The Radavist

We were chilling in a hostel in Kathmandu, enjoying warm showers and the internet when I realized this Coronavirus situation was getting serious. In a few days, Ryan Wilson and I had packed up, booked tickets to wherever we considered home at the time (aka with the parents, as we were both on an open-ended bike trip), said goodbye, and flew out. It turned out to be a wise decision, as in the next weeks the world would go into hibernation.

And so I found myself swapping the tent for my childhood bedroom. In lockdown. My surroundings had never felt so tight. Mapping out routes was still not boring though. And since I found myself living in Greece again after almost ten years away it became evident that this was the perfect time to plan a multi-day bikepacking tour through the Greek mountains: The Pindus Traverse.

After first experiencing New Zealand‘s South Island during a life-altering thru-hike in 2015, Mckenzie Barney returns with a same-but-different journey in mind. This time astride her Kona Sutra LTD, Mckenzie reconnects with the familiar terrain through a new medium all while stitching together classic stretches of mixed-surface bike touring routes to cover the 1500km from Picton to Bluff.

Fresh pulls of espresso waltz through a cold September morning, dancing alongside a particular brand of nervous excitement. It’s a certain hum I’ve come to understand as unique to the start of bikepacking trips and the suckers who choose such endeavors as their vacation. Strangers who will become good friends in a few short miles clear the frogs from their throats to answer early morning queries about their hometowns, bike set-ups, and handlebar tchotchkes over hot breakfast burritos and steamy lattes slung by Autobahn Coffee as we all wait for the start of the Salsa Cycles Ochoco Overlander.

It’s cold and blustery in Santa Fe these days so, much like Hailey, I’m riding more pavement than I’d normally like and have put riding the mountainous trails on the shelf for the moment. Winters are great for water levels in the west, especially ones like the winter we’re having this year. Not much gets me out of the house on windy days, and battling headwinds in a 20º “real feel” is not this desert rat’s cup of tea.

Yet, living in a tourist hub, I often get hit up to meet with travelers passing through town. Sometimes, they want to catch up over a cup of coffee, other times; they have a bike they want me to see. The other morning, I got a message from Brian, who was returning from the Baja Divide with a unique bike in tow…

Following up on their previous shop visit, Daniel and Karla take us back to Básica Studio in Mexico City. This time they delve deeper into a larger spectrum of Básica’s bikes, along with some updates on builder Eli Acosta.

Here I am again, writing about a World Championships experience. This one is just a touch more debaucherous than the last one I attended in early October. I swapped the UCI regulations for one rule to rule them all: if you win you must get a tattoo. Single Speed Cyclocross World Champs is the not-so-underground, fringe, party event that calls itself a World Champs and, in many ways, it is. But instead of (doing drugs) (marginal gains) that make you faster, you do things that make you slower like keg stands, whiskey shots, and hot dog hand-ups.

As a salute of solidarity to everyone who keeps getting out on the bike through winter, Hailey Moore shares three tales of off-season travails from riding through this most testing season.

When the opportunity to farm sit a friend’s land is presented, Carmen Aiken’s response was a quick affirmative, but the getting there would take a little longer. On a loaded up Omnium Cargo Bike, Carmen enjoys the scenic route through the Driftless while sharing local encounters and reflections from the road. 

Belén Castelló and Tristan Bogaard have made a life bikepacking around the world. On a trip to Italy last fall Belén’s brother, Horacio, decided to join the couple on a tour through the Dolomites. On the cusp of turning 40 and with little-to-no cycling experience, Horacio was looking for an experience that would shake him up, and wake him up from his normal routine. He found that while riding an e-bike for back-to-back days in the Dolomite Mountains. Read on for Belén’s recounting of the trip and why choosing e-bikes felt like the best choice for their ride.

We were one day into a three-day trip dubbed the Garibaldi Classic or “The Nch’kay House of Pleasure and Pain.” Pandemics aside, on the long weekend in September, it has become a tradition to embark on some sort of ill-advised multi-day trip involving mountain landscapes, good friends, small backpacks, and quite a bit more foot travel than would be advertised in a long-weekend bike trip brochure. The goal was to leave from our front doors, bikes loaded with everything we would need for a three-day, lightweight excursion in the mountains, curling a horseshoe around Garibaldi Lake within British Columbia’s Garibaldi Provincial Park.

With my camera bag loaded with several boxes of 120 film and a brick of Ilford HP5, I pulled out of the driveway bound for Hartford, CT; I paused, wondering how I arrived at this moment. All of the little moves and influences resulted in me lugging two cameras with a combined age of some 75 years to shoot the season’s most crucial cyclocross race. There is a “Butterfly Effect” moment in our lives that leads us to our current state, and somewhere amongst the mud, dust, and thousands of shutter actuation is mine.

Up at the crack of dawn, we start our ride through the bustling streets of Bangkok. As the sun struggles to break through the dense smog that engulfs the city, we wrestle and weave through the maddening metropolis. People flood the streets. Market stalls pop up around us, and woks roar as they fire up and perfume the air with an explosion of rich Thai aromas. For once we won’t stop. We’re on a mission, we tell ourselves as we ignore the pull of the pad thai, and arrive at our destination: Bicycle Boys Clubhouse (BBCH).

Tucked away on Charoen Krung – the first road ever built in Thailand – Bicycle Boys Clubhouse is a breath of fresh air. A bike and coffee shop specializing in fixed/track bikes, high-end components, and kick-ass food. Surrounded by an array of artisans, specialty coffee hideouts, and a lowkey vinyl record store, the space exudes a sense of style. But BBCH is more than just a trendy bike shop: it’s a statement and a community.

The peaks of Wyoming’s Gros Ventre Range might not be quite as photogenic as the towering, craggy summits of the nearby Tetons, but snaking through the Gros Ventres just west of the Continental Divide is something the Tetons lack – a substantial network of mostly-groomed winter trails. I didn’t know much about the trails, but looking at topo maps of the area, it looked impressively rugged terrain, much more so than other places where I’ve done longer rides on a fat bike. Last January, I was in the nearby Teton Valley, and looking for a change of scenery and trails, Kait Boyle and I decided to venture over to the Gros Ventres for a few days to see just what the winter riding was like.

Although I’ve struggled with a lifelong tendency to overcommit, I’m not a total megalomaniac. A few months ahead of this year’s Bespoked, I asked Josh to make the trip over from Arizona to London to cover the event while I (along with my business partner, another Josh, and an amazing team of volunteers) administered it. Running the show was already a massive feat, and I’d have done a disservice to both the show and the builders by trying to document it at the same time. Josh flew over and covered a huge number of bikes and builders with the diligence and dedication that they deserve (for a refresher, you can view those pieces here and here). It was cool to finally meet the guy on the other side of the emails, as we’d been working together for the better part of a year. During the show we were both focused on very separate tasks, but we made some time for a little road trip to visit the factory where Brooks England manufactures leather saddles, which is just outside of Birmingham in the little industrial town of Smethwick.

Every year, we get offers from companies, both large and small to review one of their upcoming bike models. We take on what we can and lean on our contributors for the ones we can’t fit into our own schedules. We’re still just three people running this site over here! At the end of the calender year, we dig through our analytics, social media channels, and comments to determine which bikes did the best and compile a list. This year’s ran the gamut from full suspension mountain bikes to, cargo, all-rounder and gravel racing machines. There’s something for everyone in this one, so read on for The Radavist’s Top Ten Bike Reviews of 2022!