pair initially met over Instagram before plans were put in place to ride the Arctic Post Road; the resultant film depicting back-to-back days crossing the Nordic wilderness.

“From my experience your funniest memories of a trip are when things don’t go according to plan. And our plans began to unravel when we’d just completed a super technical section and we found ourselves running a little behind schedule. It was getting late but we decided to push through to the next village that had accommodation. It was raining, starting to get cold and the mosquitoes were biting when we finally arrived at our destination. But there was no one around and the contact number we’d been given wasn’t answering. Then we noticed this guy approaching on a quad bike who told us the owner of the cabin had gone fishing and couldn’t be contacted.”

Laughing as she reminisces, I’m mentally putting myself in that same scenario and wondering what I would decide to do? With no accommodation available, the pair pitching their tent in the parking lot before cooking a meal of pasta. A good reminder that it helps to be self-sufficient and always carry what you need for those just-in-case situations.

“The most stressful aspect of our Ride To Ski trip was getting all the equipment sorted before setting off. Malva’s bike arrived by mail with a bent derailleur hanger so that was a last minute hassle. But because of all this rushing around, the actual trip felt relatively stress free.”

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I rather guiltily admit to Henna that I found myself smiling at the scene from the film which shows them riding up this incredibly steep road with Malva getting slower and slower until she eventually comes to a halt and tips over.

“That was on the first night and it was a 25% ramp,” laughs Henna. “And I later learnt that it was Malva’s first ever bike packing trip. And Sami—who cycles a lot—had only skied twice that season. So considering the circumstances, I think we managed pretty well.”

Keen to point out that she doesn’t consider herself to be a professional cyclist or snowboarder, Henna is visibly more comfortable when I suggest that she’s a storyteller.

“I’m conscious that we see a lot of professional athletes doing incredible things but that’s not always the most relatable content for someone considering riding a bike for the first time. So if I can bring my amateur adventures to life and share them in a way that inspires people to go exploring themselves, then maybe that will translate to amazing experiences when they spend time outdoors?”

Growing up in Finland, time spent outdoors meant biking to school all year round, whatever the weather. A willingness to contend with the vagaries of the seasons that Henna has carried through to adulthood.

“My Dad would spend time teaching us new skills like how to use a saw or light a fire. And I still find there’s a real sense of satisfaction from figuring out a problem. When I first embarked on my van Eldo’s renovation there was hour after hour of research on YouTube and Google—a van building bubble that took over my life for a few months. But now I get to enjoy the result of all that hard work and it’s what ties me and Eldo so closely together.”

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Clearly tenacious by nature and always willing to seek out a solution, my thoughts turn to another project that saw Henna experimenting with the concept of light packing; carrying everything she needed for an overnighter in a 14L backpack.

“I do get a certain sense of satisfaction in seeing how little I need to carry. And that’s another aspect that I love about travelling by bike. How once you’ve invested in a few essential pieces of equipment—a gas stove, a tent, a sleeping bag and mat—then you’re basically good to go.”

Is there a piece of kit that Henna’s never without, I wonder?

“I pretty much always carry an emergency blanket. Just in case,” she answers with a laugh. “And in the Nordics, whether it’s summer or winter, you always travel with a down jacket.”

So there’s never a time when Henna decides to stay inside, under her duvet?

“I do love sleeping. But usually I know that if I’ve planned something, then it will make me feel so much better. So that’s the motivation I need to get myself moving. And spending time outdoors is where I feel most relaxed. Our day-to-day lives can be quite frantic but when I’m riding my bike or out on the slopes, it’s as if time is standing still and I don’t feel in a rush. For me, a really important way of managing both my physical and mental wellbeing.”

Conscious that Henna is 10 hours ahead and needs to rest before once again hitting the slopes in the morning, I finish up our conversation with one final question but with the proviso that she doesn’t have to answer. But I can’t help feeling curious whether she sees herself as a snowboarder who cycles, or a cyclist who skis?

