Tag: gravel racing

Amity Rockwell / Other things too

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“How can I put this? I love bikes and I love what I do. But I also love a lot of other things too.”

Bursting onto the gravel scene with her 2019 win at Unbound, Amity Rockwell quit her barista job and turned professional. And now, as she prepares for another season of racing, Amity reflects on her journey so far: from first running to then riding, how she strives to balance a life lived under public scrutiny, and her take on gravel’s ongoing search for identity. A freewheeling conversation that takes in everything from Amity’s own coffee order to the very reasons she rides.

cyclespeak
Hi Amity. Looks like you’re calling from home?

Amity 
That’s right. I’m in Lake Tahoe right now. Up in the mountains so we have plenty of snow. I live at 6,500 ft and most of the peaks are pushing 8,000 ft around here.

cyclespeak
I saw a post by Pete Stetina who lives near you and he was checking for bears before he let his dogs out.

Amity
There’s a few of us gravel racers that live up here. It’s like a Californian altitude retreat and we’re quite a crew. And we do have bears but they’re not dangerous. No one gets attacked—they just want your food. You’re actually excited when you spot one.

cyclespeak
It’s morning for you so I guess you start the day with a coffee?

Amity
I’ve already had my coffee and now moved onto tea. It’s so cold up here that I need a warm beverage at all times. But I am a big coffee person—that was my job before bikes became my sole professional focus.

cyclespeak
So how do you make your coffee at home?

Amity
I just make myself a pour-over. Nice and simple.

cyclespeak
And if you were ordering at a café?

Amity
Drip.

cyclespeak
Not an espresso based drink?

Amity
Just a mug of whatever batch brew they’re serving. That’s the best way to judge a place. If the drip’s not good then forget it. It’s the core of any coffee operation.

cyclespeak
That’s a good tip. And while we’re talking about your recommendations, what’s your take on ride snacks?

Amity
I usually carry sandwiches made with the bread that I bake. So a nice peanut butter and marmalade.

cyclespeak
Interesting. Marmalade rather than jelly?

Amity
I make a lot of marmalade [laughs].

cyclespeak
Smooth or rough cut?

Amity
Rough. And it’s probably very non-traditional but I’ve given some to my British friends and they approved.

cyclespeak
Your name, Amity, sounds a little unfamiliar to my English ear. Is it typically North American?

Amity
I’ve never actually met another Amity [laughs]. My Mom is a total hippy and I think she just wanted me to have an original name. And she came across it because of her friend’s dog.

cyclespeak
So you’re named after your Mum’s friend’s dog?

Amity
I guess so. In a weird way. And it means friendship and goodwill which is kind of nice. But that’s also why it’s used ironically in a lot of horror movies and it’s also the town in Jaws.

cyclespeak
That’s right. It is.

[Amity laughing]

cyclespeak
I was intrigued by how much care you took arranging the sliced pieces of avocado in the Old Pueblo film for Wahoo. Does that reflect your personality?

Amity 
I’m sure it does. And I wasn’t doing it consciously. I’ve done it like that for as long as I can remember—way before I posted about it on Instagram. And when I did put up a video, it got way more views than any of my cycling related content [laughs].

cyclespeak
You mentioned your love of baking and we know you slice avocado very proficiently. Any other hidden talents?

Amity
Oh, gosh.

[pause while Amity is thinking]

I do tend to irritate a good deal of my friends because, everything I do, I’m usually very good at. And I don’t mean to sound full of myself. I just don’t have any time or energy to do things poorly. So if I get into something, I have zero chill about it. I won’t accept not doing it to the highest possible level that I can manage. But I’ve always been somewhat of a perfectionist [laughs].

cyclespeak
And how do you apply this perfectionism?

Amity
In college I did a lot of printmaking and I still draw a lot. People write in a journal but I tend to draw things to help sort my brain out. And I fully can see myself returning to more artistic pursuits once I’m done with bicycles.

cyclespeak
Speaking about bikes, how are your mechanic skills?

Amity
I’m decent. Maybe a little better than most professional racers because I didn’t have a particularly easy way into the sport. When I dropped out of college I got into coffee where I was making $12 something an hour. Not the kind of money you need to access the competitive end of the bike world. So my way around that was volunteering at a community bike workshop in Berkeley. And by putting in the hours there, helping people fix their bikes, I was able to acquire the skills I needed to work on my own bikes. Which is a big expense if you can’t do it yourself. And I could also buy tubes at wholesale prices [laughs].

cyclespeak
Useful skills to have.

Amity
If you’re riding 200 miles, there’s more chance that something will go wrong and having some idea of how to fix things helps you to not panic. I had a relatively clean race when I won Unbound but the year I came back and got second, I had a lot of issues but managed to keep moving. My shifting totally failed at mile 120 but I was able to fix it.

cyclespeak
It was your win at the 2019 Unbound that meant you could quit your barista job and turn professional. Is there anything you miss from those days?

Amity
Oh, absolutely. I miss having a set number of hours a day that I’m at work and then you’re done and you come home. You’re at peace and you can do whatever you want. There’s nothing to think about until you show up for work the next day. More and more – as I manage my own stuff and push my racing career – that’s what I dream about. The luxury of only doing something for a set number of hours per day and then having leisure time. But that’s always going to be the struggle when you turn a hobby into your job.

cyclespeak
Pete Stetina – who we’ve already mentioned – told me how he regularly puts in 50 hour weeks managing all his training, logistics and social media commitments. Does this sound familiar?

Amity
I don’t want to say that I’m not dedicated but I keep all the extra stuff to a minimum. I don’t have my own podcast and I don’t have some super organised approach to social media. So there’s not a huge amount of side projects alongside my racing. Stuff comes up, naturally, but I see those World Tour guys being so applied [laughs].

cyclespeak
I guess we all have varying degrees of focus?

Amity
How can I put this? I love bikes and I love what I do. But I also love a lot of other things too. Yes, I train and ride a lot but I try not to let that totally consume me.

cyclespeak
Is it fair to say you have a different relationship with the bike since turning professional?

Amity
100%. In some ways, it now feels like a job. Before it was my career, I made an explicit point of never riding if I truly didn’t want to. Because I knew it would result in me seeing riding in a negative light. And choosing to not ride would mean I’d want to ride twice as bad the next day and probably go twice as far.

cyclespeak
That makes sense.

Amity
I came to cycling after burning out pretty badly as a runner. My attitude then was you go out no matter what. It wasn’t even my job but that was the mentality I had at that time. But that meant I had to quit running completely which is why I now ride a bike.

cyclespeak
And listen to your body?

Amity
I do. But there’s also times when you don’t want to go out and then after a few minutes you’re loving it. And I have this superstition that it’s those days when I get to see the craziest sunset or PR a climb.

cyclespeak
Sometimes it can be a case of just getting out of the door?

Amity
It is! That’s the most infuriating thing about cycling—that it takes so long to kit up. You need to apply your sunscreen, lube your chain, pump up your tyres, make sure everything is charged. And if it’s cold there’s base layers, jackets and overshoes. Whereas with running, you just need a few moments of intention and you’re out there. With cycling, you have 30 minutes to come up with every excuse why you shouldn’t ride [laughs].

cyclespeak
There’s maybe the odd occasion but it’s rare that I regret a ride.

Amity
Living up here in Lake Tahoe, there are fewer barriers to getting outside. Literally across the road from me is one of the best climbs in California. I don’t need to put the bike in the car or slog through miles of suburbs. When I was living in San Francisco, you’ve got to carry your bike down however many steps and there’s way more traffic. Which is why riding with friends is so important. If you’ve made plans the day before, you don’t let them down.

cyclespeak
Looking back at that Unbound win, the start is quite frenetic with everyone jostling for position. Is it possible to prepare yourself specifically for this particular event? And what part does good fortune play in determining your result?

Amity
I don’t want to come off like a complete asshole but Unbound is not the hardest race that I’ve done. For me personally, I come from the Bay area where long hard rides are a thing and the dirt is pretty gnarly. I didn’t realise until after the fact but I’d done harder races before I rode my first Unbound.

cyclespeak
But it’s talked of with such reverence?

Amity
It’s insane and I do think that winning it was down to a combination of everything going well. Mentally, physically, mechanically, tactically. So, yes, it is a hard race to do well at but I also believe that it’s an achievable goal for most cyclists if they manage to fuel their ride.

cyclespeak
What got you to the start line?

Amity
It was Yuri Hauswald  – who lived not far from me – winning in 2015 that sent ripples through my neighbourhood when he took the top spot. That first made me think that if I worked really hard, then maybe in five years or so I could try racing the event. Meanwhile I’m going to these Grasshoppers which are a local gravel series. And there was one – I’m not even sure if it exists anymore – that was 80 or 90 miles of pavement with 9,000 ft of climbing followed by 20 miles of single track best suited to a full-suspension mountain bike. But you’re on a gravel bike which isn’t really suitable for either section and it’s 100°F in the shade. And that’s what I think about when anyone asks what’s the hardest event I’ve ever raced. There are lots of things about Unbound that make it unique but it’s nice to have that Grasshopper in my back pocket. And it took nearly three years of doing fast, hectic race starts for me to be really comfortable in those situations. But once you deal with the nerves, it’s kind of a gift in a way. Because the first two hours go by and you’ve done almost 50 miles and you’ve had a bunch of help and barely pedalled.

cyclespeak
I believe there are some changes for this year’s Unbound?

Amity
It’s going to be a lot different because they’re separating the elite field from everyone else. And I honestly don’t have a strong opinion either way. A few years ago gravel was so small that it was really important for women to be a part of the main field. And it’s kind of cool that riders like me can just come out of relatively nowhere and do well. So perhaps there’s an argument that there are people just outside of the elite field who could legitimately win.

cyclespeak
And a counter viewpoint?

