The Radavist

Hurricane is not HURRUHCANE it’s HURRAH-KIN. Spend any amount of time in Utah and you’ll quickly learn that. After our exceptional romp in St. Geezy, we loaded up our Yotas with our bikes and drove an hour to Hurricane, home to arguably the best trails in Southwestern Utah. We had a few days to explore with not a lot on the agenda, other than Gooseberry Mesa and the IMBA Epic Rim Trail. IMBA Epics are just as they sound, epic rides categorized by IMBA. It’s not often you come across one of these treks, so when you do, you’d better do your best to ride it.

A few months back, the boys from Angry Catfish in Minneapolis invited Kyle from Golden Saddle Cyclery in Los Angeles to meet them in Utah for five days of riding mountain bikes in St. George – aka St. Geezy – and Hurricane – aka Herahkun. The only problem is, Kyle doesn’t have a car and he didn’t quite feel like pedaling all the way to Utah from Los Angeles on his singlespeed mountain bike. That’s where I came into the picture. I’ve got a car, with a bike rack and enough room to carry all our shit for a week. Now Kyle had a ride, I got to ride in Utah and everyone would get some sweet-ish photos out of the whole shindig.

Ride the Snake… River
Photos byTy Hathaway and Julia DeConcini, words by Ty Hathaway.

As we are heading towards Wyoming, Julia turns to me and says “this book says you can float the Snake River and it looks pretty cool.” Sounds good to me, let’s do that. This trip is all about this, this right here, we see something we are interested in and we do it. This is a luxury we are both very thankful for and are lucky to have in this moment.

We pulled into Jackson, worked our way through the hellish traffic, dodging National Park tourists, making the reality of where we were very apparent. A damn National Park town. Now don’t get me wrong, Jackson and Teton are very beautiful but shit, the crowds, and traffic are horrific and gave me flash backs of LA. This is not why we are here, this is enough to make me want to just keep driving, but alas I fought the urge, and well let’s face it, I wouldn’t make it too far in this traffic.

The HIA Velo Co-Founder’s Personal Founder Road
Photos by Bryan Clifton, words by John Watson

Doug Zell is best known for his success with the coffee brand Intelligentsia Coffee, but as a lifelong cyclist, Doug has recently invested in a company that has made recent headlines with their new, US-made, production, carbon road bikes. HIA Velo was co-founded by Tony Karklins and Doug Zell. The two wanted to bring full-on production of carbon fiber back to the US, resulting in a $3,000 USD frameset, painted in-house with a variety of color choices. These bikes use the highest quality materials and are manufactured by using the same technology as you’d find in the pro peloton bikes. All from their facilities in Arkansas.

Photographer Bryan Clifton met up with Doug Zell on a recent trip to HIA Velo and shot his Lucky Charm Founder road bikes. It’s built with SRAM eTap with Carbon Quarq Power ReadyCranks, Ksyrium Pro Carbon SL C wheels, EE Cycleworks brakes, Cane Creek Forty headset, and Fizik parts. These bikes have all the flash, without the excessive branding. In my personal opinion, there’s no need for heavily-branded bikes let the frameset and its detailing do the talking…

Follow HIA Velo‘s story at their website and stay tuned to the Radavist for future projects involving the brand.

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Follow HIA Velo on Instagram.

Things don’t always go as planned. I awoke after our Central Highlands ride with what I can only describe as the worst allergies I’ve ever experienced. Or as the locals say, “pissa hay feva’ mate!” Turns out, a rather wet winter, followed by a series of storms brought on a serious amount of allergen-related illness this summer in Australia, so I didn’t feel so bad, at least not socially anyway. Still, I had a bloody job to do. We had an agenda and I was sticking to it. For the most part anyway. After all, I’ve been wanting to travel to Tassie for years to ride bikes and I was finally here…

Free Cycles is a Long Ride from Here
Photos by Kyle Kelley and words by Locke Hassett

“It’s a long ride from here. 80 miles, and the first 20 are uphill. The train leaves at 5pm, and we have to be there at 4, because we have bicycles. It should be a good day.”