“That’s a tricky one! But we have made a film called Ride To Ski. So maybe the truth lies somewhere in the middle?”

Photography with kind permission of Henna Palosaari / Feature image by Emil Nyeng

Alex Roszko / Fast, fun and easy

December 13, 2023September 8, 2024Posted in ConversationTagged alex roszko, bikepacking, gravel, gravel bikes, gravel racing, pas normal studios, Photography, roszkoLeave a comment

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.

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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.

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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?

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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].

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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

Ian Boswell / Shifting perspectives

November 29, 2023September 8, 2024Posted in InterviewTagged gravel, gravel bikes, gravel racing, ian boswell, Specialized bikes, unbound, wahooLeave a comment

The last time I sat down to chat with Ian Boswell, he was fresh from winning his second-ever gravel race. That the race just happened to be Unbound made for a compelling story—retired professional road cyclist tries his hand at emerging gravel discipline and comes away with the sport’s biggest, most prestigious, prize.

A little over two years since this momentous result, Ian continues to combine his gravel racing with a role at Wahoo in athlete liaison, hosting his ‘Breakfast with Boz’ podcast and the newfound joys of becoming a first-time dad. And as we pick up from where we left off—discussing the balance he seeks between family life and career commitments—we dig down into the growing pains of the gravel scene, consider Ian’s motivation to carry on racing, and explore his shifting perspectives on competition and community.

Still bearing a close physical resemblance to his World Tour days—he cuts a slim and athletic figure—Ian’s taking our call from his farmhouse home in rural Vermont. With the region famed for its resplendent Fall foliage, I’m wondering whether his 10-acre smallholding is still a riot of colour?

“Vermont looks its best in late September, early October. Now it’s just dismal,” he responds with a smile.

“So has it transitioned to mud season?” I ask.

“It’s more like stick season with the trees all losing their leaves, and we’re all still waiting for the first proper snowfall.”

Referencing Ian’s much-documented dislike for mud, our talk turns to this year’s Unbound where overnight rain turned parts of the course into a quagmire. “Oh, goodness. I despise it with all my heart,” he admits. “But at least I was in the lead group ahead of the main field so we could take to the grass at the side of the road before that also got all beat up. It’s a hard enough event without having to contend with thick, gloopy mud. And it came so early that some people’s races were over after only 10 miles. Broken gearing and all other kinds of mayhem.”

As it’s been rumoured that a re-route was always an option for the event organisers, I’m curious to know Ian’s thoughts on the decision to leave in those muddy sections.

“My initial thoughts were perhaps not but that’s based on my own feelings concerning mud. If you look at the cost for people entering Unbound and the effort it takes in simply getting to Emporia, then to have your race ending after only a few miles must be incredibly disappointing. But to keep the route as planned was also a nice reminder of what this race started out as.”

“Which was?” I prompt.

“Back in the day the field was way smaller and it attracted a certain type of experienced cyclist,” Ian points out. “They knew how to break a chain and fix a flat. They knew not to shift if their derailleur was clogged. But now that gravel has really blown up, you hear people talking about rolling resistance and aerodynamics. Which is maybe a natural evolution of the sport but all that goes out the window when your wheels won’t turn.”

“And that’s a good thing?” I question.

“It’s a reminder that Unbound is still an adventure,” he suggests. “And that all those other skills are still incredibly important.”

Contrasting the previous two muddy editions of Unbound with the UCI World Gravel Championships held in Veneto, Italy, I question whether this illustrates two very different approaches to racing gravel.

“In my opinion, it’s kind of cool because we’re not defining the sport to be one thing or another,” Ian replies. “In the eyes of the UCI, gravel looks like 160 km with 50% of the course on road. North American gravel races are all totally unique and defined by the geography of the locale.”

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This mention of Europe prompts me to ask Ian about a recent trip to Nice where he attended a friend’s wedding.