Amity
On the flip side, possibly there are questions of safety. The more there is on the table, the dumber some people will behave—myself included [laughs]. So maybe it kind of encourages this sense of recklessness. But that’s what’s nice about having a bunch of different race organisers. Everybody can make their own decisions on what kind of race they want to run. Some things are going to stick and some aren’t—there’s not one answer to how you should run a gravel race. I’ve been doing Crusher in the Tushar for years and they’ve always separated the men and women’s starts. But it’s worked because you very quickly reach this two hour climb which sorts things out. But Kansas? It’s a total rush to start with this huge field all wanting the same position. Personally I love that—it’s part of racing. Nobody enters a crit and complains about elbows. It is what it is.

cyclespeak
Riding 200 miles on gravel must give you lots of time to think. Or are you totally focused on your placing, nutrition, listening out for leaking sealant?

Amity
Oh God no. I’m all over the place. Usually I’m playing music in my head—the same three song lines on repeat. You can’t focus for 12 hours and I think the ability to let your brain do whatever it wants is a key aspect of being a successful endurance athlete. Generally, we’re pretty good at entertaining ourselves for hours on end [laughs].

cyclespeak
I guess sponsor partnerships are a vital element of racing professionally and you very recently announced a new relationship with Pas Normal Studios. Have you managed to dry out after that weekend of riding over in the San Francisco Bay area?

Amity
Only just [laughs].

cyclespeak
It looked really wet.

Amity
So wet that it was kind of funny. After a certain point, everything is so bad that you have to take a step back and look at it from a different perspective. And all it takes is two other people saying let’s do this and you’re out there.

cyclespeak
Do you ever train indoors?

Amity
It works great for some people but I’m not mentally strong enough for Zwift. The main reason I ride a bike is to spend time outside. So if the weather is particularly awful and I really don’t want to ride, then I’ll find something else to do. And I tend to do well at races in really terrible conditions which is probably because I will ride my bike in pretty much anything. Even up here when there’s 10 ft of snow either side of the road, if it’s over 40°F and not too icy then I’ll ride. Anything beats staying indoors and getting even more screen time than I already do.

cyclespeak
Your Instagram feed beautifully documents the strong friendships you’ve forged with other riders and industry professionals. You’re wearing Dominique Power’s sweater in her Camelbak shots of you—much to her sister’s amusement. Are these relationships incredibly important?

Amity
I guess that’s the short answer to why I’m doing what I’m doing. Like I said, previous to bikes I was a runner and that’s a very solitary pursuit. But I was fine with being a loner—I’ve always had the kind of personality that doesn’t need to be constantly socialising.

cyclespeak
But now that you ride bikes?

Amity
Cycling has been this crazy way to enjoy really strong female friendships that I never experienced growing up or at college. Super important but in an ironic way we’re all such good friends because we’re the type of people not to have a lot of close friends. Biking is this weird kind of enabler for all of us.

cyclespeak
So would you say the bike helps balance your life?

Amity
I think there was probably a time when that was the case but it can also work in the opposite direction.

cyclespeak
Interesting.

Amity
I do meet a lot of professional cyclists that let their life revolve around the bike. Which, in turn, means they’re incredibly good at what they do. But I don’t think I’d be successful as a traditional pro. Despite being pretty strong, I would never have made it in the road scene. I don’t have that single mindedness and I never will. So it’s such a blessing that we now have this weird discipline called gravel where you can still be very, very good without being 100% focused all the time.

cyclespeak
You’re known for standing up for beliefs and causes you feel are important. And you also reference on your Substack newsletter how difficult 2022 was. So I was wondering whether your public platform proves a challenge, a privilege or a mix of sometimes conflicting thoughts and emotions?

Amity
I suppose it’s fair to question why you should bother having such a public existence if you’re not going to use it for some purpose. And I do think there’s an obligation once you reach a certain level in the sport to shape it how you believe it should look moving forward. But do I enjoy it? I really don’t know.

[pause as Amity gathers her thoughts]

Amity
Attention is great. I love when I meet someone out on the trails and they know who I am. That’s always going to feel good. But I’m also envious of my friends who can be whoever they want to be on Instagram or decide not to post anything at all for six months. And when something happens, there’s no expectation that they should say anything about it.

cyclespeak
But you need to maintain a social media presence?

Amity
And I honestly don’t think it comes naturally to me. The one thing I have figured out is that it’s best not to think about it too much [laughs]. And I have a few rules such as not posting anything if I’m not 100% sure about what I’m saying. And I’ll also stick to my guns about certain issues which I think resonates with some people.

cyclespeak
I think they respect the fact that when you say something, it is you saying it.

Amity
That’s got me in hot water before.

[cyclespeak laughs]

Amity
There was some discourse – maybe about two years ago – about making all these rules in gravel. And I got so mad that I sat down and just cranked out this piece about the spirit of gravel. I have connections at VeloNews – mostly my friend Betsy Welch – and she immediately published it. Shortly after I had this major sponsor reach out to say they loved how I was out there, talking about stuff, but could I just give them a heads-up next time [laughs].

cyclespeak
We live and learn.

Amity
That’s the funny thing with sponsorship. I’m unapologetically myself – quite scrappy and totally self-sufficient – but then you get bigger brands coming in and wanting to support you but also wanting to have some amount of ownership over your brand and what you say and do.

cyclespeak
That sounds like it takes some navigating?

Amity
Trust is needed from both parties and that’s something I don’t always find easy. I can be quite stubborn and I do like to say what’s on my mind. So some relationships work and some don’t but for the most part it’s been good.

cyclespeak
I guess life isn’t all plain sailing [smiles].

Amity
It wasn’t any different in coffee. I’m sure all my employers back then found me occasionally difficult [laughs].

cyclespeak
Speaking of difficulties, I listen to a lot of different podcasts that reference the growing pains of the North American gravel scene.

Amity
It’s like adolescence with gravel trying to figure out its core sense of identity.

cyclespeak
You must have noticed some changes over the past few years?

Amity
In 2016 I was racing road because back then, you couldn’t make a living in gravel. I’d show up to try and accumulate some points but they’d say the race didn’t qualify because the women’s field was so small. So gravel was this revelation because I wasn’t pigeonholed. We showed up, riding whatever bike we had and we all raced together. And the contrast between those two extremes was so insane to me. It’s done more for women’s equality in cycling than anything else I can think of.

cyclespeak
Sharing the same roll out for example?

Amity
What gravel has done is give us this space to outwardly demonstrate how strongly women can race. Which perhaps is why you see more equality in sponsorship, prize money and coverage when compared to road racing.

cyclespeak
What does your season look like in terms of racing? Will we see a return to Unbound?

Amity
I love Unbound and see that as an absolute key aspect of my success there. A lot of people don’t seem to enjoy it and maybe it’s something they feel they have to do? It’s not for everybody and that’s absolutely fine. Personally, I feel it’s a fantastic event. The energy is insane and the course is a perfect distance for me. Enough time for everything to fall apart and be put back together again. And succeeding in something difficult and challenging is what keeps me out on the bike all year.

cyclespeak
What else is planned?

Amity
I’ve got a 24 hour cross-country race. And I’m thinking how cool it would be to set a FKT* but you can imagine how much can happen in 24 hours [laughs]. Maybe I can only ride for 13 hours because that’s the longest I’ve ever ridden. And I’m also finally getting out to Kenya for the Migration Race. Never been to Africa, never raced in those conditions. Literally no clue what that’s going to be like [laughs].

*Fastest Known Time

cyclespeak
Sounds super exciting.

Amity
It’s half events that I know and love. And the other half? Who knows what will happen. But I took that chance at Kansas and it led me here.

cyclespeak
Putting aside racing, what would a pretty perfect day look like?

Amity
I always say I prefer training to racing. So a perfect day would start with a good cup of coffee followed by a long, mountain bike ride. And then coming home and getting to do something creative. I really enjoy cooking and baking so something with food would be satisfying on a personal level.

cyclespeak
That sounds like a nice, peaceful day.

Amity
I sometimes make the straightforward seem a little complicated. But generally? My life is full of pretty simple things.

Amity Rockwell

Feature image with kind permission of Dominique Powers

Mattia de Marchi / A dollar in the pocket

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“In gravel, we all line up together.”

After taking an early race lead, a final non-stop stint of riding saw Mattia de Marchi less than 100 km from the finish line of Badlands 2021. The virtual field of dot watchers globally urging him on to victory then noticed his tracker had stalled—as if Mattia had pulled up and stopped on the side of the road. What later became apparent was a crash in the town of Murtas saw Mattia dusting himself down and continuing without realising he’d lost his tracker. But rather than any sense of despair when it did finally sink in that his progress wasn’t being recorded, the Italian gravel racer calmly shared his location with the race organisers over WhatsApp before pushing on for the win.

“Even after riding for close to 750 km and without any sleep for the final 48 hours, I don’t remember any moments of panic. But I think our heads have a crazy strength and can do things that we can’t even imagine.”

With this combination of mental and physical resilience carrying the day, it helps frame Mattia’s mention of always keeping a dollar in his pocket. A reference to leaving enough in the tank that, whatever the eventuality, he can marshall reserves even when sleep deprived and at the limits of his endurance.

“There’s a difference in events of about 48 hours where the tendency is to start very strong – almost like a Gran Fondo – and then find a pace that allows you to advance. In multi-day races you look for regularity and minimising your stops. You can gain or lose hours each day depending on your strategy for eating and sleeping. But it’s a delicate balance and you don’t always get it right.”