That was when I knew that my new job was not your ordinary bike shop gig, and never would be. Bob Giordano, the founder of Free Cycles, Missoula’s community bike shop, warmed his hands with his breath as the sun broke over Logan Pass and illuminated Heaven’s Peak, which was in our view as we stopped for morning coffee on Going to the Sun Road. This was a casual employee bonding ride: Missoula to Glacier, over the pass, catch a train to Whitefish and hitchhike back to open the shop on Tuesday. Pathologically optimistic, barely planned, and wonderful. Our plan was as loose as what got us there and without hesitation, we kept on riding. We were unsure of what would happen, but we knew it would be good, and that is the magic of Free Cycles.

Faster than a Bullitt at Larry vs Harry in Copenhagen
Photos and words by Kevin Sparrow

Welcome to Copenhagen, the mecca of cargo bikes! Well, at least for Bullitt bike owners.

During the 2013 Cycle Messenger World Championships in Lausanne, I had the privilege of meeting the co-founder of Larry vs Harry, Hans Bullitt Fogh. After returning stateside, I joined the LvsH family by purchasing a Bullitt of my own, and I’ve been wanting to visit their operations ever since. A few weeks ago, I was in Copenhagen and finally got that chance.

The company started 9 years ago with the V1 of the Bullitt. Throughout the years, design changes have been made and an accessory line realized in response to customer demands.
The Larry vs Harry storefront, on Frederiksborggade, showcases their entire cargo fleet in all colors and versions. The shop also sells custom built Bullitts and services local ones.

Romantic Bicycle Touring: A Primer
Words and photos by Ultra Romance

You can witness all the beauty there is to see in this fine world: Yanni live at the Acropolis, the Venice beach boardwalk, or simply the Sistine Chapel, for example.

While encountering these wonders alone is undoubtedly inspiring and majestic, these enchanting destinations and undulating waves of road in between are enhanced roughly 70-80% of the time when the experience is shared. Add in the romantic element, and that analytic bumps up to roughly 86%, yet fluctuates down to 20% at times. That’s still pretty good!

With the popularity of bicycle touring on the rise in recent years, and justifiably so, the amount of “I’d rather be doing that” inspirational social media content has increased exponentially. It doesn’t take a masters degree in internet browsing to stumble across countless photos of glossy eyed 86% happy couples posing for duck face selfies with their laden touring rigs amidst a backdrop of the romantic unknown.

I must admit, I have gazed at these photos before, incurring wide eyed dreams of one day waking up in the dirt beside a real, tangible lover. Instead I continued to keep company with the likes of my ol’ faithful laminated 8×10 of Matthew McConaughey, propped up next to my inflatable pillow at night. Even still, I continued to tell myself “Bené, you’re tall, strikingly handsome, muscular, your hair is #1, and you have two amazing Instagram accounts… don’t get greedy, you can’t have it all!” And so I was settled into my ways. Just me and my McCaughey laminate, rubbing woolen elbows with the world and it’s mysteries.

Usually the sequel doesn’t stack up to the original, yet the consensus I gathered at the Rock Lobster Cup II was that this year’s event was way harder and way more fun. Or maybe just way harder. Having only raced the sequel, I can’t say for sure, but having not raced ‘cross for two years, It was all I could have asked for and more.

Todd Ingermansen has been working in the cycling industry for a long time. Too long if you ask him. Since the age of 13 he’s had a presence in bike shops. What began as sweeping the shop floors eventually culminated into being a mechanic, riding bikes and living bikes. Yet, Todd wanted something more. Running parallel to his bike shop jobs was his art school education, where he realized his 2D and 3-dimension eye for details. In his early 20’s he chased his love of singlespeed MTB riding and racing to Oakland, California where cycling completely enveloped his life.