“It’s funny to go on vacation to somewhere you know really well. There’s no need to research where to eat or visit which is super relaxing. And it was also the first trip my wife and I have taken without our daughter.”

As Ian was also over in France earlier in the year covering the Tour de France, our conversation moves to the lifestyle of today’s professional cyclists compared to when Ian was racing the World Tour. “I think the biggest thing that’s changed is the psyche of the riders today. To get a rider of my generation to live the lifestyle that’s required of the modern pro—measuring your sleep, weighing in every day, not going out for a beer—would possibly be seen as too much of a sacrifice?”

“When I was training out of Nice with Chris Froome and Richie Porte,” Ian continues, “we’d always have a coffee stop. For the current generation, that’s all irrelevant as there’s no measurable benefit of a mid-ride coffee. For them, the perspective of what being a pro cyclist looks like has completely changed. And when we say that racing is now harder, that’s the normality for the young pros just entering the sport. When they join a team at age 16, they’re already living a life of sacrifice and discipline. They find comfort in measuring their training stress, glycogen levels, their sleep score. If I was living like the current crop of pro cyclists, I would have a very short career. But that’s not to say the same applies to them. It’s what they signed up for.”

Recalling the last time we spoke, Ian had just announced that he was going to be a first-time dad; a fact he inadvertently let slip filming the final scene of a Wahoo documentary. So after a two-year intervening period, I wonder how he’s coping with balancing professional commitments with fatherhood.

“Well, it’s not without its challenges,” he laughs. “Personally, I truly cannot imagine raising a child and still being in the World Tour, where your sleep and recovery are so super important. If our daughter is sick, I’m still going to give her a hug and a kiss. Whereas if you’re preparing for the Tour de France?”

“It’s funny how our priorities change,” I observe.

“She’s coming up on two years old and starting to talk. And you hear little footsteps around the house which is a joy. So it’s been one of the most amazing things in my life, but you definitely need to reevaluate your use of time. To the extent that we seriously question what we did before we had our daughter.”

This mention of time management—Ian fitting in his training around dad duties and a full-time job with Wahoo—and I can’t help but wonder if there’s any way having a child can make him a better gravel racer?

“My goal is always to do the best that I can and to finish each and every race safely. After an event, my daughter doesn’t care if I finished first or in last place, but maybe there’s a sense of increased purpose in what I’m trying to achieve?”

Maybe, I suggest, he could adopt a similar strategy to Vermont neighbour and fellow gravel racer Ted King who takes his wife and young family on the road for months on end; driving from one race to the next in an RV. “I understand the appeal,” Ian replies with a smile. “But our life here in Vermont is so labour intensive and the racing season is when you most want to be home on the farm. We love where we live and the summer is when the sun is shining and the garden needs our attention.”

With home and family obviously a priority, Ian still manages to contend a number of races throughout the year—the 2023 season getting underway with a trip to South Africa to ride Cape Epic alongside fellow ex-pro and podcaster Mitch Docker. With the pair signing up for the amateur category—Ian is quick to point out he would never describe himself as a professional mountain biker—to their surprise this was the first year that an amateur leader’s jersey was up for grabs and they subsequently came away with the win. A result, I suggest, that might make him consider entering next year’s Lifetime Grand Prix with its mix of gravel and mountain bike races?

“Let me put it this way. I’ve already spent a little over 10 years on the World Tour being told when and where to race.”

My immediate thought being that’s a no?

“But funnily enough,” Ian continues, “I did actually apply to race the Grand Prix back in 2022 but then a couple of days prior to them announcing who had a place, I emailed to ask if they’d withdraw my application.”

“What prompted you to change your mind?” I ask.

“I just got to thinking that I really didn’t want to take a spot away from some up-and-coming rider whose life could be so dramatically changed by participating in the series. And with the Grand Prix, you’re chasing points at every race. But if I get a flat at Unbound, I can choose to just cruise in and it doesn’t really matter. I can make that mental switch because my day isn’t ruined.”