Growing up near the Italian city of Venice, bikes were always a family passion and Mattia fondly remembers visiting the Udine region to the north where he would ride with his cousins. As an energetic 9 year old, the racing handlebars and coloured helmets were what first delighted but it wasn’t long before he recognised the competitor within.

“I don’t like to lose and I’m prepared to dig deep if I find someone stronger than me in my way. But I was definitely not born with extraordinary gifts. I’ve worked hard and made sacrifices to be who I am now. And I’m not just talking about being strong on the bike.”

This mental strength was needed when Mattia turned professional but didn’t quite make it to the World Tour—a stage win at the Tour of China proving a highlight and demonstrating an innate talent that has continued to reap rewards since a switch to gravel at the 2020 Atlas Mountain Race.

“That first gravel event proved quite a contrast after racing professionally on the road. There, you have mechanics in the car shadowing the peloton but when I broke my handlebars and cut my thumb in the North African mountains, I had to deal with these issues on my own. Even now, I always carry a tube of superglue when I’m racing to help fix things and seal up any open wounds.”

With experience teaching the tactical advantage that paying attention to details offers – in a race as gnarly as Unbound, a cut tyre wall can lead to a significant delay or even a DNF – Mattia would still argue that it takes luck as well as skill to secure a win. And that mental resilience is just as important as the ability to plug a tyre.

“It all stems from the head. If you really want something, you have to go for it. Listening to your body and training makes a significant difference. But you have to be hungry!”

The thought of racing against Lachlan Morton at Badlands certainly appealed to Mattia—the Education First rider, a source of inspiration with his Alternative Calendar of gravel, mountain biking and ultra-endurance events. Morton ultimately chose not to defend his Badlands win from the previous year but the pair did line up at the 2022 Traka and what ensued proved to be an entertaining mix of determination and doggedness. After taking an early lead, the pair battled it out until Morton’s seatpost broke. Fixing it (after a fashion) with a combination of duct tape and prayers, the Australian chased but not before Mattia took his second Traka win in successive years.

“I’ve spent three weeks in Africa with Lachlan. Racing our gravel bikes but also the transfers in between by jeep and bus. And Lachlan is as you see him—genuine, true, and most of all you can tell he has fun riding his bike.”

This sense of camaraderie between competitors is often mooted as a significant difference between the professional world of road racing and the privateer model of the gravel calendar. And looking back at his own road career, Mattia well remembers how his teammates all sat wearing headphones on team bus transfers – himself included – and that sharing a few beers was reserved for the final evening before flights the following morning. Some might argue the antithesis of the simple pleasures that riding a bike affords and one possible point of inspiration that led Mattia and friends to found the Enough Cycling Collective.

“The idea was born from what fundamentally makes us happy—riding a bicycle and sharing this joy with people from all walks of life. It’s our vision to help them grow through cycling in all its different and wide forms. And if you look at gravel, it isn’t just dirt. Gravel is something that every person can experience in a way they like it best. There’s fewer of the boundaries that still persist in the world of road cycling. In gravel, we all line up together.”

This mention of riding together leads to Mattia admitting – with a smile – that he wasn’t brave enough to enter this year’s Silk Road Mountain Race singularly—preferring instead to ride as a pair. Even so, the brutal nature of such an extreme parcours took its toll and Mattia was forced to withdraw. A difficult decision made harder by the thought of leaving his friend to continue on alone.

“I often talk about listening to your body but before the Silk Road Race I didn’t. I hate not accomplishing something and I tried to move forward with my head but sometimes it’s not enough. But you learn a lot from these experiences and in the following weeks I took some time for myself and especially for my body. I’m fortunate enough to travel the world and do events that many people can only dream about. But still, it is not as easy as some may think. You take this year’s wet Unbound—it was a fucking battle. But over the years I’ve tried to work on not being affected with weather conditions. If it rains, it rains on everyone!”

Closing out the season in his first national jersey at the UCI Gravel Championships close to where he grew up, Mattia was pictured pre-race making pizza and chatting informally with his supporters—a lighthearted interlude that reflects his innate capacity to seek enjoyment in life’s simple pleasures.

“I’m constantly travelling from race to race and feel very fortunate that I can discover these new cultures. But I’m also very attached to my home and always like to come back. Maybe I focus a little too much on the bike, so spending time with family is very important. Life is not always straightforward and it’s important to find a balance. And like I say, keep a dollar in your pocket because you never know what might happen next [smiles].”

Mattia de Marchi

Photography by Sami Sauri (including feature image) and Chiara Redaschi

See individual images for photo credits

Sami Sauri / Hours in the day

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From snow-capped mountains to desert sands, the past year has seen a plethora of professional projects for photographer and creative producer Sami Sauri. Based in Girona but rarely in repose, her full-gas approach to work and play brings with it a creative energy that enlivens each and every shoot. Open and honest in how she depicts the highs and lows of a life lived on the road, Sami’s innate sense of fun threads through a conversation that casts a humorous light on lost bikes, a rain soaked search for surf and her wishful desire for more hours in the day.

Sami
Sorry I’m late.

cyclespeak
No problem whatsoever.

Sami
I was getting a new bike fitted and it took longer than expected. And then I got home and the bike wouldn’t fit.

cyclespeak
Fit where?

Sami
In the elevator [laughs]. I had to take the front wheel off and then I couldn’t find my keys.

cyclespeak
What kind of bike is it?

Sami
A YT Industries. They’re my new sponsor.

cyclespeak
We all love a new bike day.

Sami
I’ve got a big trip coming up and don’t want to fuck up my body which is why I arranged the bike fit.

cyclespeak
Speaking of looking after yourself, did something happen yesterday when you were riding back to Girona from Andorra?

Sami
My bag flew off on the second big downhill section. Very strange because I’d checked the straps and I’ve used the same setup on some pretty gnarly stuff. And the funny thing is, I didn’t even realise. I kept going and it turns out there was this car behind me, trying to attract my attention by peeping their horn. But I had my music on and a buff over my ears. Luckily, I had to stop at a red light. The car pulled up and the guy driving explained what had happened. I was like, ‘What!’

cyclespeak
If it wasn’t for that stop light, who knows how far you would have ridden?

Sami
Exactly. And the bag was holding my computer and hard drives. But another car had stopped and they’d picked it up from where it had fallen. Luckily, on a previous trip I’d been working with a sponsor called Urban Armour Wear that makes protective cases for phones and laptops. So at least my stuff was super well protected [laughs].

cyclespeak
And you provided the perfect real-world test.

Sami
In Spanish, to be lucky, we say we have a flower in the ass.

cyclespeak
The past few days I’ve been busy working out what questions to ask you but there’s just so much to cover over the past year.

[Sami laughing]

cyclespeak
And I can’t start a call with four pages of questions. It’s ridiculous. So I’ve had to hone it down as you never sit still. 

Sami
So it’s the highlights?

cyclespeak
That’s right. So starting with the tail end of last year and you were premiering the first episode of Into the Atlantic Islands. Towing a surfboard behind your bike up those Madeira climbs looked hard work?

Sami
They were so steep and I did it wearing sneakers.

cyclespeak
How was the response to the film?

Sami
Looking back, maybe it was a mistake to split it up into little mini episodes rather than one full-length film. And I always find it difficult to edit myself. Hearing your own voice and seeing yourself on camera. And if you think about it in a marketing sense, we shot the film when it was sunny and warm but it had a wintertime release. So maybe a little out of context?

cyclespeak
And the audience response?

Sami
That was really good and we’re now taking those lessons learnt into our second chapter.

cyclespeak
Shortly after your Madeira trip, you went off to Saudi Arabia to film the Dakar Rally.

Sami
That was an experience which I would happily do again. But spending 20 back-to-back days filming in the desert, I did really miss my bike. Kind of my body asking what the fuck I was doing?

cyclespeak
But shortly afterwards, you posted from Fuerteventura where you were taking a well-earned rest.

Sami
It’s a special place for me. Somewhere I go to recharge and relax. I ride but usually spend more time surfing. They have waves all the time so why not [laughs].

cyclespeak
And then quite a contrast in landscape when you visited your friend Gaby in the Alps to help celebrate her birthday. Is there a particular emotional connection you have with mountains?

Sami
Ahhh. Now you’ve got me. Because I’m finding it more and more.

cyclespeak
The call of the mountains?

Sami
There was a time when I was seriously planning on moving to Fuerteventura. There’s endless gravel riding and of course the surfing. Two sports that merge really well and work all of my body. Surfing is so chill with no phones or anything and you get a sense of discovery with your bike.

cyclespeak
But you decided not to move?

Sami
It’s a pretty small island so I’m still happy to stay in Girona for the time being. But the mountains appeal in both a personal and professional way. So I’m not going to say when but I’m already considering a move there.

cyclespeak
Andorra maybe or the Alps?

Sami
No, definitely the Alps.

cyclespeak
I can imagine you in a little cottage on the side of a mountain.

Sami
It might not be a place, exactly. Maybe I’ll just get a car or van and move around. I’m in this limbo at the moment trying to sort stuff out.

cyclespeak
After saying goodbye to Gaby, you’d planned to ride home but the weather was pretty awful so you decided to take a bus. And what happened next was pretty incredible?

Sami
The rain was torrential so I stopped in this middle of nowhere town. There was a restaurant but it only had things with meat available. So I just sat down with a tea and watched the rain get even heavier. I asked them if there was a bus and they told me it was round the corner before helping me find an online timetable.

cyclespeak
That sounds a better option than riding in the pouring rain.

Sami
The bus was running late so I was waiting at the stop in the freezing cold, wearing every layer I was carrying. There was a girl driving and she helped me put my bike underneath in the luggage compartment. But when I came to pay I realised I’d left my wallet in my bags so, once more, out into the rain and cold.

cyclespeak
You paid your fare and found a seat?