Back then, there weren’t any US manufacturers of singlespeed MTB frames. Or at least none that piqued Todd’s interest, so he began building his own. A few friends helped him out, some frames worked, some didn’t, yet every frame taught Todd something. Eventually he moved back down the California coast, to San Luis Obispo and began fillet brazing. He had built a dozen or so frames before landing a job with Rick Hunter of Hunter Cycles. Under Rick’s torch, Todd began to realize the importance of actually making a bicycle frame, something that stands true even today.

For the past 14 years, Todd’s been building a brand, and a modus operandi to how he believes bicycles should be made. Black Cat Bicycles are unique, arguably unlike anything else I’ve witnessed in my years of documenting framebuilders. Much like his mentor, Rick Hunter, Todd doesn’t just weld a mail order kit of parts together and paint it. He engineers his own dropouts, builds stems, machines metal into whatever he pleases, carves his own lugs and bends his tubing in very unique shapes. For instance, how do you make chainstays that are bent, yet have an ever-so-slight arc to them?

Just Say Yes to Bikepacking
Words by Jen Abercrombie, photos by Brian Vernor (unless otherwise noted)

“Why do I keep saying yes?” That’s the thought I had, sitting in the San Jose airport heading to Las Vegas to meet up with the folks at Blackburn to embark on a two-day “InterbikePacking” trip in the desert, organized to coincide with Interbike, the giant annual American bike trade show that attracts, in decreasing numbers it seems, exhibitors, retailers and cycling enthusiasts from all over the world. I hadn’t looked at a map and knew only the vaguest details about the trip, one of the most concerning being that there might be a kayak involved. I wouldn’t say I’m exactly an expert on the bike, but compared to my proficiency in the water I’m Greg LeMond. I also heard there would be sand…a LOT of sand. None of this was making me excited, but when asked if I wanted to go, I just said “yes”.

For the past few years, a tale has been passed around within our circle of friends about cycling up White Mountain Peak. The story has changed a bit over the years, or perhaps the details have simply been refined, but what I knew was this: three of my friends rode, well, hiked their bikes up White Mountain Peak. A lightening storm hit, they had to vacate the vicinity and retreat to a car, which was waiting for them close to the top. All I ever saw were a few photos from the trip, but it was enough to whet my interest in White.

Fast forward three years or so and I’m now living in California, eager to explore this amazing state in the cooler months. I’ve mentioned to friends various times that I’m willing to take off during the week and do some of these rides that are a few hours drive from LA. Knowing good and well the climate window for the Inyo National Forest is slim, Eric Brunt invited me to accompany him on a return trip to White. Eric was one of the three who summited years ago, the other two you’re probably more familiar with: Ryan Wilson.

That brings me to the background on this ride. White Mountain Peak sits at 14,252′. Still not as high as Whitney or Mount Williamson, California’s other juggernauts, yet it is the only one that you can ride, er… push your bike up to the summit. Hence the motivation with our friends, who are all a little loosely-screwed together if you know what I mean.

Just because we’re all a little crazy, doesn’t mean you’ve gotta make yourself the same in planning this ride, so I’m trying something a little different with this Reportage…

Words and photos by Morgan Taylor.

Last year when we visited Scott at Porcelain Rocket, we were doing the usual: shooting the shit about the industry, and Instagram, and all of the opinionated yammering that goes along with that. The topic of Sklar’s top tubes came up. Yes, those top tubes that curve upward, reducing standover while making for an instantly recognizable silhouette. I was suspicious.

Words and photos by Morgan Taylor.

Montana, oh Montana. In Montana we battled the desire for stillness with the impetus to keep moving. We sat and watched animals, we spent time in new places that excited us very much, we batted away mosquitoes and fled from them. We pedaled day by day, sometimes through remote terrain, not seeing anyone else for hours or possibly days at a time. We found our way.