Although Ian still enjoys racing, he clearly no longer has anything to prove; choosing to race on his own terms and not worry about the outcome of every race. Even to the extent of riding certain events on an e-bike from the back of the field as neutral support. “I spent the better part of my whole adult life chasing the performance end of cycling. Whereas this approach allows me to view the sport from a totally different perspective,” he explains.

Coming over as very grounded in what he does and doesn’t want to do, I wonder whether the fact he won Unbound—arguably gravel’s biggest race—takes away any perceived pressure to keep searching for the next result. Is it a case of, okay, I’ve done it, I’ve won the big one, and I don’t need to worry about anything anymore?

“I do question whether there’s a basic human desire for people to return to something they’ve already accomplished,” he suggests thoughtfully. “But I suppose the difference is that I can continue to race at Unbound without it compromising my life at home. I’m not away at altitude camp or moving us all over to Europe so I can train better. So within the parameters I set myself for our quality of life as a family, I’m still able to perform. If I was finishing Unbound in 80th place after a clean race, then maybe I’d be thinking it was time to hang up my racing wheels and go and do something else?”

A response that maybe skirts around the question of how it feels to win an event—and win it at his first attempt—that for many professionals is the gravel Holy Grail? But he nevertheless returned for the subsequent two editions and came away with a 3rd and 5th. Remarkably consistent, I suggest, for such a gnarly event?

“For the past two years, Unbound has come down to a bunch sprint and that’s after 200 miles of hard riding. So for me to be still contesting the race in that front group is fulfilment enough. Winning is great but at the same time, part of my personal journey is whether I can still trade blows with these other riders.”

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It’s at this point in our conversation that I mention Ian’s recent appearance at Steamboat dressed up as ‘gravel beef’ for the fancy dress hill climb. A tongue-in-cheek response, I presume, to the pushback he received on social media after expressing his opinions on riders taking turns and pulling through on a pace line.

“It all came back to my first experience at Unbound when we had a group of five, riding at the front and all taking a turn,” Ian explains. “There was no hiding and we raced in the knowledge that the strongest rider would take the win. Such a fair and equal battle with a level of respect and admiration for each other.”

“Are you suggesting that’s changing?” I ask.

“I come from the World Tour where if you win, you get more money and maybe a bigger team. But in gravel, we have this opportunity to redefine what success looks like. And what I find a little frustrating—and I should say that I’m enjoying the tail end of a racing career but my future isn’t defined by the results I now have—is that I’m trying to look out for the next generation of riders. With this increased focus on professionalism, we’re in danger of falling back into this default mode of what brands and the media see as racing success. And it doesn’t have to be that way. Gravel can be something totally new and different and nothing like the structure of road racing.”

It’s here I mention that at recent editions of Unbound, some riders had four or five people in their support crew—washing bikes, changing wheels, handing out nutrition—almost like an F1 pitstop. And I know that Ian, speaking on a podcast, suggested that each rider could have a crate into which they could add anything they might need but they, themselves, had to handle the stop and therefore level the playing field.

“That was one of the coolest things I felt about my first Unbound in 2021,” he reminisces. “That theoretically anyone could register, roll up, race and win—there was very little barrier to entry. You needed a bike, you needed to be at the start line and you could win the biggest gravel race in the world. Not incredibly likely but possible.”

“And now?”

“The more money gravel racing attracts, the more professionalism we see and the greater the barrier—not necessarily to entry—but to winning. Because there’s the argument that now you need a large support crew and a power washer in order to be competitive.”

Not wanting to dwell solely on seemingly negative aspects of a sport that has exploded in popularity over the past years, I suggest we flip it 180 and look at what gravel’s got right over the past year.

“I say credit to the UCI for closing the course,” Ian immediately fires back. “It’s incredibly safe for the racers.”

“But maybe not possible for a race like Unbound?” I suggest.