Sami
15 or 20 minutes later, the driver suddenly braked and brought the bus to a stop. She was shouting that the door was open but I didn’t immediately realise she was referring to the luggage compartment. And then it suddenly hit me and I raced down the steps and outside – not wearing any rain jacket – to discover my bike was missing.

cyclespeak
That must have been devastating?

Sami
My bike, my clothes, my computer, two hard drives containing recent projects. All missing.

cyclespeak
I can only imagine how that feels.

Sami
And then this car pulls up and explains that they’d been flashing us after they saw something fall out of the bus. I asked them to take me back along the road which they kindly agreed to do. And they were saying it was here, or maybe along here, or actually a little bit further. And all the time I was thinking, where the fuck is my bike!!

cyclespeak
So you couldn’t find it?

Sami
While all this was happening, thankfully the bus was waiting because my wallet and phone were still resting on my seat. So I thanked the car driver for trying to help and climbed back onto the bus to shelter from the rain. I called my friend who was putting me up for the night and I’ve never been so upset in my whole life—breathless, hardly able to speak and sobbing down the phone.

cyclespeak
How do you explain to someone that your bike fell out of a moving vehicle?

Sami
She offered to come and pick me up but I decided to stay on the bus and she’d meet me when we arrived in her town. An hour or two later – after a few more calls of me crying – we pulled up at the bus station. My friend and I were still hugging when I got a notification on my phone to say I’d received an email. This, it turned out, had been sent from a local police station to let me know they had my bike in detention [laughs].

cyclespeak
They’d arrested your bike?

Sami
Yes! And when my friend drove us over, there it was.

cyclespeak
But how did they know it belonged to you?

Sami
They’d opened the bags, powered up my laptop and saw my name on the log-in screen. Searching on Instagram, they’d found my profile and had sent me messages. But checking my Instagram feed was the last thing on my mind as I was panicking about my lost bike so I’d missed them. But from the profile they did manage to find my email and that finally worked.

cyclespeak
That’s quite some detective work!

Sami
And the funny thing is, the boyfriend of the girl I was staying with has this labelling machine and he made me name labels for everything I was carrying and my bike [laughs]. 

cyclespeak
Not long afterwards, you spent some time in Paris shooting for Rose Bikes. How did you find working in an urban environment with its street culture undertones?

Sami
That’s possibly one of my favourite shoots of the year. I love working with El Flamingo Films—the best times ever. And they always seem to use beautifully edgy models and locations that are random, remote and crazy places.

cyclespeak
Random and remote in Paris?

Sami
We went to this neighbourhood that definitely matched that description [laughs]. And I liked how Rose wanted to tell a different kind of story compared to the usual editorial content. We even featured an actual taxi driver in some of the scenes.

cyclespeak
After a spell of surfing and skiing, you signed up for the Gravel Augusta; a 450km route from Barcelona to Valencia with 4000m of climbing. An enjoyable return to long distance racing?

Sami
Looking back, my decision to sign up was crazy [laughs].

cyclespeak
But you raced it nonstop—the first woman home. Pretty impressive.

Sami
I’d been on a ride with some friends and then had lots of wine at a restaurant so I was completely shitfaced when I agreed to do it.

cyclespeak
And then the reality sinks in the following morning.

Sami
In my head, I had the best day ever on the bike. I hadn’t trained so I wasn’t focusing on my speed or where the other riders were. And then during the night section, I’d stopped for dinner – for an hour and a half [laughs] – when another girl arrived. That’s when I realised I was leading and when she asked if there was food available, I pointed the way inside before jumping on my bike.

cyclespeak
And off you went.

Sami
I was riding with this group of men but unfortunately they were too slow. It was 3:00am in the morning and I was feeling good. So I pushed on alone until about 6:00am when I thought I was going to die. 

cyclespeak
Time to refuel?

Sami
A coffee and doughnut at a gas station. And that got me through to the end.

cyclespeak
Without any focused preparation – only the basic fitness of your regular riding – you cover 450km in one go. Good for you!

Sami
But people should not do this [laughs].

cyclespeak
It’s a big ask, certainly.

Sami
And I do know what riding long distances over gravel feels like. So I would suggest working up to an event like this.

cyclespeak
You raced Unbound in 2019 – that’s 200 miles of gravel – and returned this year to photograph the event. Were you tempted to pin on a number and ride it again or happy to stay behind the camera?

Sami
The day before the start, I was ready to race it again. I had my bike with me and rode some of the first sections. And whenever I’m not racing, it always feels like I’m missing something. But on the day of the race, I was sooo happy that I was there as a photographer.

cyclespeak
Was it the weather?

Sami
It was super nice in the morning but then it started to rain. So I was out on the course – wearing a poncho – and sheltering in the car when it got super heavy.

cyclespeak
And you got your picture taken by Dominique Powers.

Sami
Yes! My God, that girl is amazing.

cyclespeak
You had a muscle injury after returning from the US and decided to take a break from Instagram to avoid the temptation of endless scrolling while you were resting up. Did you miss it?

Sami
It can get to be a habit so it’s nice to have time away from the platform. But you also have obligations to your sponsors so I’m still searching for that balance. I do enjoy sharing my adventures and I’ve made some great connections and friendships that way. It’s become another tool for messaging and reaching out to people.

cyclespeak
Another photoshoot – this time for Pas Normal Studios – took you to Iceland. I thought your photographs were particularly beautiful. A landscape you found inspiring?

Sami
The first time I visited Iceland – back in 2019 – I came back with this amazing impression. And the more I work, the more I understand how the right location for a shoot is one of the most important aspects. For me, it works best when I first discover these places by bike, so some of the locations for the Pas Normal campaign were inspired by racing the Rift.

cyclespeak
You returned to Iceland later this year for the next in your Atlantic Islands series. The riding didn’t go exactly to plan which you referenced very openly in a social media post. Do you feel it’s important to be honest about life’s highs and lows?

Sami
I’m been thinking a lot about this since I came back. Because I do wonder whether there are people that assume I’m flying around the world, living my best life, and it’s all flowers and rainbows. But that’s definitely not always the case.

cyclespeak
Is anyone’s life that perfect?

Sami
Some people choose to only post about the good times but I’m working my ass off and sometimes things don’t go to plan. And going back to Iceland, it wasn’t the cycling aspect of the trip but the surfing. You depend so much on the weather, which you can’t control. I have a limited number of days and if you don’t have waves, you don’t surf. And that’s basically what happened. I pedalled for 270km towing a trailer with my surfboard. In the rain. And then there’s no waves. I was disappointed and upset and it’s like when you have a partner. You take these emotions out on them.

cyclespeak
I think that happens to us all.

Sami
Well, in Iceland it was two of my friends. And afterwards I was super sad because I didn’t handle it very well. So after thinking over how I’d behaved, I did post about it. Maybe I was being too honest? Too much drama? But when these things happen, that’s real life. The ups but also the downs.

cyclespeak
The way you come across, it’s not contrived. You say how you feel and I believe people appreciate your honesty. Because everything isn’t curated.

Sami
The photo that went with the post was taken after riding six hours in the rain, only to find no waves. And my expression says it all—what the hell am I doing here? [laughs]

cyclespeak
In another post you mention wanting more hours in the day. Do you find it difficult to fit everything in?

Sami
Every single day I think the same. When I’m out of the house – maybe it’s a shoot that starts at 5:00am – then you have a structure and things usually work out. But at home? Today I was an hour late for our call because there’s never enough time—I’m still wearing my kit from the bike fit. So I could definitely do with a few more hours each day [laughs].

cyclespeak
Can I take you back to the start of the year when you made a post that mentioned how you were facing some life difficulties but looking forward to new decisions and experiences. And it ended with you reaffirming the joy and strength you get from riding your bike. Can I ask whether you’re enjoying life at the moment?

Sami
I definitely feel it’s been a good year in the sense that I said yes to everything I wanted to do and had time for. So I went all in, again, and that’s after promising myself that I would ride more than work. But that didn’t happen [laughs].

cyclespeak
Because there’s always the next project?

Sami
Maybe now, I’m reaching the point where I don’t feel the need to say yes to everything? And there’s so many good memories from the rides I have done this year. We recently released the film of me and my friend Henna bikepacking above the Arctic Circle—such a fun trip. And I’m heading back to Iceland to pick up where we left off. This time, hopefully with some waves and a happy Sami [laughs].

Feature images by Dominique Powers

All other imagery with kind permission of Sami Sauri / samisauri.com

Into the Atlantic Islands

María Guðmundsdóttir / Full gas and see what happens

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Beaming a broad smile towards the camera, María Guðmundsdóttir’s personality is writ large on her playful social media posts. A passionate advocate for more women cycling and multiple Icelandic National Cycling Champion, the past year has seen her racing a series of events with the Café du Cycliste Gravel Team. In a conversation punctuated with laughter, María discusses the reasons she rides, the joy she finds in time spent outdoors and why we should all dance a little more.

cyclespeak
You’re at home in Iceland. Is that where you usually work?

María
If I need people around me, I just go to a coffee house but most of the time I work from home.

cyclespeak
I’m intrigued by your family name: Guðmundsdóttir. Has this got a special meaning?

María
Here in Iceland – we are not many [laughs] – and every girl is named daughter of their father. 

cyclespeak
What was it like growing up as a child?

María
I was born on the west side of the island. Quite remote with high mountains and hard winters. I lived there until I was 20 years old and spent most of my spare time skiing. I just loved bad weather as it meant more snow.

cyclespeak
Do you have any personality traits that are typically Icelandic?

María
In Iceland, everything depends on the weather. You can make a plan but the chance of it not working out as you imagine is huge. So it’s really Icelandic to not think too much about things and we have this phrase Þetta Reddast that basically means ‘it will be fine’. And that’s very much the kind of person I am. I love to have my life open to whatever comes to me.

cyclespeak
You mentioned growing up skiing. So where does the bike fit in?

María
Naturally I had a bike as a child. But every child can cycle in Iceland because if your parents cannot provide a bike, the Government will. And when I got pregnant in 2007 after I’d moved to Reykjavik, I decided to buy myself a bike as a present for giving birth to my first daughter [laughs].

cyclespeak
That seems fair.

María
And then I saw an advertisement for the biggest mountain bike race in Iceland—the Blue Lagoon Challenge. How could I have such a fancy bike and not participate? So I signed up and that’s how it all started.

cyclespeak
Did you enjoy the race?

María
The course was 60km and it never stopped raining. I was really tired and covered in mud when I finished but I’d never felt more alive.

cyclespeak
You mentioned the weather. Can you ride year round in Iceland or are there distinct seasons?

María
I ride all year but there are many days when you just have to turn around and head home because of the crazy weather. Last winter the snowfall was so heavy that it was difficult to ride anywhere but on the snow ploughed streets. So I went out during office hours when people were at work and made sure I was home before 4:00pm when the roads got busier. And they usually keep the cycle paths in Reykjavik pretty clear. If they don’t, the people quickly let them know about it [laughs].

cyclespeak
This year’s race season got underway with you riding for the Café du Cycliste Gravel Team at the Traka.

María
I’ve been working with Café du Cycliste on their photo shoots for almost three years. And then late last year they contacted me to ask if I wanted to compete in the Roc d’Azur gravel race out of Nice. That went really well – I came second – and they explained how they were building a gravel racing team and asked if I would be interested in joining. My first thought? Do they know how old I am?

cyclespeak
Maybe they were focusing, not on your 41 years, but on your 20 Icelandic National titles?

María
Possibly [laughs]. And this was a serious venture. They explained how I needed to be in good shape and train but also keep having fun on my bike. So I thought, well, the last condition is easy enough.


cyclespeak
So you joined the team.

María
I did. But at first I’ll admit to feeling a little shy about racing for Café du Cycliste. It was the first time they’d had their own team so it was a big honour to be asked.

cyclespeak
With the greatest respect, I’m finding it difficult to imagine you feeling shy [smiles]. You always appear so in the moment and relaxed.

María
When they asked me, I didn’t even tell my boyfriend right away [laughs].

cyclespeak
Café du Cycliste is a brand with quite a unique design aesthetic that I’m guessing appeals to your sense of fun?

María
I was already a huge fan and loved how they made fashionable cycle wear that also performed brilliantly on the bike. And I can remember when I first talked to them, how I explained that I was a little starstruck.

cyclespeak
With your personality, you make a great combination.

María
I guess so. And it’s perfect for Iceland. I look at the weather and pick an appropriate outfit.

cyclespeak
Once again riding for Café du Cycliste, June saw you line up for Unbound—considered by many to be the calendar’s biggest gravel race. But I believe the logistics of travelling to the US were also pretty testing?

María
That’s a crazy story. My journey began to unravel before I’d even left Iceland when I was standing in the wrong queue and nearly missed my flight. I had to run [laughs].

cyclespeak
You were flying to Newark?

María
And then the plan was to take a connecting flight to Texas and finally Kansas. But first I had to pass through US Immigration Control. After two hours of queuing, I finally got to the border officers and they asked if I had any foodstuffs. I answered, ‘Yeah, I’m fine, I’ve got a banana and some other things’. So they immediately took me to one side and started to search all my bags which meant I missed my flight. So I had to wait in Newark for hours and to end a perfect day the thunderstorm came. And everything just stopped [laughs].

cyclespeak
I remember the storm was on the news.

María
After spending a night sleeping on the terminal floor, I had to quickly decide which flight to take. Choosing a connection through Denver, I finally got in the air again only to discover I was flying over Kansas [laughs].

cyclespeak
Not what you call perfect preparation for a 200 mile gravel race.

María
It took me 39 hours in total from leaving home to arriving in Emporia and when I did finally get there I had no luggage. No clothes, no helmet, no shoes, no bike. It wasn’t until the Friday evening, 12 hours before the race start, that my bags turned up. But even though I was desperately tired, lining up at the start line was pretty awesome. 

cyclespeak
How did you find the race? Did you – and I’m quoting a post you made – cry halfway round in all that heat? And was there an ice cream waiting for you at the finish line?

María
I started well but after two hours I was just empty. So when I got to the first aid station I stopped. I wasn’t sad – I didn’t cry [laughs] – because everything had been such a mess and it just wasn’t my time.

cyclespeak
And the ice cream at the finish?

María
Of course! And because my team is so awesome we celebrated the race at a typical American bar with country music, dancing and everyone wearing cowboy hats.


cyclespeak
Is Unbound unfinished business?

María
I don’t know.

[Pauses]

Some people need to tick boxes. I don’t.

cyclespeak
After Unbound you raced on home soil in the Rift. As a 20x Icelandic National Champion, does that bring with it a sense of expectation on how you’ll perform?

María
Yes, I suppose it does.

cyclespeak
Is that a good or bad thing?

María
In the past I thought about it a lot but now? I’m riding for myself and there’s less pressure.

cyclespeak
Maybe that comes with age. There’s less of a need to meet the expectations of others?

María
I can see that. And I wonder if María is changing. I love racing and pushing hard but I also enjoy just riding my bike purely for pleasure. Taking in all the surroundings rather than staring at the wheel in front of me [smiles].

cyclespeak
Your boyfriend is also an Icelandic National Cycling Champion. Do family rides ever get competitive?

María
No [laughs]. He’s faster than me.

cyclespeak
You’re fast enough to get second place in a recent race in Italy which means you’ve qualified for the UCI World Gravel Championships in October. That’s kind of a big deal?

María
But I’m not nervous.

cyclespeak
No?

María
Just excited. Which means I have no expectations and will just hit it. Full gas and see what happens [laughs].

cyclespeak
Leading such a busy life, is timetabling a challenge you welcome?

María
Yes. And that’s my problem. I like being busy. But I recently made the decision to only work part-time as I need time with my girls and time to ride my bike.

cyclespeak
No matter whether you’re riding, racing or on a photo shoot, you always have the biggest smile.

María
It’s how I am. Often my boyfriend says, ‘María, you need to cool it down’ [laughs].

cyclespeak
And you also love to dance?

María
I do. I dance a lot. With my girls, by myself. If you allow yourself to move – and I’m not a good dancer – then you’re more open to all kinds of situations.

cyclespeak
Does this same sense of movement apply to your bike?

María
Before I go to bed and when I wake up, I often go outside and [Maria breathes in deeply and exhales]. For my sense of wellbeing I need to spend time outdoors and cycling gives me that. It just feels so good to be pedalling.

María

All photography for Café du Cycliste including images by Benedict Campbell, Christophe Flemin and Violette Franchi

Dominique Powers / Telling stories

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In the late summer of 2021, Dominique Powers loaded up her hatchback with camera gear and camping equipment, attached her gravel bike to the rear rack and set off on a three week, 3000 mile road trip. Stopping off at parking lots, trail heads and open prairie, she set up a portable backdrop before awaiting the arrival of each next subject. The photographic series that resulted – The Leaders of Gravel – was subsequently published on The Radavist to great acclaim and set the pulses of commissioning editors and marketing directors racing.

Over a transatlantic call we discuss this breakthrough moment and Dominique’s passion for storytelling. How she fell in love with cycling during the pandemic and, with a life lived on the road, the simple joys of coming home.

Dominique is taking our call at the kitchen table of the house in Los Angeles she shares with her partner Ken. On the drainer sits a ceramic coffee dripper, sunlight is filtering through the windows and if I’m not mistaken I can hear the squawk of parrots. “Oh that’s just LA,” she confirms with a smile. 

During the course of our conversation, Dominique mentions a time from her childhood when she left a library book out in the rain. The outcome of a meeting between her Mom and the librarian was deciding between paying for a replacement or volunteering in the library until she’d cancelled her debt. A voracious reader, Dominique chose the latter and it wasn’t until two years later that she found out her Mom had promptly paid the fine on her behalf.

An everyday story but one that illustrates how Dominique, even from an early age, understood the importance of owning the moment. An attitude she applied to her years as a digital technician working on high fashion and advertising campaigns.

“As with anything you do, your past experiences inform the way you approach new experiences. So all the time I was investing in being the best digital technician I could be, it taught me what working hard feels like.”

“But the longer I worked as a technician, the further away I felt from making that shift to being behind the camera. I was taking photographs the whole time but there were months on end when I wasn’t creating images with presence and purpose. And it took a sense of getting a little bit bored to prompt me to make the move.”

Continuing to work as a technician paid the bills and allowed Dominique the freedom to choose the stories she wanted to tell—in many cases the paycheck coming second as she set out to find her own voice and sense of authenticity. A process further guided by Dominique discovering cycling.

“I’m a very competitive person and grew up doing all these different endurance sports. And then during the pandemic, cycling quickly took over my life because what else do you do when you just want every day to pass? You spend hours and hours on the bike and it continues to provide motivation for the work I do now.”

These differing strands of interest and insight eventually coalesced in her Leaders of Gravel series—Dominique setting out from her home in Los Angeles on a circuitous route from one scouted location to the next. But before capturing a portrait with her medium format film camera, she took the time to converse with each subject to better understand their own experiences and stories.