“You simply can’t close 200 miles of roads for 20 hours,” agrees Ian. “There’s a 10-hour gap between the fastest riders and people crossing the line after midnight. But as speeds get faster, the level of risk that people are prepared to take also gets higher because there’s more at stake. At the sharp end of any gravel field, racing is a job. There are bonuses if you win. And I’ve listened to so many safety speeches before races get underway that mention riding on open roads. But no one actually follows the rules of the road and it can be chaotic. Oddly part of the excitement but it can also lead to crashes. So, yes, safety needs to become a bigger concern.”

“Your day job is looking after athlete liaison for Wahoo,” I ask. “Have you seen any changes in this role over the past couple of years?”

“This isn’t particularly unique to Wahoo,” suggests Ian, “but the reasons brands now choose to work with athletes is changing. When I was racing the World Tour, the perceived wisdom was the better your results, the more money you made and the bigger sponsors you attracted. It was a well-recognised ladder to success.”

“But now?”

“That’s still largely the case but we have other perspectives on where you can get a return on your investment. Oftentimes a successful athlete is validating your product but is that quite a niche audience and maybe one that’s already highly engaged? So when you compare that approach to certain YouTubers who might have a far broader reach, you get brands putting a value on this grassroots engagement.”

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Sensing a shift in marketing strategy, I’m wondering how Ian himself views the need to keep pace with the demands of a world driven by social media. A career professional before building an audience on Instagram was viewed with the same level of scrutiny as an athlete’s power files, does he welcome this brave new world?

“I came up through this very clear structure of what it took to become a paid athlete,” he replies. “You do better, you train harder, you keep your head down and put the work in. But now? We live in a world where people can be influential irrespective of whether they cross the line in first place. They’ve grown a huge following and people really listen to what they have to say.”

“So your view of sport is changing?” I suggest.

“When I first came to this role, my thinking was we should sponsor the biggest teams and the best athletes. But I see people out there who are definitely not winning events but have an incredibly important role in building and representing their community. That might take the form of leading a weekly group ride in a small town in middle America; showing new riders how to clip in or explaining why you shouldn’t cross chain. And I’ve come to understand that these people are just as valuable to support as the athletes we see crossing the finish line in first place.”

Hearing the excitement in his voice, it’s clear Ian enjoys the challenges that change within the sport present. That what matters most is to see people succeed in their cycling goals, whether that’s finishing a race or simply connecting with friends.

“So often in sport,” he continues, “we focus solely on the elite. Which is why I really enjoyed riding Steamboat from the back and mixing it up with people on their first gravel event. Because there’s no one who shows up in the pro field at Unbound whose aim for the day is simply to finish. Whereas for the vast majority of riders, that’s their one goal for the event.”

“Which,” I presume, “is super inspiring?”

“For the longest time, my view of cycling was this very narrow window of, if they’re not doing it like me—if they’re not skinny and super fit—then why would they ride a bike? But now I have a much broader view of what cycling can be. Some people use a bicycle to connect with friends, others to commute or to grow a community. And what’s been so fascinating is to see how the bicycle can represent so many varied opportunities to different sorts of people.”

With this talk of community, I’m still smiling at the thought of the 2021 Unbound winner riding an e-bike and handing out gels to the back of the field at Steamboat Gravel.

“To be honest,” he laughs, “most of the people I met had no idea who I was.”

A typically self-deprecating response and just one more example of his refreshingly grounded sense of self. And perhaps going some way to explain how he answers my final question; whether he can offer an example of life’s simple pleasures that help him feel content and satisfied?

Without a moment’s hesitation, he quips back, “That’s easy. Mowing my lawn.”

“A simple pleasure?” I respond.

“So many aspects of my life have no finish line. You win Unbound and people ask if you can win it again. But when I’m sitting on my tractor, mowing the field, there’s a beginning and a defined end. When you’re done, you’re done. You can’t do anything more. And there’s a distinct comfort in that feeling.”

Ian Boswell

All photography by Alex Roszko for Specialized Bicycle Company