“Trust takes time. You need to know, to a certain extent, the person holding the camera in order to feel comfortable lowering your guard. And I was very open about why I was doing the series and what I wanted from them. They didn’t necessarily need to smile or even be serious. It was all about who they were as a person so it was important to create a safe space where they could be a bit more vulnerable.”

With each subject’s eyes seemingly focusing through and beyond the camera to Dominique herself, she realised the profound impact the body of work had made on her own understanding of the creative process.

“On the road during the trip—even then, I knew this series would be with me forever. It was hard work – so many early mornings – but I felt this huge amount of gratitude that people agreed to do it and made the time. That they were willing to meet me at whatever deserted destination I had decided. And how this sense of magic found a place in the resulting portraits.”

“It came at a time when I really wanted – and needed – to reconnect with myself. An opportunity to explore my own sense of adventure and be present in the moment. I’d brought along my tent – fully expecting to be really roughing it – but the hospitality I experienced meant I only camped out the one time. People were so generous in opening up their homes to me that I just wanted to put that back out into the world. You can’t help but be changed by experiences like that.”

Hanging out at Sea Otter a few weeks after the story came out, every marketing director Dominique bumped into said they’d seen it—one notable outcome that followed involving another journey but one with a transatlantic flight.

“I’m very fortunate to be on a retainer with Giro and I’d mentioned this goal I had of shooting the Tour de France Femmes. They made a few phone calls and the project was given a green light. And then, knowing how establishing a relationship with my subjects is important to my work and that I’d never attended a World Tour race in Europe, we agreed that I’d spend a week with the Canyon-SRAM women’s team in the lead up to Paris-Roubaix.”

Landing in Paris, Dominique picked up her rental car and drove up to join the team on a course recon.

“It was such a blast and I’m so grateful – thank you, Mom – that I learnt to drive on a stick shift. And then once I was settled, every morning I’d show up an hour early to hang out with the soigneurs and mechanics so that on race day I really felt part of the team.”

Not having the same level of direction that she would usually enjoy shooting editorial content, Dominique quickly adapted to reacting to what was happening—building a level of trust with the riders such an integral part of the trip that Dominique was conscious of not getting in the way or asking too much.

“I went with the goal of meeting the athletes and team and to experience the culture of European World Tour racing. In effect, my pre-season training, so that when I return in the summer for the Le Tour Femme I can hit the ground running.”

Although a relative newcomer to cycling, Dominique is well placed to offer an opinion on how the sport is changing. And back home in the US, it’s gravel that is currently all the rage.

“Women want to exercise more and spend time outdoors. They want to create authentic experiences and cycling is the answer in so many ways. And because of the number of cars on the road, gravel is a perfect fit. That was how I discovered cycling and my own journey has taken me to the start line of Steamboat Gravel which was so much fun. Quite a challenge but I went into it wanting to test my metal. To see what I was made of.”

“I believe in ‘go big or go home’ so why not take a risk and roll the dice. I could have decided to line up some e-commerce photographic jobs and get well paid for my time. But I chose to do a photo series of the top women in gravel and then see what would happen.”

If Dominique does ‘go home’, right now that means LA and the house she shares with Ken. A place where she can feel emotionally open and where she disconnects from whatever outward pressures she might be feeling.

“I’m an early bird and generally wake up around 6:30am. I’ll have a cup of coffee with Ken and we’ll do the Wordle together before he starts his first morning meeting. Meanwhile I’ll have breakfast and write out a to-do list for the day. But even if I’m not working, having that early morning hour to greet the day and be reflective is really nice.”

As we wind up our conversation, I ask if she finds it easy to feel a sense of satisfaction in her work? Or whether, like some creatives, she’s always looking to the next project?

“You take the Leaders of Gravel series—that happened over a three week period and once I had all the images I needed and I’d written up the story, it was done. I don’t plan to ever go back and add to it. But I do feel this sense of forward momentum and there’s always something more that I want.”

And more stories to tell, I ask.

Dominique pauses for a second and smiles broadly before answering.

“That’s really what it’s all about.”

Feature image and video by Alex Colorito

All other imagery with kind permission of Dominique Powers / dominiquepowers.com

The Leaders of Gravel

Canyon-SRAM

Cristina Sanser / Badlands

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With 85% of the route off-road, Badlands is an unsupported, ultracycling gravel challenge that rewards self-sufficiency. So what happens if things take an unexpected turn under the searing sun of Andalusia?

Cristina Sanser had taken a whole year to prepare before rolling up to the September startline. But finding herself riding through a beautiful but unforgiving landscape, she needed to find the inner strength to stop and say enough.

Why Badlands? I suppose I should start by explaining that I’ve only been riding a bike for four years—and only consistently for a year and a half. With the whole Covid situation, I had to work from home and everything was so boring with no travelling allowed. My friends and I saw the Badlands documentary from last year and when the bars once again opened, we went for a drink and decided why not?

The year I spent training for it, in the back of mind I was doubting whether I would ever be ready. I’m pretty fit but everyone taking part in the challenge is super strong and I’m still working my way up the ladder in terms of technical ability. So in the end, I decided to just treat it as a holiday. I would sign up and whether I finished the race or not, this would be an excuse to visit another part of Spain and have some fun.

I was riding – unofficially – as a team. We entered two as a pair and one more as an individual but the plan was to ride together. Freya had recently moved to Girona from the UK and is super strong with a racing background—very much a mentor to me and really helpful advising on things like bike gearing and clothing. My other friend, Laura, is a sports scientist and cycling coach and my pre-race level of fitness was all due to her help and encouragement.


I was fully aware that we were facing certain metrics—the distance, the terrain, the allowed time window of six days. But we’d prepared well with a first training block that built up an endurance base, a second block with a higher intensity and then a third which combined elements of both. Quite a commitment when working office hours in a demanding role.

In terms of a bike and equipment, budget played a part in the decisions we made. Everything is so expensive but fortunately I managed to upgrade to a BMC URS gravel bike—the geometry works better for me and it gives me more confidence if the surface is poor. And all of these different strands of preparation came together on a test ride in the Pyrenees—lots of climbing, super technical sections and sleeping outside. Mentally, we’d been planning this for so long that it felt settled in my brain. So I suppose, in a sense, I was prepared to suffer. To suffer a lot.

Perhaps inevitably, the closer we got to the start date the more our nerves began to build. I’d never raced before – ever – so the thoughts going through my head involved what would happen if I crashed in the first ten kilometres. Or maybe I wouldn’t be able to unclip and everyone would see me and laugh. And in hindsight it was a mistake to book a hotel outside of Granada’s city centre. We walked a lot before Badlands got underway but then we walked a lot during the race too.

Attending a rider briefing a couple of days before the start, we got to talk to people who had already raced Trans-Pyrenees and the previous year’s Badlands. Very simply, this proved to be super motivating and I left the briefing feeling that, yes, I could do this.

Race day arrived with Laura waking to a painful wisdom tooth. Typically, she cast aside any thoughts of not riding in the time it took to take some paracetamol and we rolled up at a park area to set off as a bunch. Riding amongst all the other competitors during the first 20 km, I was close to tears. What was I doing with all these super strong and experienced riders? But we’d spent 12 months preparing for this moment and that thought carried me through those initial nerves.


Climbing upwards and upwards, the gravel trails gradually became more technical and on some sections we were jumping on and off the bike. But even though the heat was intense and the riding hard, the first day was fun. I even have a picture of me smiling.

With the sun setting in the sky, we rolled into the village of Gorafe. My friends and l felt tired but seeing all the other competitors who’d also chosen this location to snatch a few hours rest gave us an emotional lift. We grabbed some food and then laid out our mats and sleeping bags on the roadside to sleep. Three hours later we woke up – not to say that I actually slept with all the night time noises – and got underway again to hit the desert before sunrise. 

This proved to be truly an amazing experience. Very technical – especially descending with bike lights – but it felt like an epic adventure. Approaching another small village, we stopped briefly for a couple of quick coffees before continuing. But even though we’d refilled all our bidons and hydration packs, we eventually began to run short of water and needed to ration how much we drank despite the intense heat. 

Freya had pushed on ahead – she’s such a strong rider – as the landscape gradually changed from gravel to sand. Really technical to ride but we’d managed to maintain a good race position and our spirits were up. And then, without warning, I crashed. Maybe because I was dehydrated – my Wahoo was reading 49°C – but my front wheel hit a soft patch of sand and I lost control. A silly mistake rather than a tragic accident but I hit my head when the bike went over. Taking a moment to gather my senses, all the good feelings that had buoyed our progress so far seemed to evaporate into the cloudless sky. Climbing back on my bike, for the next couple of hours I was dizzy and disorientated—cresting every rise with the expectation of a village and water but finding only barren nothingness.


Catching up with Laura at the end of a long and draining climb, I discovered her crying. And Laura never cries. A true lover of nature and always happiest in the mountains, seeing her upset made me realise that our race was starting to fall apart. Then Laura’s mum called to ask if Freya was still with us—she’d been dot watching and could see she was off route. I immediately called Freya and thankfully she answered. She’d taken a wrong turn and then had to backtrack – uphill – to regain the route. We’d already booked a hotel earlier that morning so we agreed to meet there and decide what to do. What she didn’t tell us over the call was that she’d been continually vomiting due to dehydration.

We now had a strong headwind and 25 km of super technical riding between us and the hotel. More walking than riding, it felt an impossible task and by then we’d run out of water. But somehow we managed to keep moving until we finally reached the hotel to be greeted by Freya. She’d cooked food for us – such an angel – and when we began to feel more comfortable we talked about our options.

The next day was 140 km with no stops for food or water. Food had never really been an issue but the availability of water in this scorching heat was a real concern. And what Freya and I hadn’t realised – because she didn’t want to burden us – was that Laura now had an infection in her tooth and had exhausted her supply of paracetamol. Weighing up these different factors, we all felt the same and decided to stop.

Will I return to race Badlands again? Looking back from the comfort of home, there’s a part of me that still questions whether we should have continued. I feel tears begin to well-up when I think of all that preparation and how we’d pictured ourselves finishing. But we made the decision together and we cried together.

Sometimes things are just out of your control and it would have been foolhardy to continue with Laura suffering and in pain. And I do recognise that mentally I’m very strong. Who knew – even if we didn’t finish – that I would find myself rolling up to the start line of Badlands? That I’d be happy to sleep in the street? And being able to say enough and accepting that it was the right decision—that proved far harder and took more strength than continuing to ride.


Cristina / Laura / Freya / Over&Out

Photography by Juanan Barros and Carlos Mazón

Badlands

Ian Boswell / Unbound and beyond

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My result at Unbound surprised me for so many reasons. One of the first big races that I’d done in several years and a return to racing with a completely different mindset. The distance was an unknown quantity but I approached the event with this sense of pure enjoyment. I’d spent so much of my professional career never getting that solo win and then – just when I’d stopped caring about that – I crossed the line in first place. Kind of ironic but in a very good sense.

Growing up in Bend, Oregon, with dreams of one day riding the Tour de France, Ian Boswell rode La Grande Boucle with Team Katusha–Alpecin before suffering a heavy crash in the 2019 Tirreno-Adriatico that forced an untimely end to his World Tour career. Announcing his retirement from road racing at the age of 28, a role in athlete liaison with Wahoo complemented his ‘Breakfast with Boz’ podcast before racing once again came calling in the shape of the North American gravel scene. Here, Ian talks about his transition from the professional peloton, putting down roots in Vermont with his wife Gretchen, his win at Unbound and how some life-defining events can even surpass riding 200 miles of dirt roads in Kansas.

cyclespeak
You raced at the pinnacle of the sport with four years at Team Sky and then latterly riding for Team Katusha–Alpecin. For the majority of that time you were based in Nice on the French Riviera. Does living so far from home bring with it certain challenges?

Ian
Regardless of how long you live in France or Spain, you’re only there because of the cycling so it can feel like you’re always working. Someone like Alejandro Valverde, the majority of his races are a two hour or less flight from his house. He’s at a race on a Sunday and he’s back home with his wife and kids the next day—maybe even the same evening.

cyclespeak
With all the support his family and friends offer?

Ian
I often used to think just how different an experience it is for riders having loved ones on a different continent. And it does force you to live in a cocoon because you’re there for a very specific reason and there’s a sense you should put all your focus into that one thing. Which is interesting now that I’ve returned to racing but on the gravel scene. I’m still training, resting and eating well – just like in my World Tour days – but I’m also doing all these other things that bring me joy and enhance my riding. 

cyclespeak
It always intrigues me when road racers describe how deep they have to go in a stage. Just how hard does it get when the peloton is going full gas?

Ian
There’s this very unique sense of risk / reward that’s tied to suffering in professional cycling. Whether that’s winning a race, getting a new contract or just the fame and glory—very different from most peoples’ perspectives on how to achieve success. Usually, our natural instinct is to stop if something hurts. But with cycling you have this sense that if you hurt yourself, then you’ll achieve something. And sometimes you’ll see examples of this when the outcome is a win but there are other times when it can result in a terrible crash and a rider finishing a race bloodied and battered. Almost an accepted aspect of the sport and the nature of how you move up the ladder and achieve success. Everyone hurts whether it’s Peter Sagan, Julian Alaphilippe or your everyday weekend warrior. What sets the riders apart is how much pain they’re willing to handle.

cyclespeak
You were 28 when you announced your retirement. Was there a feeling of shifting your own sense of identity?

Ian
The circumstances of how I came to announce my retirement were dictated by the crash I had and then spending a season away from racing. If things had been different, then I imagine I would still be racing professionally on the road today. I did have the opportunity to carry on…

cyclespeak
I believe Israel Start-up Nation were interested in you riding on their team and you had a contract offer from Rally.

Ian
I looked at my career to date and still felt it would be great to return to racing and maybe try and win a stage at the Tour. But the path of continually trying to succeed and impress never really ends. And that’s regardless of who you are. So I came to the realisation that, hey, I’ve pretty much done everything I wanted to do and it was time to be happy with that. Very much a mind shift that I was still young enough to pursue other things in my life that would bring me happiness.

cyclespeak
Would you have felt differently if you hadn’t ridden the Tour in 2018?

Ian
Probably so [smiles]. For whatever reason, it’s still the standout moment of my road racing career. I guess because I grew up in this very prominent era in American cycling with Lance Armstrong. So getting to ride the Tour, it was the icing on the cake even though I knew and accepted I would never get to wear the yellow jersey into Paris [laughs].

cyclespeak
But you still got to ride down the Champs-Élysées after three weeks racing through France.

Ian
That was a pretty special moment. And, in a sense, I had a perfect Tour—no crashes, no flat tyres and without getting sick. Such a good race that it would be almost impossible to go back and have a better experience. Especially as there’s a tendency in professional cycling to finish one race – and that might be on a high – before immediately starting to think about what’s next and how you can go one step better. So that period in 2019 when I was recovering from my crash gave me the opportunity to reflect on a lot of things.

cyclespeak
Your retirement was kind of forced on you through injury but is the question of ‘what next’ generally discussed between teammates?

Ian
It’s seldom mentioned. Riders will talk about other things that they’re interested in but there’s so much focus on performance and results that the minute you start to have other thoughts or ideas, there might be a perception that you’re spending energy elsewhere. And for me, I was 28 when I announced my retirement and my friends Larry Warbasse and Joe Dombrowski – fellow Americans that were also living in Nice at the time – we didn’t talk about it because, in our minds, we were going to race our bikes until we were 35 or beyond.

cyclespeak
What’s the one thing you miss most from your years in the World Tour?

Ian
What I miss is also what I enjoy so much now. The preparation for events was so well-organised that you almost didn’t have to think about it. You just had to focus on yourself because the mechanics sorted your bike, your laundry was done, the team chef prepared all your food. But interestingly, what I really enjoy now is being solely responsible and looking after my own equipment and mixing up my own bottles.


cyclespeak
When did the idea of moving to gravel racing first surface? Was this a way of riding you were familiar with?

Ian
In a sense, it was totally random. I’d seen this explosion in gravel racing from over in Europe. And after moving back to the States and making Vermont our home, probably over 70% of the roads are dirt so I was riding them anyways without necessarily thinking I was riding gravel [smiles]. And then I took a full-time position with Wahoo in January 2020 and as a brand they were going to many of these events as either a sponsor or they had an expo space. They told me it would be great to have me along because I was a recognisable face and oftentimes my colleagues would ride the event—they’re there, so why not get to ride.

cyclespeak
So you decided to join in the fun?

Ian
And then 2020 happened and I didn’t get to go to any events and that changed my perspective even more. Looking back, my mindset was still a little leftover from road racing and I was training through the winter – doing intervals – to stay fit. But, as it turned out, to stay fit for what?

cyclespeak
So, once again, another period of reflection.

Ian
That year without racing – road or gravel – allowed me to move another step away from my past life. And because we weren’t travelling to events with Wahoo, I took on more responsibility in my day-to-day job with less opportunity and time for riding. I’m still very much learning how to balance everything and that might mean sneaking out to go for a quick hour’s ride and rather than worrying that I’m not maintaining my training block, just being happy with that.

cyclespeak
A very different mindset from your professional years?

Ian
When I was racing and living in Europe, a few hours of riding was all I had to do in a whole day. Maybe I’d go to the grocery store or spend some time on the beach—but now I’m getting my kit on as I’m finishing up a call so I can get out of the door before the next one.

cyclespeak
Watching the Wahoo Frontiers content – which I really enjoy – it references the sense of friendship that exists between rival racers.

Ian
In the gravel world, I’m very close to certain individuals like Pete Stetina. Part of my job in athlete liaison with Wahoo is to manage these relationships—negotiating their contracts or sorting out the gear they need. Which is kind of funny because I also race against them. And there’s still this sense of communal support like the day before the Belgium Waffle Ride when I had a spare tyre and offered it to Colin Strickland—giving him a resource that could potentially help him beat me in the race. If you look at that front group on this year’s Unbound – Pete, Colin, Ted [King] and Laurens [ten Dam] – we were racing so that the strongest rider would cross the finish line in first place on merit alone. Maybe that isn’t always the case in road racing and I think that’s where a lot of people in gravel are scared and a little bit sceptical about the future. Whether it will become more cagey or if team tactics will help decide the outcome. But right now, it still feels very pure. Everyone is happy that the strongest rider gets to win on any given day. At the 2021 Belgium Waffle Ride that was Pete and I was super happy for him.


cyclespeak
Looking back at this year’s Unbound Gravel, the field was packed with talent. And I’ve enjoyed listening to you quiz past winners on your podcast. Did you line up at the start with a win in mind?

Ian
No, not at all. I’d never done this race before so there were so many subtle aspects to the event that I wasn’t aware of like tyre pressures and equipment choices. But even though I wasn’t holding out any hopes for a win, I did feel that if I got a clean run, then I could at least do well. And there’s so many things that can go wrong. Flat tyres, bonking, mechanicals—little things like the tyre plugs that people use if they’re riding tubeless.

cyclespeak
I guess there’s always an element of luck if you’re racing 200 miles on dirt roads.

Ian
My main focus – regardless of my placing – was to ride hard and have fun. As things turned out, I didn’t have any issues with the bike, I didn’t crash and I managed to make all the selections that put me in with a chance to sprint for the win.

cyclespeak
I watched Colin’s video where he talked through his Unbound bike setup. So dialled in and I wondered whether you also naturally embrace this level of detail?

Ian
The technical stuff, no. I probably was carrying too much stuff and in the wrong places. There was one point where the five of us were off the front and Colin punctured. He put a plug in the tyre as we slowed up for a couple of minutes and then caught up with us. It would’ve taken me 10 minutes to figure that out [smiles]. Whereas he’s so meticulous on having his equipment to hand, if it was me with a flat then my CO₂ was underneath my hydration pack and I would’ve needed to unzip three pockets to get to it. The gas wasn’t even screwed into the valve because I didn’t want to waste it. In hindsight, really stupid because it’s less than a dollar to buy a new one.

cyclespeak
I guess we’re all learning and this was your first time riding Unbound.

Ian
With the nutritional side I think I’m more tuned in. Having spent those years at Team Sky – working with their sport scientists – I’ve got a fairly good grasp of how to fuel a ride and I was pretty much dialled in when it came to feeding and hydration. But mechanically is where I’m still at a huge disadvantage.

cyclespeak
You mentioned having a clean run. Did you set out to ride your race in a particular way?

Ian
I rode to my ability—never overextending myself trying to close a gap and riding more cautiously through the technical sections compared to others in the front group. And you’ve got to bear in mind that it’s a long race so there’s plenty of opportunity to make up time.

cyclespeak
Were you riding to power?

Ian
I was on a Wahoo Roam for Unbound and I did have power visible but, to be honest, I never really looked at it. I think I’ve spent enough time riding with a power meter and know my body well enough to manage my output. More recently I’ve been riding off speed and it’s funny that most of the races I’ve done this year have all averaged between 20 and 21 mph. So this is far more an indication of effort than my power reading and I can use this in my training—going out on a 100 mile loop with the goal of averaging 20 mph. Power is still useful but if you’re in the Little Egypt section of Unbound and Pete’s attacking, are you going to sit back because he’s riding above your planned pace? It’s a do or die moment and power doesn’t really matter. You either make it or you don’t.

cyclespeak
Crossing the line in a sprint against Laurens ten Dam, what emotions entered your mind?

Ian
What’s interesting is that, apart from a team time-trial at the Vuelta, I didn’t win any races in my professional road career. So I threw my hands up in the air because I was super happy to win a sprint. To be honest, I didn’t fully realise the size of the event and just how much attention that it had until later. At the Tour you have fans lining the roadside, cars and motorcycles in front and behind, helicopters above, race radio in your ear—you’re always aware of what’s going on and the pressures and expectations of the race. At Unbound, for the vast majority of the route we didn’t see anyone. No fans, no cars, no noise—just us. In my mind I was out on a group ride with Ted, Pete, Colin and Laurens—a bunch of incredibly strong riders that I have so much respect for.


cyclespeak
I was talking to Gus Morton a while back and he mentioned that when his brother Lachlan raced the 2019 Dirty Kanza [as Unbound was previously known], his team Education First got more views on social media for this one-day race than the whole of the Giro d’Italia.

Ian
I finished Unbound and I had over 2000 messages on Instagram. And I was like, what the heck is going on? Richie Porte was riding the Critérium du Dauphiné at the same time – which he  went on to win – and he messaged. And that just didn’t make sense because, in my mind, the Dauphiné is one of the biggest races in the world and I’m riding dirt roads in Kansas.

cyclespeak
I say this semi-seriously but maybe all your World Tour friends are a little jealous? Because everyone who rides Unbound seems to have so much fun? They’re competing, giving it everything and still having a good time.

Ian
I do sometimes wonder whether professional teams look at Unbound and consider all the attention it gets. And I was speaking to my good friend Larry Warbasse who rides for AG2R Citroën – one of the best teams in the world – and he’s going to altitude camp, riding intervals and watching what he eats—all this commitment and sacrifice but nowhere near the same level of recognition. In my opinion, the World Tour is still the pinnacle of cycle racing but maybe we’ll see more road riders lining up at the start of these gravel races.

cyclespeak
You’ve touched on the future of gravel racing in your podcast. With pro teams looking to get involved – I’m thinking EF and their alternative calendar – is this a good thing or are there concerns?

Ian
I’m not sure I’m the right person to answer that as it’s my first year but the gravel scene is very unique as the people participating are determining what gravel racing is—the unwritten rules in much the same way the etiquette of the Tour was set out in the first half of the 20th century. Time will tell whether that changes if gravel racing attracts more money, prestige or media attention. At present it’s still very grassroots in terms of culture.

cyclespeak
Alongside your gravel racing – and I need to mention that you won a stage at the Migration Gravel Race two weeks after Unbound – you work for Wahoo in athlete liaison and also have your podcast—of which I’m a huge fan. Professionally speaking, what’s the best thing about being Ian Boswell at the moment?

Ian
Goodness. Where do I start? I’ve been really busy since Unbound and that’s after 12 months of finding a nice balance in my life. I joined the volunteer fire department in town, my wife Gretchen and I got a dog and keep chickens. And then all of a sudden everything changed.

cyclespeak
I imagine life must feel like it’s ramped up a gear?

Ian
I suppose I’m really trying to figure out how to make all these different aspects meet in the middle. You take the Amani project that Wahoo supports and how that led to me going to Africa for the Migration Race. Hopefully, we get to have the East African athletes travelling over to the US so they can race some events.

cyclespeak
And it feels good to be involved in projects like these?

Ian
Cycling has brought so much positivity into my life and I feel that maybe I’m now in a position to give back as much as possible. So I just want to put my heart and soul into things that I’m passionate about and things that I love and that bring me joy and inspiration.

cyclespeak
Talking of inspiration, you have a very engaging style of delivery with your podcast.

Ian
Initially, back in 2020, it was meant to be 12 episodes over the course of the year. But then the pandemic happened and we decided to make it a weekly thing. I had the time because I was at home and not racing and the more episodes I did, the more relaxed I began to feel with the medium. When I first started – recording an intro – sometimes I would have 50 versions of the same 20 second segment [laughs].

cyclespeak
I love that.

Ian
But as you go on, you begin to realise that a lot of these things – mistakes you might call them – aren’t even picked up in conversation. We kind of edit them out and that’s how I now approach the podcast.

cyclespeak
And often it can be quite endearing because it sounds like you’re actually having a conversation and everything isn’t scripted.

Ian
Other than piecing it together, I’ve probably made less than ten cuts out of the entire series. Very little gets left out.

cyclespeak
Considering the name of your podcast, I feel it would be remiss of me not to ask if you have a favourite breakfast?

Ian
I have been known to enjoy an extravagant breakfast but that can change day to day and seasonally. Gretchen and I made this French toast sandwich which I particularly enjoyed. And sometimes it’s good to start the day with a simple bowl of oatmeal.

cyclespeak
Your barn occasionally features on your social media feed. It must be useful to have so much storage?

Ian
Gretchen and I got married there so we spent a lot of time prior to our wedding cleaning it out and making it look nice. We do harbour a desire to host events in the future but at the moment our chickens live there in the winter and we have a small tractor, tools and whatnot. And living in Vermont, there’s always free stuff on the roadside and it can be hard to say no when you have a big barn to put it in.

cyclespeak
And plenty of room for bikes. What’s the first one you reach for?

Ian
I do have an e-bike that I’ve been riding a lot recently—a Specialized Creo which is very similar to the Diverge. It’s pretty hilly where we live and Gretchen and I will often jump on our e-bikes after work and go on a 15 or 20 mile spin which always brings a smile to my face. With the e-bike, I can just wear my basketball shorts and some tennis shoes and not think about getting all kitted out.

cyclespeak
I do wonder whether that choice will surprise some folk?

Ian
I really think that e-bikes have a lot to offer to a lot of people. My Mum visited a couple of weeks ago and we got to ride together and she was dropping me on the climbs [laughs].

cyclespeak
These post-work rides wouldn’t happen to involve ice cream?

Ian
I do love ice cream – probably too much – and whenever I go with Gretchen, I try to convince her to get a bigger size so I can eat the rest. It can be a little awkward going to the counter twice within 20 minutes to ask for another two ice creams, knowing that I’m going to eat them both [laughs].


cyclespeak
How else do you unwind if you’re not visiting your local ice cream store?

Ian
Since it’s summertime, my most relaxing thing is jumping on my tractor and mowing our fields. It’s very therapeutic—a distinct start and end and aesthetically it just looks so good when you’ve finished. Sitting on the tractor is so peaceful and offers a lot of mental release.

cyclespeak
I think sometimes the simplest things can be the most rewarding so I guess we all need a tractor. And I kind of wanted to finish up our conversation on a high and mention the very end of your Unbound Gravel film for Wahoo when you shared the super exciting news that Gretchen is expecting a baby? As I watched you fighting back the tears, it made me think of the frontiers tag but one that will be totally life-changing.

Ian
The people behind the camera on the Wahoo shoot are my close friends and they hadn’t a clue what I was about to say. And when they asked me about my frontiers – about what was next – it just came out. Part of me was thinking that I’d better run this past Gretchen [smiles].

cyclespeak
Well, I’m glad it was left in.

Ian
Even during the race – and it’s a long race – I was thinking about how having a baby will change our lives—that this might be the last time for a while I race Unbound with the same level of focus and preparation. But if that’s what it takes to try and be the best father I can be – to be present and available – then it will far exceed any desires I might have to be a pro racer and defend my title at Unbound.

Images from training rides, Unbound and the Migration Gravel Race by Vermont Social and Wahoo Fitness

All other images with kind permission of Ian Boswell

Breakfast with Boz

Wahoo Frontiers